#it's definitely worth it to just stop and address the real problem. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

self-loving-vampire · 1 year

Note

In my own argument against AI art I acknowledged that it making art more accessible was a good thing. I just don't think it's worth the cost of rendering artists worthless at their expense. Because it is at their expense. AI art needs a learnset that is neither consensual nor compensated. Even if it's considered fair use and totally not for profit, it can't exist without the work of artists it's based on. It is inherently harmful in this regard.

I don't need to make backwards thinking arguments or excuses for disliking AI art. I don't like it because it threatens the last shred of monetary value artists can cling to, and none of the arguments for it seem to have an answer to this problem; they just (rightly) point out how any proposed 'solution' does more harm than good. But so does AI art, if artists themselves have any value.

Any pro-AI art argument that doesn't take the impact on the artists that made it possible into account basically sounds like 'art isn't worth compensating, and therefore it's okay to devalue artists'.

Regardless of what might be gained from devaluing artists (more accessibility to art, protection from IP law, both of which are good things), it cannot be gained without devaluing artists. I take it most artists aren't okay with this. I'm certainly not, and I'm not making any money from my art in the first place.

The part that's odd in terms of people flipping moral stances over this can probably be chalked up to rationalization. People who are pro-artist enough to be anti-AI art seem to be determined to justify that AI art is inherently wrong in a way that is easier to swallow than the choice between artists and fan works/disabled people/etc.

I made the argument that it's a false dichotomy, but because it's a lose-lose situation, rather than the zero-sum game it's made out to be. People seem determined to believe that their side of the argument must be the correct one, and therefore it must also be the 'morally correct' side. Because of course they would only support the obviously morally correct argument, rather than admit the concept of having a personal stake exists. I'll admit it's odd it's happening with this discourse in particular, but people rationalize things rather than examining their thought process all the time etc.

I don't consider my stance against it 'morally correct' (at least not in the same moral absolutist sense I just referred to; I'm still following my personal values here); I'm personally against AI art because it can't do good without inherently causing harm, simple as that. I'd rather stop the train before it hits than be forced into the trolley problem when the real issues are more systemic than most people involved in this discourse are willing to address. Universal basic income would make it so artists could be artists without worrying about AI art threatening their livelihood. But that would mean admitting that people deserve to live whether or not they're considered productive, and the powers that be don't like that idea. 'People shouldn't have to be productive to survive' is a good argument; 'Artists should just get a day job' isn't. (You've acknowledged the potential economic impact at least and even if we ultimately disagree I appreciate that.)

I'm opposed to IP law too, btw. I think preservation of content is as important as it is overlooked, and the proponents of IP law are the same reason AI-art poses a threat to artists in the first place. But since I do have a personal stake in the argument, the pro-AI art stance doesn't feel like the lesser of two evils, it feels like no matter what happens I lose, and I'm powerless to stop it.

The economic argument is definitely one of the better ones, though I also have a few issues with that one as well. I 100% agree that the ultimate solution that we should be working towards is UBI, though.

Even if the situation for artists did not change in the least, there are already a lot of other poor people working multiple minimum wage jobs who don't really have the opportunity to create as they wish or learn new skills because they are already in the situation that artists could potentially find themselves in.

Those people also need help, and I think the focus on trying to do something about AI while treating UBI as an impossibility is both mistaken and kind of overly narrow. There's already a large underclass of poor people doing exactly what artists are afraid they'll have to do if AI takes their job. It's already a problem worth solving.

(Personal tangent but I know that master, for example, has tons of creative ideas and has even taught himself various skills to pursue them but is still kind of held back from fully devoting himself to them because of work. UBI would help even people who are not currently artists to create things.)

Anyway, on to some issues I have noticed.

For one, I feel like Luddism as a whole is kind of a doomed proposition. It is not really realistically possible to undo useful technological advances without offering an even better alternative. Even the original Luddites completely failed in stopping the advancement of textile technology that would harm their own economic interests as skilled craftspeople.

It seems like a "you can't un-ring a bell" type of situation where I can't really see a way for it to be undone as long as it remains profitable, and efforts to get copyright giants like Disney involved are likely to just result in either everyone getting screwed over or those companies gaining a monopoly on the technology.

But aside from that, I feel like a lot of people are treating this instance of automation and industrialization potentially threatening a group's income differently from all the previous automation efforts that they already pretty much accepted without complaint.

Think, for example, of skilled toymakers, clothiers, furniture makers, and so on. If you have read about the history of pre-industrial clothesmaking as I have, you might be aware of just how a ridiculous amount of time was spent on this before modern technology changed the game.

The industrialization of textiles changed the economic angle of this, obviously. If clothing becomes cheap and accessible because a factory can make it much more efficiently then you can't make nearly as much of a profit by selling whatever surplus certain circumstances may afford your household.

People did lose work (and by extension money) over this, and reacted by destroying industrial machinery.

And yet this same accessibility and plenty had largely positive effects on the net. It's a good thing that half the household doesn't have to spend every waking moment making clothing, and the free time gained from this enabled the pursuit of other things.

Enabling greater access to artistic creations will not have a remotely comparable effect on free time, but it does have its own economic benefits that are easy to overlook if one looks only at artists in isolation and not other kinds of creators.

Consider, for example, an independent game developer with no budget working for their bedroom (not purely a hypothetical even in this day and age, Jeff Vogel is still going). They are basically treading water because their projects are kind of niche and don't look nearly as appealing as other games visually, since their budget won't let them spend that much on that side of things.

AI art enabling such developers to create high-quality art for their projects at an affordable price means that developers like that can keep going more easily and so create things that would otherwise not exist.

The technology would be putting some people out of work while at the same time allowing other people to create beyond the possibilities that previously existed.

This means that the calculation of the costs and benefits is already upon us, and when you factor in the fact that a lot of the more serious propositions for actually doing anything about AI art in practice involve IP expansions then I am not convinced that the anti-AI position is the one that leads to the best world-state.

I sympathize with the difficulty this creates for the people put in that position, though. I think unless an asteroid hits the earth or something then practically everyone will end up in the same situation in the long run as more and more jobs become automated.

The really tragic part is that this would just be an unambiguously good thing if not for the perverse way in which people are expected to "earn" their continued existence through paid labor.

