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heartfeltcierra · 1 year

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Kid X Insecure Plus Sized Female (Tomboy) reader

Request-Hey Cierra! I wanted to say I love your insecure plus sized reader stories!!!!! I want to request Kid with a insecure plus sized reader who is more on the tom boyish side. Maybe she tries to impress him and it backfires or something to that extent! Thank you

AN-I have been dying to write for this man! Thank you so much I absolutely loved this idea. I really liked the way reader comes across, she is honestly a badass and I love her. Thank you @seafoamxshayde for helping me edit.

Masterlist

Word count- 8.1k

Readers thoughts are in bold and italics

Other Characters- Killer, Heat and Wire

! Contents/Warnings!

Very suggestive themes towards the end(͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖), Violence, Mentions of a burning building, Mentions of weapons, Reader is a weapons specialist, Yelling, Cussing, insecurities regarding femininity and being plus sized, Reader gets humiliated in front of a crowd, Mentions of alcohol consumption, Destructive thoughts.

ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ Enjoy! -Love, Cierra

“Get up Y/N we're about to port!” Heat shook your body, but you didn’t move a muscle. “Please wake up!”

“Nooo, I’m sleepy~.” Your groan in your semi awake state. “Gimme five more minutes.”

“But you told me to wake you up no matter what.” He gives you a few more nudges. “You said you had something very important you needed to do today, remember?”

“I’M UP.” The sleepiness you felt moments ago was replaced by a sense of urgency. Today was the day! “Thank you, Heat. You're so reliable.”

“You're welcome.” You see a small blush paint his face. “Killer said to come see him in the kitchen first.”

“Gottcha.” Heat leaves your bedroom so you can get ready.

You throw some comfy clothes on and walk over to your “closet”, but you just call it your mini arsenal.Instead of clothes it's filled with everything from throwing knives, swords, polearms, guns, grenades, bombs and even a few bazookas.

“Where are you?” Your eyes scan over the insane amount of artillery. “There you are!” You smile and grab the old dagger you’ve deemed your favorite. It was also your first ever weapon. Your crush since childhood and current captain Kid gave it to you years ago saying “You need to defend yourself in case I’m not around.” And you took that to heart. You learnt everything you could about defending yourself. Gradually you dabbled into different weapons, thus creating your obsession.

But when there is obsession, there is also vast knowledge. You are second to none when it comes to weaponry and you know how to wield just about anything like a pro. Enemies undermine you due to being a bigger girl, but your quick to show them badass comes in many different shapes and sizes.

You can even do minor repairs to weapons with the help of your captain. He is actually the one who recently redone the handle on your beloved dagger. Kid put so much thought into the fine details. He etched your initials into the side of the handle along with his Jolly Roger, made the hand guard in the shape of a star and to top it off, made a new holster for it. Everytime you look at it reminds you why you're so in love with him. He may be a grouch, but he is your grouch. Well he’s not technically yours, yet.

You’ve kept your feelings for him locked away thanks to all of your insecurities. As a fighter you're confident, but as a woman..not so much. You recall a newspaper article titled “New world beauty standards.” According to it most men sailing the Grandline preferred women with hourglass bodies, petite structures, and next to no body fat besides boobs and ass. It also mentioned they preferred women who were cute and in touch with their femininity. You may not be able to change your body size or shape, but the rest of it you can learn.

“I hope you're ready, Eustass Kid.” You holster the dagger around your thigh and head to the kitchen.

~~~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

“Good morning.” You walk into the kitchen to see Killer frying up something. “Whatcha making?”

“Pancakes, your favorite.” You watch as he flips the pan like a pro. “I figured you’d want to start your day off right considering you're finally fessin up to Kid. That is if you haven’t chickened out...” Killer lays a plate of pancakes in front of you.

“I’m not backing down this time, as a matter of fact I'm doing it at tonight's party.” You stab your fork into the pancakes and take a big bite. “Heat told me we would be porting soon. Once we do I’m going to head into town. I need to pick a few things up….. But.”

“First of all don’t talk with your mouth full and let me guess Y/N.” Killer crosses his arms. “You're broke.”

“How did you know?” You furrow your brows.

“I’ve known you long enough to know your bad spending habits. But I hate to break it to you.” Killer sat down before breaking the bad news. “I’ve got to restock on food and other supplies, meaning I have no extra. Sorry.” Looks like I’ll have to use my back up plan.

“That’s okay Killer.” You stuff the last bit of pancake in your mouth. “I’ll figure something out.”

“So what exactly are you going to get anyways?” Killers' questions cause your cheeks to heat up.

“Well I’m not really sure, but I want to do something special. I figured I’d get a makeover or something in town.” You may not have a master plan, but you're a good improviser.

“I see. So how are you going to get the money to do that?” The masked man questions, little did he know…..

“You're not my only piggy bank Killer.” A devious smile forms on your face. “I’ve got a red one too.”

“What the hell did you just call me?” He may wear a mask, but you didn't need to see his face to know he was pissed.

“Uh.. Nothing. Hey look at the time. Gotta got. Thanks for the food!” You jump up from your chair and speed walk out of the kitchen only to run into something hard.

“Dammit Y/N!” You look up and see your said red piggy bank and captain giving you a not so nice look. “Watch where you're going.”

“Oops.” You fight back the urge to snap right back at him, instead you back away and look him up and down. Admiring the view~ “Wow captain, your muscles keep getting bigger and bigger every time I see you. If I’m not careful I'll run into you one day and get sent flying overboard!” You don’t know how to flirt all that well, but you know how to butter Kid up and all it took was a simple compliment.

“Shut up.” He snaps his head away from your prying eyes. But judging from the red on the tips of his ears, it worked. “Anyways we are going to be dropping anchor soon. Do you have money?” No but I’m about to~

“So funny story…” Kid rolls his eyes as you make up an excuse for your lack of cash. “And that’s why I am broke.”

“I should have known.” He shoots you a wicked smirk before bending down to your eye level. “You know what Y/N? You keep getting broker and broker every time I run into you.” His metallic hand grabs yours before his flesh hand drops a leather pouch in your palm. “I heard this island has some good weapons shops.” He trails off. “Just don’t go buying something stupid, got it?”

“Me, buy something stupid? Never!” A smile forms on your face. Maybe I should call him a ‘Kiddy Bank’. “Thank you.”

“Hey captain, we're dropping anchor!” You hear Wire call from the deck.

“Okay everyone listen up.” Kid’s voice booms. After giving the crew different tasks Kid dismisses you. Operation doll up Y/N was officially on.