A world with less scarcity and in which no one needs to work would be downright utopian if the increased productivity was shared equally, but it would also be kind of dangerous if all the gains were monopolized by a small elite and everyone outside of it was just rendered irrelevant and left to die.

It really does not have to be like that, and I am optimistic that with the right focus it may be possible to gather support for stronger social assistance as automation advances and more jobs disappear. After all, an actual majority of the world may find itself in that situation within the next century.

I guess the better good news I think I can give you in the short term is that it's probably going to be a while longer before AI really reaches the point where a lot of people prefer it over human artists for at least some purposes, and there's other situations where the people benefitting from AI art would not have hired an artist to begin with so there's no actual income loss there (for example, the median D&D player probably won't be paying someone big bucks to draw their OCs, especially when they can use stuff like picrew and video game character creators instead).

#long post

8 notes · View notes

celiaelise · 10 months

Text

Still thinking about how I should maybe see a new* therapist...

*(or additional??? The thought of leaving my current therapist is kind of terrifying so I've not been focusing on that aspect)

I think I'd want someone who has experience working with adhd, and maybe also autism, specifically, and who already has a framework to understand all my executive dysfunction, and has no expectation that I will ever, be, like, "normal".

My current therapist definitely doesn't mean to do this, she never shames me and is very supportive, but I sometimes feel like she assumes I have things in common with her that I don't think I ever will. I think this is maybe because I am very well-spoken and can seem socially adept. Like idk a better way to phrase this, but she is just very "normie".

It'd be ideal if they were someone who I could be open with about how much disdain I have for capitalism and the ways it affects me and my loved ones. And how, like, I don't have any respect for the "rules" of capitalism. And think it is morally wrong.

Again, my current therapist would probably be respectful enough if I voiced these things, but I just don't think she would actually understand. I know she has a pretty extensive history of working with cops and military, and she seems to have respect for these people. Then again, maybe talking like a ~radical~ would be just what I need to finally get her to see me as "other" from her in a way that I feel like we're currently missing.

Oh, god. Is my therapist projecting onto me?? lol. I don't think she really is, I think empathy is just a natural part of her practice and who she is, (something i think we do have in common) but I do think she views me more as a friend than is helpful. Or, actually, probably more like one of her several daughters or granddaughters.

idk. I should probably try to talk to her about some of this. That is literally her job, after all. I just like she's been very dismissive about some of my issues lately? In, like, a "toxic positivity" kind of way. Like, she'll be like, "oh, those feelings make sense for someone in your situation", instead of helping me figure out how to stop those feelings from ruining my life. (possible slight exaggeration) And she'll focus on small solutions to surface-level problems instead of addressing the root of the issue.

And I have a really hard time recognizing and addressing when these things are happening in real time! My "social interaction" brain is on!! Plus, now that I have known her for many years and am emotionally invested in our relationship and her opinion of me, my "don't let this person get disappointed or upset by anything you say" instincts are active. I don't even think she would be, but it's a hard filter for me to turn off! But it'd be easier for me to be candid with someone new, I think, in that respect.

idk I have a lot of her respect and affection right now, which is, like, kind of how I think I measure my self-worth, (from everyone, not just her) but I feel like in this specific instance it might be getting in the way of things.

#my life #my feelings #therapy #mental healthcare #by elise #i still don't have a plan but i think this was helpful to write

4 notes · View notes

hopesandmountains · 7 months

Text

You know I’ve pretty much am realizing that all my previous relationships (if you can even call them that) have just been limerent attachments to unavailable people (either emotionally unavailable or just like actually unavailable, or both really), and that it really hasn’t been healthy for me.

I think on some level I always knew that I was pretty much emotionally unavailable and had a bunch of attachment issues, so I just kind of avoided any kind of normal relationship, but the idea of there being someone (especially at the time when I was feeling overwhelmed) lead me to getting more attached to the idea of a person than the actual person themselves.

And I guess this wasn’t really the worst problem back when I had a healthy social circle, yeah it still held me back from having healthy relationships but I wasn’t exactly going to solve my attachment issues overnight, and I didn’t meet anybody safe enough and someone I was sure enough about to take that risk (attaching too quickly too early to the wrong person can really mess you up in the long run)

But even limerent attachments that are more imaginary than real can mess you up. I pretty much wasted two years of my life on someone I didn’t even have a relationship with and spent a majority of my time focused more on their issues than my own (which were piling up).

At first they were more of an excuse to not see anybody else, and also something to look forward to at a time when I was able to sort my life out better. Except my life wasn’t as easy to sort out as I thought, and they were a real person who was interested back not just some imaginary being.

And as time went on I didn’t realize but I was getting more and more attached to the idea of being together, and against my better judgement, let myself get attached to the actual person (who I barely knew in reality and was widely different from the idea I had gotten attached to).

And of course any attempts to make things work ended up in disaster (we were both emotionally unavailable), but at that point I was attached and losing that attachment at such a point in my life was going to be difficult, and I think what I was really worried about was that I would just transfer that attachment to someone else.

And at this point it would just sound more healthy to see someone else (and to an extent it probably would’ve been), but putting on that level of emotional attachment to someone else would’ve been extremely risky (I think anybody would be afraid of forming an intense bond with someone who is essentially a stranger), and keeping that attachment with someone unavailable was safe because they couldn’t hurt me on a deep emotional level if we never got to that phase of being in a deep emotional level with each other.

The real problem being is that this attachment (really to whoever) was fulfilling an unmet need and I really didn’t how to just let go of that attachment.

But the trade off was that I was still investing a bunch of time and energy into something that was never going to pay off, and letting go of that attachment was just an awful experience once I had finally convinced myself it was the right thing to do.

And it also stopped the both of us from going out and finding someone we could have a true connection with.

So yeah definitely wasn’t healthy, but I’m in a better place now and now am better realizing my needs so I can address them and heal in a more healthy way. Really limerence can be a sort of escape from the reality of things, and if you have a difficult time loving and accepting yourself, using an imaginary idea as a crutch can help out but will never fix the problem.

You have to learn to heal the attachment wounds, and learn to truly have love for yourself. And while that takes time, it is possible. And you will have to believe that it is possible because it will also take effort. But it’s worth it.