~~~~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

In town

After managing to sneak away from the crew you reach the city. It was pretty large and filled with restaurants, bars and plenty of places to shop. You wander around with no rhyme or reason while trying to think of what to get or do. Out of the corner of your eye you spot a newspaper and magazine stand.

You look over all of the magazines until one catches your attention. The girl on the front was holding a perfume bottle with big bold letters above it that said “The Granline Beauty Insider.” You open the magazine and skim through it. It was mostly ads for different cosmetics, but it did have some helpful pointers like, “Speak softly and have good posture.” “Wear red, it’s sexy.” “Walk slowly and sway your hips; it drives guys crazy!” “Wear a pair of high heels.” “Buy lingerie.” You slam the magazine shut out of embarrassment. I doubt I’ll need that.

After walking around and brainstorming you come up with a plan. First thing on your agenda- Buy and learn how to use makeup. You ask a local and they point you towards a cosmetics shop.

~~~~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

At the cosmetics shop

“Hello there!” The worker greets you with a wide smile. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Umm yeah actually.” You look around at the overwhelming amount of makeup products. “I’ve never really worn makeup and I don’t know a thing about it.”

“Oh I see. Well don’t worry!” The worker grabs your hand. “First things first let's find the correct foundation shade you need. Also what color theme are you going for?”

“Red please.”

She ran you all over the store while giving you pointers on how to apply everything she was giving you. You made mental notes on all of the techniques she uses to make a ‘Flawless look’.

“I think that’s got all the basics. I’ll take this up to the register and let you look around some more!” You thank the clerk and explore the store on your own.

A pleasant smell invades your nostrils. You follow said smell until you end up in the perfume section of the store. They have the bottle of perfume the girl on the magazine cover was holding. Apparently it was called ‘Grandline Goddess’. You spray a little on your wrist and get sent straight to heaven. According to the box the notes were flowery orchard, tropical fruit with a hint of musk. You're coming with me.

“Is this all for you?” You nod at the clerk. “Alright, your total is 7,000 berries.” HUH?!

“Here you go.” You hand over the cash while holding back a scream.

“Thank you! I hope my crash course lesson was helpful!” The clerk hands you the bag.

“It was. Thank you so much for your help.” She waves you out as you leave the store. “Holy crap that was expensive!” Lucky for you the pouch Kid gave you was filled to the brim, so you still have quite a bit left.

~~~~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

The next mission was to find something to wear and a pair of shoes. Most of your closet consisted of sleep clothes, tactical gear and clothes that give you max mobility for fighting. And as far as shoes go you had either boots or sneakers.

You window shop trying to find a shop that carries your size. So far most of the shops that had anything cute didn’t carry plus sizes which was a bummer. But when you were at wits end you found a plus sized boutique and the clothes looked cute and stylish. Jackpot.

~~~~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

In the boutique

“Welcome! If you need any help let me know!” You smile at the clerk before exploring the store. It was amazing how many colors and variations of dresses they have. But one particular dress caught your attention. The shade of red matches perfectly with the makeup you bought and it was in your size.

“Can I try this one on?” You hold the dress up, grabbing the clerks attention.

“Certainly, I’ll show you the fitting rooms. Right this way please.”

~~~~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

In the fitting rooms

“I’ll be right outside, please let me know if you need help.” The clerk steps out, leaving you alone.

You do your best to avoid looking in the mirror while undressing. It's sad how taking one look at your body could destroy everything.Your confidence, your mood and self worth could be taken away at a single glance. With a deep sigh you zip the dress up with the help of a hanger. Your fingers smooth the fabric to your body as your face the mirror. You’ve never really thought anything looked good on you, but the dress isn’t half bad. It fits just right and the magazine wasn’t lying when it said red was sexy.

“That dress was made for you! You look absolutely marvelous!” The clerk beams the moment you step out of the dressing room. “Do a spin for me!” You smile and spin around in circles and feel something fall off you in the process. “Oh my.” You stop and see your dagger had fallen off and into the floor. Oh crap.

“My bad haha.” You and the clerk share an awkward laugh. “You know us girls gotta protect ourselves.” You trail off and strap the dagger back to your thigh.

“Yeah, you're right.” The clerk relaxes. “Anyways I think I have a pair of heels that would look good with the dress. What is your shoe size?” You tell her and she disappears into the store before coming back with a box. She laid the heels in front of you. You put them on, but did not take a step out of fear. You look in the mirror and see she was right, they really tie the outfit together. But the real question was can you walk in them and not kill yourself? For better or worse you trust you can learn.

“I’ll take both please!”

~~~~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

By the time you got done shopping the sun was starting to set. Blue and pink hues fill the sky. You recall Kid mentioning when the sky looks like this at sunset, it was a good omen for smooth sailing. Hopefully that means tonight will go smoothly too.

“I better head back to the Victoria.” You took a few steps before your mini transponder snail began to ring. “Hello, you have the pleasure of speaking to the one and only Y/N.”

“Wow, I’m honored.” Killer voice deadpans. “So change of plans. No party on the ship tonight.” Your jaw almost hits the ground at his words. “Instead Kid wants everyone to meet at the bar near the end of the town in an hour.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see ya there.” Click. You release a heavy sigh. It was good that there would still be some form of celebration, but you hoped it would be on the ship for the sake of privacy. “It’s going to be okay. You’ve got this Y/N.” You mentally pat yourself on the back. No backing out.

~~~~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

You rush back to the ship and start getting ready. You lay out all of the makeup you bought and start applying it. Despite never having used makeup before, you do a damn good job. Everything was blended well, your eyeshadow was symmetrical and the whole look was overall decent.

The dress smooths over your body once more. You walk over to the full length mirror by your bathroom and check yourself out. Despite your initial worry, you feel confident and even a little sexy. But something was missing… Jewelry. You dig around in your room until you find the jewelry box you stole from an enemy ship a while back. It of course was filled with stolen jewelry. You go through it until you find something to match your outfit. A golden necklace with a red heart charm catches your eyes. Perfect.

You put the necklace and earrings on and finish off with a few sprays of perfume. But now comes the hard part. The heels. Thankfully the heel wasn’t crazy high off the ground, but it was enough for you to feel off balance. You nearly face plant a couple times but after doing a few circles around your room you feel confident enough to walk in them.

You almost walk out the door but remember something important. A weapon. Hopefully tonight you don’t have to use one, but with Kid and the rest of the crew, you never know what is going to happen.

“Let’s see. I need something to match.” You search once again and spot the perfect one.

~~~~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

You were the first one to show up at the bar, much to your surprise. You figured you’d walk in to see Kid throwing back drinks and scaring people away. But neither him or the rest of the crew has shown up. You find a vacant table and wait for everyone else. A wave of nervousness crashes over you when you think about Kid. Will he like how I look? As if on cue the bar doors burst open, revealing the man of the hour.

Kid walks in like he owns the place with Killer following behind. The pair spot you and start to walk your way. Your heartbeat picks up when a pair of orange eyes land on you. With a few heavy steps, Kid was standing right in front of you. His eyes look you up and down before they stall on your face.

“Hey Kid, there is something I need to tell you.” You spoke in a softer tone and straightened your back up. For a moment he just stares at you. “Kid I lo-” Your cut off by Kid’s howling laughter.

“Why are you talking like that and what the hell is all over your face?” You were absolutely floored by his reaction. “And when did you start wearing dresses? It doesn't suit you at all.” His words make your heart drop. He let out one last laugh before going up to the bar,completely throwing you off. You clench your teeth and blink a few tears away.

“Y/N…” Killer’s voice snaps you from your thoughts.

“It's fine.” You cringe at the way your voice cracks. Hold it together Y/N, you're strong.

“Killer get over here!” Kid’s voice booms against the walls of the bar.

“You better go before he starts trouble.” You give the masked man a fake smile. He nods before joining Kid at the bar. Part of you wants to leave so you can cry, while the other part wants to waltz up to Kid and knock his lights out for laughing at you. Crying would only destroy your makeup and punching Kid wouldn't change a damn thing. I guess I’ll stay and see how things play out.

Heat, wire and the rest of the crew came filing in one by one. The music in the bar was loud and energetic as people hit the dance floor. Everyone not dancing was laughing and enjoying their drinks, while you sat alone, sulking like a kicked puppy.

“I need to find a girl to dance with.” The men sitting at the table next to you look around the room for possible takers.

“There’s you one.” You can feel their judgmental eyes study your body as they laugh.

“Hell no man.” You clench your fist knowing they are making fun of you. It’s most definitely not the first time it’s happened, but right now you were in no mood.

“I have ears, you jackasses.” You shoot the men a nasty glare.

“No wonder you're all by yourself. Not only are you fat, but you're a bitch too.” You only smirk at the man's comment.

“You forgot one thing.” You slowly bring the skirt of your dress up to reveal the red and gold flintlock gun strapped to your thigh. “I’m also packing.” You point your finger to each man at the table. “I have three bullets, one for each of you, with the name 'asshole' written on them.” The men look taken back, just the reaction you wanted. “And if you're wanting to find a partner so badly I can send you straight to hell, I heard the devil really knows how to dance~” Your eyes stare into their fear stricken ones as you slowly pull the gun from the holster. One by one they ran out of the bar with their tails tucked between their legs. “That’s what I thought.” You bring your dress back down. “Cowards.”

You take a deep breath and try to not let their comments bother you, but what they said stung a little. I need a distraction. Your eyes land on the dance floor, you notice some of the crew getting down and dirty. They had gorgeous girls grinding up against them. At this rate you doubt any of them will be coming back to the ship tonight.

“You look like you could use this.” Killer walks up and sits a drink in front of you. You murmur a thanks before chugging the whole thing down. “I’m sorry tonight didn’t go how you planned and if it's any consolation, I think you look great.”

“Thanks Killer. And it’s okay.” You lie. It’s really not okay and you're not okay at all. You're putting up a good front at least. “I should have known, I mean it is Kid after all…”

“Still..” The blonde taps his fingers against the table.

“You know what.” You clench your fist in frustration. I need to do something. “I think I want to have a little chat with him.”

“Okay, but I’m going with you.” You and Killer stand up from the table and walk towards the bar.

You trail right behind Killer as he navigates the crowd. From time to time you’ve had to grab the back of his shirt thanks to the unfamiliar shoes you wore. You think of what you're going to tell Kid, how you should word it and if you’ll actually say anything at all. You're pulled away from your thoughts as you ram right into Killer’s back.

“Is something wrong Killer? Why did you stop?” His whole body was tensing up. You tug the bag of his shirt demanding an answer. “Helllooo? Earth to Killer?”

“Y/N, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” You could hear his voice waiver over the music. He’s hiding something.

“Killer what’s wrong?” He didn’t answer. “Killer let me see.”

“No Y/N, let’s just leave.” Killer turns around and tries to get you to go back, but you slip past him. “Y/N wait, don’t!” It was too late.

Your eyes land on Kid and the two harlots in his laps. You’ve always heard the phrase “It felt like my world fell apart.” and now you finally know what the feeling behind that was. Your mouth goes dry. The world starts spinning. Shit, I did all of this for nothing.

The stinging in your eyes was becoming unbearable. They were so beautiful, feminine, and thin. Everything you were not and everything you wanted to be. The skimpy outfits they had on showed off their perfect figures. You could already imagine the laughs you’d get if you ever wore anything like that. They were the embodiment of sexy. Something you tried to achieve tonight but failed. You were crazy to think you’d turn heads when this was your competition. But at the end of that day that's how it’s always been. You were so jealous, so full of rage and at the same time your heart was shattering. The iron wall you put up masking how you truly feel was breaking at the hinges. You finally look away, unable to handle it a second longer.

“Killer, I'm going back to the ship.” You feel your lip quiver as tears form in your eyes. “I don’t feel good.” You try to run from him but he grabs your wrist.

“Y/N, wait.” You try to shake out of his firm grip.

“Killer I can’t watch that a second longer. I just can’t.” The last part comes out as a sob. “I don’t want to be here, for fucks sake let me go!”

“At Least let me walk you back.” You shake your head, company is the last thing you need.

“No, please just leave me alone.” You pull away from Killer and run towards the door.

You struggle to fight the crowd with tears blurring your vision. A heavy feeling was conjuring in your chest with each unsteady step you took. That was supposed to be me with him.

I need to get out of here. Your steps become sloppy as you try to hurry, causing you to lose your footing. You hit the wooden floor below you face first. The crowd of people around you fell silent. You rise up on your knees and realize something was wrong. Looking down you see a trail of red fabric wrapped around a loose nail on the bar's floor. That red trail of fabric led up to your stomach that was now showing. You try to cover yourself with your hands, but nothing you could do would make their prying eyes leave your body.

Your eyes widen in horror as the people around you start to laugh. You try to stand up but your shoe slips, sending you right back to the floor. Fingers point at you like you were a circus animal performing a trick. It was absolutely mortifying.

Their laughter, their shushed insults swirl in your head with the booming music. The room around you seemed to be getting larger and larger, or maybe you were getting smaller. It was all too much.

“Here Y/N. I’ll help you get up.” You see Killer holding his hand out, but you smack it away.

“I don’t need pity from you!” Your yell causes the crowd to go silent. You stand up on your own and head towards the bar's exit. “I’m going back to the ship. And don’t you dare follow me.” You sling your heels off and use them to cover as much of your bare stomach as you can. You walk out of the bar barefoot and humiliated.