#limerance

0 notes

escape-rock-bottom · 1 year

Text

Overthinking? Well, I'm pretty sure I'm not overthinking. Am I?

Ah yes, overthinking. It’s a trap many of us have found ourselves in. It’s one of the things I seem to do constantly to the point I just want to scream at my brain to shut it because of the amount of stress it’s causing me. So, I’m going to be a bit ironic here and analyze it.

While I do agree that stepping back to think about a problem and its many nuances is a wonderful ability (that I wish more people would have, personally), there is a threshold that you cross and you’ll enter overthinking territory.

Overthinking is pretty much a state of thinking in which you feel the need to look into every detail of something, or possible solutions and problems to a situation. It is usually linked to negative thought patterns, but overthinking can occur over mundane or positive things. However, there’s always a sense of anxiety and intense focus regardless of the subject of your thoughts.

Something interesting I noticed is that overthinking seems to occur most in people with mental illnesses that cause mood instability or anxiety. It also seems to occur in people who have no mental illness symptoms but had an upbringing with an overprotective, cautious parent.

It makes sense, considering overthinking is a defense mechanism. The mind protects itself from making a bad decision by stopping to analyze, but our brains sometimes get a bit too silly and go overboard, leading to the analysis process extending past what would be normal.

The frustrating thing about overthinking is it’s habitual. Yup, if you continuously overthink, your brain will resort to doing so whenever a problem arises. It leads to indecisiveness and frustration, and causes issues within relationships.

This is one of those habits that can sadly ruin your mental state. Not only will you lose trust in your judgements, you will miss opportunities, lose motivation and focus, and slow us down. Overthinking about whether or not you’re a good artist and if it’s worth it to continue learning because you’re not too sure you have what it takes won’t get you to where you set out to be.

You will constantly limit your actual capacity if you worry about every step and detail as you learn and grow. This is where it gets a little backwards: In order to grow you need to understand where you’re failing and how to improve, which requires you to look at the details and steps right? Of course. The difference is how you look at them and how quickly you come to the conclusion.

Are you getting anxious about “missing something” or feeling inferior because you aren’t getting it? Are you getting frustrated because there’s something not going right and going over a thousand possibilities for why it’s not? Are you feeling the urge to quit because no matter how you look at the situation you’re never going to be good enough? That’s overthinking.

A general analysis of faults and where you need to grow is a quick process. It’s from a place of neutrality and genuine curiosity, not one of insecurity and worry. The difference between me researching all the details of how to pull off an art project in a medium I’ve never explored and the person who is researching the details of a project because they think they’re missing something that’ll give them a key to an awesome outcome they’re not getting is the emotions and intent behind it.

Understanding what’s overthinking and what’s not is important if you want to actually address the issue. Once again, it comes down to intent and emotion. If you feel anxious or frustrated about the thoughts, it’s probably overthinking. If you’ve been cycling through the same thoughts to the point you’re missing real life things and losing sleep, you’re definitely overthinking.

Let me be honest here, this is definitely something I need to work on. I’m getting better at seeing the whirlpool before I swim into it, but sometimes I lose sight of my thoughts and only realize it after I reach the point of no escape. However, I’ll give you this neat little tip for what I do when I either catch wind early or find myself spiraling:

Interrupt it. Tell the thought to screw off and move on.

It’s literally that simple. It’s a hard thing to do, but it’s that straightforward. There’s no metaphor, no hidden message, no strings attached. You need to intervene somehow and get your mind off of whatever the hell is driving you down the overthinking road.

Here’s a list of effective interrupters. Try them out and see which fit, some work better in certain states than others and some won’t do a dang thing, but it’s up to you and a lot of trial and error to find the useful ones:

Physically leave the area you are overthinking in. Take a breather and be mindful of your new surroundings and ignore any thoughts

Have a conversation with someone about something unrelated to your thoughts

Feed yer brain! Pick up a book, do some research for school, learn something new and interesting about something you’re passionate about that’s unrelated to your current negative thoughts

Mindless distraction until you have calmed down. Watch a show, browse the internet, work on a project, do something until your brain figures out you don’t care about its negativity and buggers off

Confront the thoughts. Directly tell them they aren’t worth your energy and stop “replying”. Imagine it like shutting out someone shouting at you.

Set a timer for “worry time” for 3 minutes. You have exactly 3 minutes now to think through your problem and engage with the thoughts and feel the feelings, and once the timer buzzes you are done and moving forward

Jump straight into the thing you are overthinking about. This one’s effective specifically when you’re overthinking tasks, projects, activities, and social situations that have little true negative effect. This requires you to slam the brakes on thinking and dive in to doing

Turn the negatives into positives. Instead of saying “if I try this thing I’m going to fail hard” say “I want to try, and I will learn something by doing so.” Basically, rewrite the story to where you’re the hero, not the victim. Be the guy who drew that thing to learn to draw, not the guy who can’t do art to save their life.

Personally, I use some combination of these things (some more than others) and I have learned which to do when and which are most effective. It also helps to understand what things you tend to overthink about and what situations you need to be prepared for.

Sadly, I can’t tell you how to figure that one out because I am not you nor am I not omniscient enough to understand your inner workings, but I can guarantee with enough consistent practice and effort you can crush those dumb pathetic negative thoughts into dust.

#overthinking #mental health #cognitive behavioral therapy #negative thoughts

0 notes

toburnup · 2 years

Note

Bitch!!! (even more affectionate than before) I'm glad that my disorganized ramblings made you happy today. It's so funny, I also have ADHD and was poor while growing up. I was thinking long and hard *giggles* about the whole "how would it work?" with the class difference issues between Eddie and Steve, and to be honest, I think it totally would because Steve is at heart a good person. Even when he was an asshole at school he wasn't really an active bully, his problem was more of the "doing nothing to stop his bully friends", which is still pretty bad, but I think because of his upbringing he was his whole life concerned about how he was perceived. I think during the Ahoy! phase he came very close to reality like you said, he voiced a massive issue like it was not a big deal to someone he (at this point) considered inferior for being in a band. He said to Robin that his daddy was punishing him by forcing him to work (which is such a rich boy thing to say), but he also stated that he has no future, and he completely believes that, which is heartbreaking. He just doesn't know that in the 80's you could be almost anything without a degree, but all of the things he could be good at, are surely discarded as "not real careers" or not important work by his father. He could be a good counselor for troubled kids and so many other things... But getting back to the rich boy issue, I have some good friends that came from wealth, and when they are good at heart, the main issue is that they literally just don't know how other people live. One time a friend asked me if I liked a particular dress that much, and I said "Why do you think I like it so much?" he answered "you always wear the same thing" so I told him "I don't have money to buy more clothes" and he was stunned, like, the thought of someone not having money for clothes never graced his brain, and he immediately apologized. It is annoying to have to explain to grown-ass people the poor's way of life, but when they are good, just ignorant, it's worth it sometimes. Steve is willing to rectify his wrongdoings, always, which is a hard-to-find quality, he apologized to Dustin when he went too far with the teeth joke, he learned a special handshake with him (not related but sweet). He was going to apologize to Jonathan and bought him a new camera... (1/2)