~~~~ʕ•́ᴥ•

You board the ship and head straight to the safety of your room. You throw your heels to the floor and walk in front of your mirror. The mascara left trails of black down your tear soaked face. Your makeup you worked so hard on perfecting was destroyed, along with the torn dress. The brief moment feeling pretty and confident was gone and replaced by humiliation and disgust. Your hand wraps around the necklace's gold chain before yanking it off.. I’m worthless. You let the torn dress fall to the floor. I’m nothing. You look at your naked body in the mirror. I’m just a joke.

“Why can’t I lose weight? Why can’t I be pretty? Why can’t I be someone else?” You yell at your reflection while clenching your fist, fighting the urge to punch the mirror. “Goddammit, I can't even stand to look at myself!”

The overwhelming emotions coursing through you causes your knees to give out. You slide to the floor with hands gripping your hair. Swirls of laughter entwined with your destructive thoughts. I hate you, I hate you so much.

Purururu~Purururu~

You hesitate for a moment, but your trembling hand reaches over and grabs the ringing transponder snail.

“Hello?” You try to sound as calm as possible.

“Y/N have you made it back to the ship?” You feel a pang of guilt hearing Killer’s voice remembering what you did to him.

“I made it back, but Killer.. I-I’m.” Hot tears roll down your face. “I’m sorry for yelling at you and smacking your hand. You were just trying to help me..”

“It’s okay Y/N.” Killer tries to reassure you, but it doesn't work.

“It is not okay!” Your body shook trying to fight back wails. Get a grip dammit. “I’m so sorry,I- I’m being emotional. It’s just.. I thought Kid would have liked how I looked ya know.” You wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “I tried so hard but I wasn’t good enough. I never am.”

“That’s not true.” Killer growls. “Don’t say shit like that.”

“Yes it is Killer. You saw how everyone laughed at me like I was some kind of freak. All because of my stomach showing. Did you see how many girls in the bar were walking around wearing bikinis with their stomachs out? No one was laughing at them and you want to know why? Because they are beautiful and I am not.” Killer went quiet as if he was unable to find words to comfort you. “I’m sorry I’m having a melt down on you. This was supposed to be a fun night and I ruined it all because I wanted to tell Kid I love him.” But the love is unrequited. It’s something only you will hold near and dear to your heart, but you're also the sole bearer of its pain. “Killer, don't worry about me, go back into the bar and enjoy yourself. A hot shower should fix me right up. Goodnight.” You hang up before Killer could protest any further and head into the bathroom.

~~~~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

Steam from the shower fills your small bathroom. The hot water wraps around your body in a blanket like comfort. The warmth brings back the fond memory between you and Kid. It was when you all first set sail years ago. The ship had to be docked on a Winter Island for emergency repairs. You were used to the South Blue’s mild and warm weather. It only took 1 day of the harsh cold for you to fall ill. No matter how many layers of clothes you had on, no matter how many blankets you wrapped around your body, nothing could warm you.

~~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~~

“Here Y/N, I made you some hot chocolate.” Killer handed you a big mug. “Be careful, don’t get burnt.”

“Thank you.” Your voice was dry and raspy from coughing. “I haven’t heard Kid yelling or rampaging recently. Is he okay?” You blew the beverage to cool it, before taking a sip. Killer’s laugh reverberated in the room.

“Yeah he’s okay. He’s been cooped up in his workshop. Last time I checked on him he said he was about done with whatever it is he’s working on.” Killer sat on the small wooden chair by your bed.

“Probably something to do with the ship. Hopefully we get out of here soon or I might turn into a Y/N popsicle.” You drank all of the hot cocoa down before letting out a pleased sigh.

“We should be done soon, just rest up for now.” Killer ruffled your hair, something he always did when he was worried about you.”If you need anything let me know.”

“Okay.” You handed the empty mug to him before he walked out of the room.

When you woke up next it was already dark outside. The temperature in the room had dropped even more. You couldn't wait to get the hell away from the snowy hellhole. Your ears perked up when you heard heavy footsteps approaching. You recognized the pattern immediately. The door handle turned and the door opened to reveal a very tired looking Eustass Kid.

“Hey captain.” You gave the red head a weak smile. He didn’t say anything as he shut the door behind him. You noticed he was carrying something in his hands. He stood beside the bed and unrolled what appeared to be a blanket.

“Here.” He pulled the covers off of your body and placed the blanket onto your body. The fuzzy fur that lined it felt so good against your shivering form. “If you click this button it warms up.” He clicked the button and you immediately started to feel the warmth radiate from it. So this is what he’s been working on all this time.

“Thank you Kid.” You snuggled into the blanket.

“Yeah, whatever.” You watched a pink blush decorate his cheeks. You opened your mouth to tease him, but started to cough instead. The force from the coughs caused your body to quake. You pointed at the glass of water on your nightstand. Kid frantically grabbed it and held it against your lips. You gulped the water down and pulled away to take a breath.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.” You never liked showing any kind of weakness, especially around Kid.

“It’s okay, you can’t help it.” Kid started to walk over to your bedroom door. You frowned knowing he was going to leave. But to your surprise he didn’t, instead you heard the lock on your door get turned. He kicked his boots off beside the door before he walked back over to the bed. “Move over.”

“Huh?” Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched him remove his jacket, followed by his shirt.

“Don’t make it weird. Just shut up and do what I say.” His non existent eyebrow twitched. Make it weird? You nodded your head and moved over in bed. The bed creaked as Kid’s massive body crawled beside you. Your eyes were glued to his every move as he got comfortable. He was so close that you could feel his body heat. You covered the blankets over your face to hide your giddy expression. But who could blame you, your longtime crush laid shirtless right beside you. “What the hell are you looking at!?” Kid growled out, causing you to turn away from him in the bed. I guess I made it weird.. Oops.

“I’m sorry.” It was embarrassing as hell getting caught checking him out, but it was well worth it.

“Sure you are.” The hairs on your neck stood up hearing how close he was. The bed shifted as he moved until his chest was pressed against your back. He draped a muscular arm around your plush midsection and placed his head on top of yours. Your mind went blank processing what was going on, Eustass Kid was cuddling you. It was strange how small and safe you felt in that moment, like nothing big and bad in the world could get you. It was the most wonderful feeling ever and you never wanted it to end. “Now go to sleep.” You relaxed into his protective hold.

“Roger that captain.” You yawned as you spoke. Between Kid’s warmth and the heated blanket, you were getting coxed right into sleep. You were almost there when you felt Kid gently tighten his grip on you.

“You're okay…… You’re gonna be okay Y/N.” Kid’s voice was barely above a wispear. Your eyes shot open realizing he was saying that to reassure not you, but himself. He must think I’m asleep. “I’ll keep you warm. No matter what.” He may be terrible at showing emotions, but the words he spoke conveyed how much he cared and how worried he was about you.

~~~~Flashback end~~~~

But the warmth from that night was long gone.

“Why not me?” You keep replaying the scene over and over in your head. The way the girls giggled as they traced his biceps. The way they laid against his chest while giving him bedroom eyes. You could only hope he wasn’t going to bring them back to the ship, the last thing you need to hear is him screwing them all night. You feel a throb in your chest just thinking about it. You were sabotaging yourself with no end in sight. The warm shower water was long gone at this point and replaced by the cold.

“I thought you said you would keep me warm? What a fucking liar.”

~~~~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

Meanwhile at the bar..

“I would but the bar is on fir.” *Click* Well she hung up.” Killer put the teary eyed snail back into his pocket. “You catch all of that Kid?”

“Yeah, I did.” Kid stood right beside Killer in front of the bar that is now burning to the ground . “What should I do?”

“Well Kid.. I think you should apologize to her. She was so excited about tonight and it went up in smoke.Literally” The bar behind them crashes to the ground. “You love her too, don’t you?”

“I’m no good for her Killer.” Kid clenches his fist. “I hurt her and she is crying because of me. I don’t deserve her. Not one bit.”

“That’s not for you to decide. At the end of the day she wants you Kid.” Killer sighs and places an arm on Kid’s shoulder. “Yes you hurt Y/N, yes she is crying. That’s why you need to go fix it and make sure it never happens again. Now go to her.” Kid contemplated for a moment before making up his mind.

“Killer, you're in charge, take the crew to a different bar.” A scream comes from the pile of burning bar. Kid smirks hearing it. “Seems like one of the lousy fucks that laughed at Y/N didn’t die after I got done with em. But they won’t survive getting burned alive.”

“You technically laughed at her too.” Guilt fills Kid even more.

“I know, shut up.” Kid turns away from his friend. “I just wasn’t used to her looking like that and I didn’t know how to react. It’s not that I didn’t like it or anything..”

“Enough talking.” Killer gave Kid a push before walking away with the rest of the crew. “Go make things right kid. and try to be gentle doing so.”

Kid ran down the empty streets, straight towards the Victoria. He made a few stops, stealing a few things that he hopes would bring a smile back to your face.

~~~~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

Your body shivers when you step out of the shower. You shouldn’t have stood under the cold water for that long, but you were numb. Physically and mentally. You dry yourself off with a fluffy towel before changing into your night clothes. It felt good to be free of makeup and free of that dress, but it still hurt knowing it was all for nothing. You step out of the bathroom and throw the wet towel in a basket.

“Can we talk?” Your body tenses up ready to fight the intruder until you realize who it was. Kid sat at the edge of your bed, holding a huge bouquet of flowers and a sword.

“Why are you here Kid? Why did you leave the bar?” You shoot him a confused look.

“I burnt that lame ass bar to the ground.” His crazy smile fills his face but goes away in an instant. “More importantly, why did you walk home by yourself? It’s dangerous for a woman. I know you were upset, but I would have came and-”

“Don’t be a sexist pig, besides you looked preoccupied.” The tension in the room was becoming thick and unbearable. “Besides, a woman that looks like me has nothing to worry about.”

“What the hell does that mean Y/N?” Kid’s voice booms against the walls of your room. You could feel your blood boil at his outburst, all the pent up anger and sadness was about to pop.