omg. we're both rambling and i love it. i'm going to write out an answer for this one and then address ur second (THOUGHT PROVOKING) message after i take a nap.

i had such a similar thing with a coworker who asked me why i was always rotating the same outfits, and it's like ????? you think i just do this for fun? or one time, a friend said it was gross to rewear an item of clothing before washing it. i would literally run out of clothes so fast if i did that!! and laundromats are the fucking worst. anyway.

all of the things he could be good at, are surely discarded as "not real careers" or not important work by his father.

this makes sense, and there's also the gendered nature of it all - the things steve would probably be good at were probably jobs that were thought of to be for women (i mean this as a compliment to steve).

i do consider steve to have been an active bully in school, his interaction with jonathan is pretty much just that (keep in mind here that i grew up in a small, super white town and was bullied for being gay and ~of colour~ so i have a lot of fun baggage). his friends may have egged him on but ultimately he (the writers) went there. i think that scene would look very different if the writers knew they'd be keeping steve around. i write steve as a reformed bully (good at heart! dickhead in school), cause he was pretty much the ringleader there, but i know others write him differently and i enjoy reading other takes on his character.

with using a narrative lens of steve being bi, it definitely changes perspective because it comes off as steve projecting onto jonathan instead (which is the way i went in the 2nd chapter of we're bending and we're breaking) and makes their whole relationship more nuanced. which, ultimately, is a more interesting way to engage with the show (urgh sorry for meta talk).

cans open, worms... everywhere.

#bitch (affectionate) 💙#u have ur own tag now #i'd call this character crit so i won't tag with his name but i do love steve i just have COMPLEX feelings about him too #viospeaks

0 notes

dnfrecs · 2 years

Text

FAKE DATING AU RECS

The Name Of The Game [ kivy, 4/10, 17k+ ]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34575964/chapters/86067610

What do you do when you’re the school president, and you get half a dozen confessions a day that you really don’t want?

Even better, what do you do when your acquaintance/friend/slight-pain-in-your-ass is treated like a complete outcast by the entire student body, and you know that he doesn’t deserve it?

That’s right! You fake-date each other!

...Wait.

In which School President Dream meets Local Menace George, discovers he isn’t what everyone says he is, laments over his troubles, and gets hit with the w̶o̶r̶s̶t̶ best idea of the 21st century: pretending to date.

It’s a way to deter all of Dream’s suitors so he can have peace of mind; it’s a way to show everyone that George isn’t as big and bad as they think; it’s the perfect solution to their problems.

And between the two of them, the probability of any real feelings developing is almost zero.

Almost.

; i just recently started reading this one and oh my god, it’s so amazing. george in this fic <33 george with messy hair my beloved. it’s already made it to my favourites list and it’s not complete. definitely worth a read ^_^

so far in running [ myicedcoffee, 8/8, 35k+ ]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28852386/chapters/70773375

"I bet you a month’s worth of compsci homework and a muffin that you can’t make it through all two weeks of winter break without breaking and telling your mum the truth.'

That's probably the stupidest thing Dream had ever heard come out of George’s mouth, and that was saying a lot, but saying no to George had proven to be an unnecessarily hard thing to do.

So, of course, Dream finds himself looking George dead in the face yet again, holding his hand out to shake on it.

'Deal,' he grumbles, but he can feel the grin tugging on his face, and he knows George can see it too.

or,

Chocolate chip muffins, a bet, and a fake relationship. What could go wrong?

; this one made me want to scream into my pillow a multitude of times. the writing is absolutely exquisite and i overall want to recommend this 20 times

a brief inquiry into (real) relationships [ quartzfia, 12/12, 43k+ ]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31978081/chapters/79202398

Will you be bringing a plus one? List name if applicable.

Smaller font was below the question, although, Dream didn’t have the mental capacity after just waking up to read the fine print.

Without another thought, he filled in “George Davidson” in black ink

Or, Dream's misreads an invite to a wedding, and now has to fake a relationship with the boy he's fallen head over heels for.

; the absolute emotion i felt reading this was too immense to process. the author is incredibly talented and the fic is so <333

Hold My Hand A Little Longer [ galacticlyss, 1/1, 7k+ ]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29623380

The bench - his bench - was occupied. All Dream could see of the young man was the top of his head, which was covered by a black beanie, tufts of dark brown hair sticking out from the front of the knit hat. His face was hidden in his hands, and his knees were tucked against his chest. Dream should have been able to pick up on the blatant cues: This person is sad. This person is using the sulking bench to sulk. But when all Dream wanted was to sit down and try and figure out a way to address his predicament, social cues didn’t matter. “Hey.” He said, his voice monotonous. “You’re-” Dream’s sentence stopped abruptly when the man looked up at him, his face appearing out from behind his hands. His eyes were red and watery, his high and defined cheekbones dotted a blotchy pink from what appeared to be dried tear tracks. “You’re crying.”

aka the one where socially awkward, shy dream wraps himself up in a lie about having a boyfriend and is now expected to go on a double date with the aforementioned (nonexistent) boyfriend. he's at a loss for what to do until he sees someone sit on his special bench at the movie theater. now if dream can play his cards right, he'll have a (fake) date

; can you tell fake dating au’s are my weakness yet,, i bet you can. this was just so <333 hdhsnejs

#dnf fic recs #dnf recs #dnf ao3 #dreamnotfound fanfic #17k+#35k #43k+#7k+#fake relationship #fake dating au #light angst #first kiss #slow burn #pining #fluff

103 notes · View notes

witchlyboo · 3 years

Text

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Taglist:

@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @navs-bhat @coxxxxxpi @leviosatothestars

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

#ben hardy imagine #michael b jordan fc #tom holland x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #pedro pascal #logan lerman fc #definitely maybe #fluff #angst #timothee chalamet #Tom Holland #Ben Hardy

111 notes · View notes

chiliiscereal · 3 years

Text

Well my standards have really lowered when I comes to writing fanfiction a XD

First I didn’t want to write any at all, then I didn’t want to write for any cartoons, then I didn’t want to write for cartoon turtles... and here i am.