“What it means is exactly what you think it means, Eustass.” Your brows furrow in anger. “Don’t pretend like you give a shit all of a sudden. You sure didn’t care back at the bar.”

“That’s not true Y/N.” You slam your foot down in frustration at his words. Liar.

“Bullshit Kid! I got my makeup done, dressed pretty, and I tried to be cute just for you and you didn't even care. You only laughed in my face.” At this point you didn’t care what came out of your mouth. “I was going to tell you how I’ve loved you for years. But seeing those girls in your lap reminded me why I keep my feelings secret all this time. Because I knew this is how it would turn out. With all the gorgeous women out there, why the hell would anyone want me. I don’t even want me. You know what I'd give up to look like one of those girls? The envy I feel towards them is down right suffocating..” Your hands come up to cradle your face. “I can’t stand this and I can’t stand you Kid so get out.”

Kid didn’t move. He didn’t speak. Your angry voice fills his ears and your tears reflect in his eyes. At this moment he realizes just how much damage he caused. He is unsure what to do or how to make you feel better. Was there even anything that could? “Go make things right kid. and try to be gentle doing so.”

“Come here Y/N.” He held his flesh hand out. “You're shaking.”

“My shower got cold, but I’ll be fine. Just go away..” Kid stood up, causing you to take a few steps back to create some distance. “I said go away!”

“I’m sorry Y/N.” You're frozen in shock, he has never said sorry to anyone a day in his life. “This is my fault. Truth is I love you too, but I just can’t help but think you deserve someone better. Someone who doesn't get pissy at the drop of a hat, someone who isn’t a huge asshole like I am. Someone more stable. I’m not going to make anymore excuses, just know I do love you. So please come here.”

“I won’t.” Your back was now flush against your bedroom door. Kid turns around and picks up the sword he brought with him.

“Look at what I got~.” He waves the sword as if to bribe you. “I’ll give it to you if you come here~”

“Leave Kid.” You cross your arms and turn away. “And take that lames ass sword and tacky bouquet with you.” The floor vibrates as Kid walks right up to you.

“Oh yeah?” He slams his hands on either side of your head. He was trying to intimidate you but you had no plans on backing down. Your sharp eyes never waiver from his and you stand your ground firmly. “That’s my girl.” His comment caught you so off guard your mind went blank. Kid took advantage of that by wrapping his flesh arm around your back to pull you against him.

“Don’t play with me Kid.” You try to get out of his grasp but his metallic hand comes around your back, completely caging you against his chest. “You just wait Eustass Kid, once I wiggle my way out yo-” You stall the moment you see the gentle look on his face. His smile wasn’t crazy big or sinister. It was pleasant, calm, and very unlike him.

“Want to know something?” He pulls your body away from him a little before his flesh hand cups your tear soaked cheek. “I thought you looked damn good tonight. If I didn’t laugh my jaw would have fallen clean to the floor. But I was right when I said it didn’t suit you.” You raise your brow. So he liked how you looked but it somehow didn’t suit you? “You don’t need dresses or make up to impress me. You do that everyday just being yourself. You don’t have to be thin, feminine or none of that crap. I don’t want you to be anyone else but you. I love everything about you Y/N. I love that excited look you get when you find a really cool weapon or how your eyes get crazy when that said weapon blows something up. I love how you stay close to me when we are fighting, and I know it’s not because you're scared or need my protection which you will always have no matter what. You stay beside me to protect me from my own recklessness.”

“Kid…” Crap, I’m crying again.

“I’m not done yet. I love how you're always broke and bumming money from me. As annoying as it is, I find it cute. I always keep a pouch in my pocket just for you. I bet ya didn’t notice how it has your name engraved on it.”

“Really?” His arms let you go so you could see for yourself. You run over and grab the pouch. You flip it around and see the engraving, but it’s not your name. “Kid, my name is not ‘The reason Eustass Kid is broke’.” You threw the empty pouch at him.

“I’m pretty sure that’s you sweetheart.” Kid fell onto the bed laughing his head off at your pouty expression. “But I truly wouldn't have it any other way. So come here and that’s captain's orders.”

“Fine. I’m tired of arguing.” You mosey your way to him, he spread his legs apart so you could stand in between them. “Just so you know I’m still mad at you.”

“I know. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.” His head came down to rest on your plush stomach. The affection he was giving you felt good, but it didn’t change the fact he was a jerk to you earlier.

“So Captain, you said you would do anything to make things right, is that correct?” You reach down and pull his goggles back before letting them go so they smacked against his skin.

“Ow what the hell was that for?” He rubs the sore spot left from your little assault.

“Consider yourself lucky, that's all I do. Now If you want to make things right, listen up.” Kid’s eyes sharpen at your words. He was getting serious.

“I never want to see anyone in your lap that isn’t me.”

“The throne is all yours.”

“It better be, next I want you to be open to me about your feelings the best you can. And I’ll do the same.”

“Of course.”

“I also want that empty room next to Killers room, I need more room for my weapons.”

“Done, it’s yours”

“One last thing, I want a new money pouch. A much bigger one~”

“I'll think about it, you greedy little woman.”

Giggles erupt from your throat as Kid pulls you down with him on the bed. You smile and nuzzle into his chest, taking in the comforting smell of oil and rum. You know there is alot you and him still need to talk about, but for now you just want to enjoy this moment with him.

“You know I did like the red lipstick you had on, but I think a different shade would have looked better…”

“And what shade did you have in mind?” You lift off of his chest and notice his sinister smirk was back.

“Mine.” Before you could question any further he flips your body underneath his and crashes his red lips against yours. The kiss is rough and fueled by years of pent up passion for one another. His hand snakes down your side to give your thick hip a rough squeeze before your lips detach. “Looks like I was right. I bet it would look good here too, even better here, and here.” His lips begin to trail down your neck. Kid pulls back and stares at your flustered face. “Pretty girl, I think I’ll just paint your whole body red.”