Here I am starting a x reader fanfiction... with the 2014/2016 version of Raph

Still a bit uncomfortable with this but I had an idea so here we go! If I like it then I’ll keep going :p

Lol what am I doing with my life XD

Too tall

Raph x tall! Fem! Reader

Summary: yes this is me self projecting. Reader is 6 foot 4 inches tall and literally every boy she meets is too insecure to date her when she’s that tall. After a while of being treated like she unbreakable and a giant she gets tired of it. Luckily there’s someone else out there who understands how she feels.

———-

You tapped the cafe table impatiently, trying not to watch your friend and her boyfriend across from you. You attempted to look at the door instead. Maybe if you stared at it long enough then your date would show up.

“It’s okay! I’m sure he’ll show up.” She tried to console you as her boyfriend held her tiny little hand.

Perfect.

Small.

You looked at your own clenched hands and wished that yours could fit so perfectly in someone else’s hands. But, sadly, big hands come with height.

No boy your age ever came close to you.

It’s not that you minded.

It’s that they did.

You didn’t care that practically every boy you met barely went up to your shoulder. You wanted companionship. You didn’t need them to be a hulking giant. You needed someone who loved you.

This wasn’t Tall Girl for goodness sake.

You weren’t waiting around for some tall man to show up.

Unfortunately no guy was willing to step up to the plate.

Why might you ask?

Insecurity of course.

The last three guys that turned you down all said they weren’t comfortable with being shorter than their girlfriend. Others said they weren’t looking for a girlfriend.

Funnily enough they all ended up with girlfriends maybe a week later.

The other girls were incredibly tiny. They barely even made it to the boys shoulders. If that.

But you thought maybe this boy would be different.

He seemed like he was.

He seemed interested at least.

He SEEMED like he was excited when you asked him on a double date with your best friend and her boyfriend.

But an hour passed already and he wasn’t there.

You sat up with a bit of a huff. “It’s fine. Let’s just... let’s just enjoy dinner.”

Your friend frowned at you but decided to let it drop. She knew you hated whenever anything like this was addressed so she bit her tongue and changed the subject.

You couldn’t enjoy dinner or pay attention to anything brought up.

Oh you tried.

You gave it the old college try.

But you found your mind wandering back to the lost date way to often.

After another thirty minutes you stood up. “You know what? I’m kind of tired and I still have some homework to finish up. You two enjoy your date!” You grabbed your bag and walked out before your friend could even call you back.

You just needed some time to yourself.

Time to think.

You walked down the sidewalk slowly, half heartedly wishing that the boy would call you and give an amazing reason as to why he was two hours late.

You stopped yourself from reaching for your phone to check for a text.

No it was his loss.

Not yours.

Surely there was someone out there for you... waiting for you to come along.

Someone that wouldn’t care if you were a little taller than them.

You huffed and zipped your bag shut. Whoever they were, they definitely weren’t that boy.

“Hey girl, who you all dressed up for?” Came a voice from the alley you were about to pass.

“No time to talk.” You answered quickly and continued walking.

You weren’t about to give them the time of day. There was a tub of ice cream and a sappy romance movie waiting for you back at your apartment.

“Come on, a girl like you with legs like that? Surely you’re dressed up for somebody.” The man stepped out of the alleyway and leaned against the brick wall. “I’m thinkin’ maybe it’s me.”

Oh you wanted to turn him around and hit him with your bag.

But it wasn’t worth the risk.

“Hell no.” You stated curtly and walked by him briskly.

He snatched your wrist, effectively making your skin crawl. “Look at me when I’m talking to ya.”

He pulled you into the alley before you could stop him.

“Maybe you didn’t hear me.” You growled and tried to rip yourself away. “HELL. NO.”

“Come on, baby! Give me a chance-!” He attempted you sweet talk before he was interrupted.

You caught his hand before he could grab you anywhere inappropriate. “I have had a REALLY terrible day. I am a MINOR and if you don’t get lost RIGHT NOW then you’re gonna have some serious problems.”

He was close enough that you could smell the bitter alcohol on his breath.

He was probably a head shorter than you and had no idea what he was getting into.

“I don’t care if you’re a minor-.” He started.

Your fist smashing into his nose stopped his words.

“Like I said!” You growled as you shook the pain out of your knuckles, “I have had a really really REALLY bad day. And YOU are some little gnat just buzzing in my FACE!”

He gripped his nose with a cry, blood dripping down it like a waterfall. “YOU BROKE MY NOSE!”

“YOU PULLED ME INTO AN ALLEY AND TRIED TO TOUCH ME!” You shouted back, hitting him with your purse before he could charge at you. “YOU MADE THIS CHOICE AFTER I WARNED YOU!”

It felt good to take your rage out on somebody. And it was justified to! It wasn’t like you were just beating this man. He wasn’t letting you leave! He kept grabbing you before you could go.

————-

Turtles pov

They crouched above the alleyway, watching the man pull you into the alleyway.

“We gotta get involved man.” The red masked one whispered. “This doesn’t look to good.”

“I told you, we only get involved if it gets really bad.” The blue one responded with an eye roll. “We can’t risk being seen!”

“It already looks really bad!”

“If she gets anymore hurt then we jump in!”

The orange masked turtle jumped into the conversation. “I don’t know, I think my money’s on the girl.”

“Mikey shut up!” The purple masked brother whispered. “This is serious!”

“So am I! Look at her! She isn’t even scared!”

“I think she at least looks a little scared.”

“Probably cause she’s trying to keep herself from beating the shit out of him!”

Raph rolled his eyes and shoved his younger brother. “It’s our job to do the protectin’ round here. Shut up and- HOLY SHIT!”

The all gasped as you reeled your hand back and knocked your fist into the creeps nose.

“Damn that looked like it hurt.” Leo observed. “Maybe she doesn’t need our help.”

“I say we stay here in case it goes south.” Raph argued, waiting for Leo to argue with him.

“Fine, but we leave when it looks like she’s safe.” Leo nodded and looked back to the fight.

Raph didn’t have time to feel proud that he’d been listened to. Mikey was inching closer to watch. “What the hell are ya doin’?” He reached forward to pull him back. “She’s gonna see ya!”

Mikey leaned over the edge anyway. “Look at her go! I told you he didn’t stand a chance!”

“Who knew using a purse was so effective?” Leo nodded. “Think she’s got it?”

“Looks like it to me!” Mikey laughed and watched with glee. “This is real entertainment.”

“Mikey you’re too close to the edge!” Raph tried to grab him but was shoved away. “You’re gonna fall-!”

————

With that you shoved the man into the wall. “Are you FINALLY done? Have you FINALLY learned your lesson?”

He spit out the blood from his mouth and nodded. “Fine! Please just leave me alone!”

“Good choice!” You shoved him away from you. “Go before I change my mind!”

He was gone before you could even blink.

“That’s right! Get out of here!” You shouted to him as he scurried away.

You lifted your chin triumphantly.

Maybe you hadn’t gotten that date but you sure did beat the crap out of a creep.

You dusted your hands off and snatched your purse off the ground.

“If I catch you harassing anyone else you’ll get it twice as bad!”

No answer of course.

He was long gone.

Still, it felt good to shout.

You could finally go home.

You turned back to the edge of the alleyway with a sigh of relief.

You took one step forward.

Then, the least expected thing happened.

“OH SHIT!”

Next thing you knew you were on the ground after something very large crashed into you.

“What the hell!” You sat up and rubbed your head. “Who just sits on a roof above an alleyway?!”

You grabbed your purse quickly and stood up, ready for another fight.

It wasn’t another creep.

And from the looks of it... it wasn’t even human.

Well, THEY weren’t even human.

You didn’t know what they were.

Green...

Huge...

And shells...

The finally looked at you.

Why were they wearing masks?

What even were they?

Why were they there!?

The one in orange immediately scurried behind the one in red. “Oh shit oh shit oh shit!”

The one in red looked at you and then looked at the guy behind him. “You dragged me into this! You fix it!”

He pulled him forward.

Honestly you had no idea what to think.

There were two GIANT turtles right in front of you! And they were talking!

You gripped your purse a little tighter, waiting to see what they would do.

The one directly in front of you tried to speak only to look back at the red masked one and then back up at where they had fallen.

You looked from him to where he was looking quickly. “Are there more of you?”

He gulped quickly and attempted to hide behind the bigger turtle. “Uh... yeah?”

You took a small step to the exit. “Are you... are you gonna try to take my purse or something?”

The red one glared at you. “No! We’re just.. just here to protect the city. We ain’t monsters!”

You noticed him getting defensive immediately and nodded. “...okay then. Well, if you’re not going to rob me then I’m going to pretend I saw nothing and go on my way.”

The red one frowned.

You were acting waaaaaaay too casual.

Surely there had to be some other motive.

“Hold on a minute... you ain’t goin’ anywhere yet.”

You glared at him and held out your purse. “Are you gonna stop me?”

Mikey took a step back and Raph rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think a purse is gonna do much against someone like me.” He stated.

“I don’t even know who you are.” You stepped back again and tightened your grip. “I didn’t even know people like you existed until now.”

You looked them up and down, taking them all in.

This couldn’t be real.

It couldn’t be.

“You say anything bout this and you’re dead, got it?” He pointed around you as if aggression could make you quiet.

“Can you at least let me go home and finish my ice cream before you decide to kill me?” You backed up again.

You were so close to running away.

So close to escape.

Before you could back up any further, two more creatures dropped from the sky behind you.

You jumped and scrambled away, nearly running into the red masked turtle.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the way my brother phrased everything.” The new turtle glared at his companion. “What he meant to say is that we protect the city. We were watching that man just in case he tried anything and these two,” he glared at the first two again, “fell off the roof.”

The one next to him pushed up his glasses. “I’m surprised you haven’t passed out from fear yet. The first person we met did just that!”

Your back hit the wall and you had no where else to go. “I’m not too sure if I won’t do that.” You glanced between the four of them. “What even are you guys?”

“Turtles!” The orange one spoke up before the red one could shush him.

“Mutants as well.” The purple one joined.

“And ninjas.”

“And teenagers.”

You couldn’t help but snort. “Mutant turtle teen ninjas? I think you need to rebrand that.”

Maybe you were insane.

Here you were cracking jokes with large turtles at dinner time.

But so far they were harmless, despite their stature. According to the blue one they protect New York.

“Ya got a problem with it?” The red one grew even more tense.

You shook your head quickly. “No. Just... surprised.”

“And scared?” He added. “Scared of monsters like us?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I thought you just said you weren’t monsters.”

That seemed to stop him.

So you continued with a deep breath. “You’re all just... really huge. I thought I was tall but standing next to you...” you swallowed and tried not to let your nerves get to you. You turned to the blue one since he seemed to be the leader. “...can I go now? I won’t tell anyone you exist or... whatever it is you want.”

The blue one was skeptical but the purple one butted in.

“Do you have a way home? Like a friend you can call?”

You opened your purse. “Yeah I should be able to call an Uber with my...” you pulled out the broken device. “...my phone.”

Well crap.

You stuffed it back in quickly. “It’s okay I’ll just walk-!”

“I can fix it.” He offered. “Besides it’ll be an extra security measure for us if we have your contact information.” He gestured loosely to the hand you’d punched the creep with. “We could also bandage up those cuts.”

You brought up your hand and inspected the blood with surprise.

Well... when were you gonna get another opportunity like this? It’s not everyday a girl gets invited into the homes of local mutants.

Besides you really didn’t want to walk home with your phone destroyed.

The red one looked at the purple one angrily. “You wanna being ‘er back??”

“Our job is to help people, Raph.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m with Donnie. It’s only fair since we broke her phone.” The blue one nodded.

“Well if it’s not too much trouble...”