And he did just that.

~~~~~~~Bonus~~~~~~~~

You woke up to see Kid sleeping peacefully as he held you against his chest. But by peacefully you mean he was snoring loudly and drooling like a wild animal. Carefully you wiggle your sore body out of his hold. The heat creeps back onto your cheeks thinking how it got sore to begin with.

You wrap a spare blanket around your nude body and crawl out of the bed. The red beast beside of you thankfully didn’t wake up. I need to wash up. On your way over to the bathroom you stop in front of the mirror and let the blanket fall to the floor. Every spot on your body you hated or felt insecure about was covered in Kid’s red kiss marks. Although the marks got fainter and fainter as they went down your body, they were still there nonetheless.

A smile forms on your lips when Kid appears behind you in the mirror. His flesh arm came around your body as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. He planted a soft kiss behind your ear before looking at you in the mirror. You hold back a laugh seeing how wild his hair looked.

“Good morning Captain bedhead.” You give Kid’s bicep a kiss before resting your head against it.

“And who is that thanks to.” His sleep laced voice grumbles in your ear. “You sure held on to it tight and made it a mess while I ate yo-”

“SHUT IT.” You turn around and hide your face in his chest. “You're one to talk anyways. I look like a piece of abstract art.”

“You do and I’m one hell of an artist.” His hand runs up and down your side. “But I’m nowhere close to being done with you.”

“Huh?” You didn’t have the chance to blink before you were slung back onto the bed. “Kid what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer, instead he walks over to your dresser and grabs the tube of red lipstick out of your pile of makeup.

“This will have to do for now.” He bit down on the cap and spit it out before applying the lipstick. “Seems like I missed a spot. I can’t leave my masterpiece unfinished, now can I?”

~End~

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lumine-no-hikari · 2 months

Text

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #68

Today was a very mixed bag.

This morning, I drove to the good place with all the nice people. The leader spoke on a great many very relevant things, such as challenging the status quo, distinguishing between that which is law and that which is just, and sitting with and trying to help all of the people whom society has tried to convinced us doesn't deserve it. The grammar and structure of the words has since crumbled and faded away from my mind, because I don't think in language at all, but the meaning remains in my mind, as well as the memory of the tears that were shed; I'm aware that at least some of what I've been trying to do is seen and understood by this very amazing person.

I tried to conduct myself in the space a little differently than I usually do. Typically, my presence in any space is a meek one that tries to stay out of the way. But this time, I walked as though I belong there, and mingled with others as though I am also deserving of taking up space. Just to try to push myself even further out of my comfort zone, today I sat at the "old men's" table (there aren't really assigned tables, it's just that there are folks that tend to gather together because they can easily relate to one another) as though I also belonged there, with the intention of listening to them speak to one another and seeing what I could learn. Imagine my shock when they talked to me as though my voice is one worth hearing!! I wasn't really sure what to do or how to behave in response to such a thing, but I did the best I could to try to contribute, even if I felt clumsy and foolish in the process.

At one point, towards the end, one of them said, as a joke, "Drive carefully home; I know how you women like to be speed demons, haha!" I tried to think of something witty and lighthearted to come back with, but the best I could do was smile bashfully. If only I remembered at the time the line that goes, "Ha! I am a woman in the same way that a tomato is a fruit!"

…I happen to live in a female body. But I don't really think about my gender most of the time. It fluctuates wildly between "none" and "yes". I'll take any pronoun, but the one I typically use for myself in my own mind is "it". But this alarms people, and I'm comfortable with letting people use whatever they see when they look at me, so… it's all good, I guess.

I stopped at Eggcellent on the way home. Some time ago, I had asked them if they might keep a QR code of the petition I made for you where folks can see it. Apparently, though, the people did not thoroughly read the blurb that came along with the QR code, and so they scanned it, thinking that it would lead them to a petition for a real-life human being. Their response, when they saw you, according to the kindly shopkeep, was, "Are you kidding me?" Essentially, disbelief and disgust. So naturally, the kindly shopkeeps had to stop displaying the QR code. I'm glad they stopped if this was how people were responding; I don't want to be bad for business.

But all the same… I have no idea how it is the case that so few people understand that the way your story ends is going to affect everyone here whose circumstances are similar to yours. It will affect how many of us will be able to believe that recovery is possible. It will affect how many of us will be able to believe that we are worth the effort involved with recovery. It will affect whether or not other people will be able to imagine that people like me and like others who I love are worthy of kindness, mercy, and help.

The way stories are told in my world shapes what people believe is and is not possible, on a MASS SCALE. Part of the reason why people still believe places like India are undeveloped, backwater places even though they're not is because that's how they're portrayed in stories in my world. Part of the reason why people still treat certain kinds of people as they do is because of how they're portrayed in books, movies, TV, comics, and song. Stereotypes persist in part because they are parroted over and over again by the song, art, and story that exists in our world. And stereotypes put a lot of nasty and totally arbitrary limitations on what people think that certain kinds of people deserve and are capable of.

So… my efforts to save you aren't just about you. My efforts are for every human in my world who is considered "different" or "fallen" in any way. Because we are not going to see peace in my world until every single one of us stops believing that there is a such thing as "kinds of people who are not worth compassion, kindness, decency, or help".

I want to live in a world where people can begin to imagine that even the most deeply fallen can get the help they need to rise up into wholeness again. Because if not even someone as amazing as you can be saved, what chance in hell do the rest of us have?

I ended up spiraling, though. Not because the kindly shopkeep took down the QR code, but because of what he said to me after the fact:

Some time ago, when I was working on one of the music boxes I made for you…

youtube

…there was a lady who came into the shop for the first time, asking what is good. The shopkeep told her a few things, and then went off to do something. I was excited to talk to someone who seems nice about a thing I loved, so I piped in with a couple of the things I like, and with a couple of things that weren't listed on the menu. She then asked about what I was doing, which was punching holes out on the music box. I asked her if she wanted to listen, and she said yes. So I ran the music box, and she told me that it was cool.