—————

Next thing you know you were whisked away to none other than the sewers.

Well that kind of made sense.

No one would ever really want to go down there anyway.

The purple one, whose name you learned was Donnie, had your phone in his three fingers the moment you stepped foot in their home.

“I’ll do a little fixing up, maybe an upgrade, and Raph can take a look at your hands.” He muttered as he started to disappear into a lab like room.

Raph...

He was the red angry one wasn’t he.

The tallest and biggest out of them all.

He didn’t seem too happy about it either.

“Why me?” He protested. “What ‘bout Leo? Or-or Master Splinter? Heck, even Mikey!” He gestured to his orange masked brother as if to showcase how he’d be better at it.

You couldn’t help but silently agree with him.

Mikey seemed the most open on the way here. He’d talked your ear off the whole trip, asking questions about what it was like to be a human and bragging about all the people he’d saved. He’d even wanted you to play a video game with you when you got to their home. He’d been a bit overbearing but that was better than Mr. miffed muscle mountain.

“Hey you’ve broken the skin on your knuckles before. You’ve got experience in it. Just fix her hand and be done.” With that, Donnie was gone.

You shared an awkward moment of eye contact with Raph before he sighed.

“Well, I’m gonna go play my game.” Mikey dashed over to the tv. “Let me know when you two are done and we can play!” He grabbed Leo by the back of his shell and pulled him along.

You bit the inside of your cheek nervously.

It was just you two.

You and the giant turtle boy beside you.

“Aight well...” he cleared his throat. “I guess I’ll take you up to the work out room then?”

He stopped and you realized he was waiting for you to say something. You quickly tried to scrounge up a comprehensible sentence.

“Y-yeah, sounds good with me.” You followed after him quietly, holding your hand so the blood wouldn’t drip everywhere.

The room was smaller than you imagined but still... it was huge to you.

He began rummaging through a box on the table, fumbling with objects. “You can uh... you can sit down while I grab the-the stuff.” He told you quickly.

You didn’t know where to sit so you interpreted his words to mean that you should sit on the work out bench.

You watched patiently as he found the roll of gauze.

Clearly he was just as nervous as you.

You didn’t know why HE was nervous though. He was a giant turtle for goodness sake. He could snap you in half easily.

“Here lemme see that hand.” He shuffled over and reached out.

You gave your right one to him, trying to hold in your nervous shaking.

“Ain’t gonna bite ya.” He rolled his eyes.

“I know.” You commented, watching him start applying disinfectant. “Just never been in a situation like this before.”

He snorted and continued his work.

You couldn’t help but notice how small your hand looked compared to his. Ha. That was new. Usually it was you watching little pick me girls compare their hand size to their crushes. How strange it was for it to be you.

“And I thought I had big hands.” You couldn’t help but blurt out.

He kept his eyes on your hand, examining it a little more. “Ya call this big?”

“Yep.” You glanced around the room, taking in the ‘scenery’.

He snorted. “Damn tiny to me.” He pulled out the gauze and began wrapping your knuckles. “Look, I’m uh... I’m sorry ‘bout the way I handled earlier. My dumbnut brother got us exposed when ya clearly had the situation handled.”

You cringed, remembering that they’d seen you beating the creep. “Yeah I could have handled that better as well.”

He paused for a half second, as if considering his next words, and then continued. “Heard ya say you were havin’ a shit day as well.”

You weren’t exactly sure if you wanted this brought up in the middle of the weirdest experience ever but you were desperate for a smooth conversation. “Yeah, some jackass stood me up.”

He frowned and momentarily made confused eye contact with you. “Stood ya up?”

“You know, as in he said he was gonna go on a date with me and just didn’t show up.” You forced out a laugh. “But it’s fine I got ice cream at home.”

“Mmm.” He muttered. “Sounds like a douche bag.”

Well outta room! Part two will be up I had too much fun :)

#tmnt headcanons #tmnt raphael #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt #tmnt 2014 #raph x reader

185 notes · View notes

comradekatara · 3 years

Note

the gaang + how well they would do on the infinity train?

this is suuuper hard because there are so many factors to take into consideration. first is obviously the train itself. the train's function in a metanarrative sense is to serve as a vehicle for storytelling, dissecting & deconstructing the process of a narrative and how a character's arc is propelled by their circumstances. the train supposedly functions to improve its passengers, and yet we also know that The Train is a deeply flawed mechanism that can corrupt and further traumatize its passengers just as much as it can "fix" them. when the train invites you in with the single-minded goal of getting your number to zero, assuming you ever disembark, you're probably gonna be left with even more trauma than when you arrived, or at the very least, weirder trauma.

grace wanted to be seen, but instead of learning to value herself for her own intrinsic worth instead of relying on validation from those around her, she was enabled by that validation and literally started a cult. likewise, since jet is basically a less heinous version of simon, i see him taking a similar path to the apex (though he would of course name them the freedom fighters) trying to overthrow the tyrannical one-one and reinstate the True Conductor. he would think his path is righteous. he would think he is protecting those kids from evil. who knows what would happen once he learns the truth.

then there is the matter of what the train wants from you. the train arrives at a pivotal moment in one's life, when they are at an emotional crossroads and need a catalyst for growth. for example, jesse's problem was relatively small (because he is perfect) but hurting his brother caused him emotional turmoil nonetheless, so the train stepped in. this means that to answer this question properly, i would have to answer not only when the train arrives for them, but why, and seeing that every single atla character carries massive amounts of baggage (most of it flavors of trauma that infinity train has not addressed), this proves extremely difficult. i have to identify the most narratively satisfying moment in each character's lives to have the train arrive, and then i have to make assumptions about which cars would propel them which way (emotionally). you're asking me to outline nine different fanfictions.

only jet's character feels similar enough to any of the characters we've seen in infinity train for me to even have an inkling as to what path he would take. while sokka and tulip are quite similar as people (rational, scientific yet creative thinkers who over-rely on logic over feeling, are deeply loyal, and instinctually blame themselves for the problems caused by others), their character arcs themselves have little in common. both aang and hazel experience a tragic loss of pure, childhood innocence (which is why i cry over both of them every day), but in relatively dissimilar ways (at least appa gets to return to aang). min-gi and zuko are both pressured by their upbringings to conform to a standard that makes them miserable to please their parents, only to ultimately embrace their own passion & truth... but not only do those arcs play out completely differently, zuko and min-gi are completely different people, and if anything, zuko's approach to life is far more like ryan's (ie, jumping off a cliff and hoping he lands on his feet).

but what i think you're really asking, at the end of the day, is how emotionally mature, self-aware, and capable of positive growth is each atla character? because how am i supposed to know what the train would do to their psyches, considering each external situation would shape them differently, and unless i'm supposed to meticulously craft fanfiction for each one of them (which i wouldn't be opposed to doing, but only for one character, i simply cannot do all nine – also, i'm surprised infinity train AUs aren't more common, but then again i'm not particularly familiar with fanficition, so maybe it is!), it would only be an approximation, in which i identify their core problem (which again, is not how real people work, or even how atla characters work, but how The Train works) and then analyze how long it would take for each of them to solve said problem.

so, that was a very long-winded preface. without further ado:

aang's main problem is that he keeps running away from his problems, which is to say, distracting himself from the enormity of his grief. personally, i would say his coping mechanism isn't the worst. after all, he experiences so much world-shattering pain in such a short span of time, and he does deserve to preserve his childhood and his innocence for as long as possible. but, for the purposes of the narrative, the train must necessarily disagree. he must confront his grief head-on, without distracting himself from it or flying into a destructive rage that he'd only regret later. it also depends on who his companions are. with katara by his side, he can get through anything (and vice versa), but it's unclear who will be there to guide him through his pain. that said, i know he'd make it through okay. he's aang. he has to.

katara lives in a fairytale. like i said with aang, that's not really a bad thing. she's a great kid with big dreams and a big heart. she wants to save the world, and – guess what! – she does. but living in a storybook strips one's worldview of the nuances of life, not simply the harsh realities of the world, but also the full extent of one's personhood, outside of simply the black and white worldview of heroes and villains. katara's apotheosis is when she confronts yon rha, looks him in the eyes, and sees a human being staring back at her, another human being. she is no longer in a revenge tale. she is out of stories to tell herself. (life doesn't make narrative sense.) ironically, the train is a metaphor for storytelling, so katara coming to realize that she isn't in a story would both be confusingly meta and also fucking brilliant (if i do say so, personally). i don't know how exactly it would play out, but by god i would pay to see it.

in many ways, sokka is remarkably open-minded, and in many ways, sokka is extremely stubborn. i think he'd come to terms with his own emotional growth (which would be rooted in learning his own self-worth) faster than he'd come to terms with the train itself. "okay, fine, yeah, i deserve love regardless of what i can do for other people, but WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS PLACE?!?!?" his journey through the train is actually everyone else's dream experience on the train. passengers and denizens alike keep falling in love with him (or at the very least, admiring him more than they've ever admired anyone they've ever met), but he doesn't even notice because he's too busy being extremely suspicious of everything he comes into contact with. yes, he'll solve your problems and puzzles and help people and make meaningful connections and eventually he might start to realize that he is worth something even when he's alone, even (especially) when he's being unconventional or "weird" or "selfish." but even once he does get his door, does he walk through it? oh no, he takes it apart and tries to figure out how it just created a fucking portal. so while he would technically "do" quite well, he is never leaving that fucking train. rip sokka.

well, toph needs to learn to accept and embrace her own vulnerability. she definitely goes through that same crystal karaoke car tulip did. that, or the train just tortures her by putting her in increasingly more painful situations in which she must ask for help. but that's too awful to even think about, so i'm just gonna say she has to sing karaoke.

zuko needs to learn to trust his instincts and his own internal moral compass instead of the external pressures being forced upon him by his Father (capital F to emphasize that his nation & his father – aka the patriarchy – are one & the same for him, lmao). and he would fail. a lot. but eventually he would realize that his number goes down when he lets himself be himself, and he would leave the train happy. he probably also gets a bunch of cute little talking animal companions to guide him through. he deserves it.

the train appears to suki while she's having a breakdown in solitary confinement at the boiling rock. she finds healthy ways to cope with being put through hell while on the train, and by the time she gets off, she's being let out of solitary. it is a very rewarding experience, and one that she can swear wasn't just some hallucination. she's constantly telling herself yes, of course it was just a hallucination.... but still... it felt so real....

if i had to diagnose azula with one singular problem that plagues her at the core of her very being, it would have to be her fear of rejection. but it's not good enough to just keep having train cars reject azula, she has to accept that rejection, instead of just intimidating people into submission after the fact. she needs to understand why she is being rejected, and be fine with it, and learn from it, instead of letting her lack of universal perfection in every area anyone could ever excel in shake her to her very core. when ty lee proved that she secured the affections of dumb stupid boys better than azula ever could, she did an arson to cope (which of course is still very valid of her uwu). azula needs to learn to come in second place, third place, even last place, and shrug it off, think to herself, "hopefully i'll do better next time, and if not, that's okay also," and once that happens, everything else will fall into place. though maybe she could read bell hooks or smth at some point on the train cuz i think that could help too.

mai needs to stop being so goddamn depressed all the time. has she tried lexapro, or perhaps using a lightbox in winter? her favorite coping mechanism, knives, only helps her feel something some of the time, but most (if not all) of the time she's still being expected to play a part. has she tried, like, being herself? i heard from zuko (you know, the guy? from the train?) that "being yourself" works wonders. so the train gives her that opportunity. and she actually even enjoys herself for once in her miserable fucking life.

omg there must've been some sort of mistake ty lee was totally sent here by accident because she's actually super happy all the time and doesn't have any problems!!!!!!!! jk, can u even imagine? ty lee hates her life too, she just doesn't go around advertising it like mai does with her big dyke boots and depressing eyeliner. but apparently she also needs to learn how to "be herself," whatever that means. as if life isn't a constant performance, you know, like jacques said or whatever. she sees mai on the train. she rolls her big beautiful brown eyes. "oh god, not you too."

#obeetlebeetle #fuck this took me over an hour to write #asks #the gaang and #analysis #AUs #synthesis #mailee infinity train au when.....#sokka is the only one who dies on the train. unfortunate. aunt wu was right once again.#god this question was hard #so many factors to consider #i want the mailee season tho #and i want it NOW!

134 notes · View notes