…Fast forward to today. The shopkeep told me that the lady knew it was my petition. Apparently, on the day we met, the lady found me weird, rude, and repulsive. She apparently thought that it was disrespectful of me that I spoke to her at all (apparently because "she wasn't talking to me"), and because she didn't actually want anything to do with my music box, but asked about it and said yes to listening to it anyway because she "didn't want to be mean". So I guess I left such a negative and intensely strange impression on her back then that when she felt disgust at the petition, she immediately knew it was mine.

And gosh, what a thing to have to sit with. Can you imagine it? The notion that I can frighten, anger, and disgust people just by existing in a space, talking joyfully about bubble tea, and showing a music box I made to someone who asked about it? I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to take from this. On the one hand, I have the shopkeep telling me that the woman thought I am a bad, wrong, and disgusting thing, but in the same breath, he is telling me that "she should have said no if she didn't want to hear it", and "you are kind and you don't bother anybody and you should just be yourself". I understand, of course, that he must ride a careful balance between customers so that he doesn't lose anyone. But ya know… the notion that perhaps I might cause them to struggle by scaring customers off just by being myself is just… wow.

Of course, I am not at all angry with him for this. Rather, I'm glad he told me. I'm glad to be made aware that my presence makes others feel very uncomfortable. I'm glad to be told that I should continue to be myself… even if it comes with the unspoken implication that I had better go do it somewhere else where no one else has to deal with it, I guess.

The fact remains, of course, that just by existing, I scare people. Even if what I'm trying to do is exude love and joy, I still scare people. And I'm not really sure how it is that I manage to be so bad at trying to do good things that I am misunderstood to this extent, but… well. And also this is coming right after I resolve to act as though I belong in this world even though all signs point to the notion that I… don't. And maybe never will.

…If unaliving is a trigger for you, you might wanna skip this paragraph. But… ya know. I spent a good chunk of time today considering the merits of lying down in a cold puddle, forcibly inducing sleep, and letting the hypothermia take care of the job while I'm out. We have nature trails just a five minute walk from my house. It's winter, and there are lots of big puddles back there; I know where they are, and there's also no shortage of ravens, crows, coyotes, and foxes to feed. It's probably good that I don't have ready access to the kinds of medicines that would induce sleep.

…But. This sort of thinking is just the old wiring and the old conditioning rearing its ugly head in response to my past trauma. Old messages that go something like, "Nobody fucking asked you to speak, MAGGOT," and "Why can't you have normal interests and hobbies, you embarrassing sicko freak?" At this point, because stuff similar to this has been said to me so many times, it doesn't take much for my brain to interpret this stuff, even if it's not said directly. That's just how PTSD is. That's how it works.

But I don't have to surrender to it. I got knocked on my ass today from it, but I don't have to stay on the ground. I can get back up and see what's next. I can use REBT. I can ask the people around me for help. I can listen as the people who love me gently point out destructive, spiraling patterns in my thinking, so that I can stop myself for long enough to come up for air. I can hydrate and eat wholesomely so that my brain can have what it needs to manage the destructive thoughts and the painful emotions triggered from them. I don't have to remain on my knees and believe every nasty thing said about me by someone who is too miserable to see the beauty, joy, and love being offered to them for what it is. I can refuse to allow the voices of the people who don't understand me to be louder in my mind than the voices of those who love me.

I am different from other people, and sometimes this is a lonely thing that hurts very much. But it's easy for me to have love for others who are different. Love for you. Love for Frankenstein's Monster. Love for Mewtwo. Love for Magus. Love for all of my friends and chosen family, who themselves are misfits that society at large does not seem to want. I still love them all, even though society tells me I shouldn't. I can love me, too, even though society tells me that I shouldn't.

…"Conventional wisdom" is such a thing. There are some very good things about it, like, "Sticking a fork in your mouth and then sticking the prongs of that fork into an electrical socket just to see what happens is a very bad idea." And, things like, "Do NOT, under ANY circumstances, attempt to eat Rice Krispie Treats immediately after taking them out of the oven if you value the flesh on the inside of your mouth." Or, "Do not squirt hot glue into the palm of your left hand for the sake of impressing a girl." Or, related, "You cannot try to scrape hot glue off of the palm of your hand with your other hand and expect it to turn out well." And finally, "Try to avoid prioritizing yelling at your glue-covered hands over making use of the cold water in the sink that is immediately to your left."

(do not worry - these are not things that I have done; I've met some very interesting people in the course of my living who help me to avoid finding these things out the hard way, hahaha!)

But it can also tell us a lot of very false things. Things like, "You must remain connected with your family regardless of how they abuse you." Things like, "You should expect certain kinds of people to always act in this certain kind of way." Things like, "These particular kinds of people are all bad and you should stay away from them." Things like, "If everyone is 'mistreating' you, well the common denominator is you, so the problem must be you and not how others are treating you." And things like, "Certain kinds of people do not deserve kindness, help, or even basic decency."

So… I can only conclude that "conventional wisdom" needs to be taken VERY critically, and with ALL the grains of salt. But I think a good rule of thumb for evaluation is this notion: "Anything that is said with cruel, dehumanizing, and unloving intentions is false."

I'm not at risk of prematurely exiting my meat-mech, don't worry. I just tripped up a little today, that's all. And you know what? Ultimately, that's a good thing, because today, I watched myself get back up on my feet from it faster than what I was able to do previously. Sometimes we can't see all the progress we've made until weird things happen and we find ourselves recovering from them faster than we have in the past. So in this sense, even falling down is worth something!

I'm gonna get a snack and play some DDR to try to speed up my recovery even more. So I'll end this here-ish.

Hey, Sephiroth!! No matter how many times you fall down, and no matter how far you fall down, you can get back up! You just gotta let the voices attached to the hands reaching out to help be louder than the voices trying to tell you that you're a monster who doesn't belong! No matter how many voices scream unloving things at you, you gotta understand that such things can only be screamed at us from a place of pain, and nobody is acting in accordance with what's true or in accordance with their innermost nature when they are acting from a place of pain! So let the loving things be louder to your mind and to your ears. Let the loving things be louder, and let them spur you on to move forward, confident in the knowledge that you belong here, no matter what anyone else says.

You are loved. Please stay safe. I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

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kudouusagi · 26 days

Note

Would you say that Bucchigiri is Utsumi's sophomore slump (coming off of SK8)? I was hoping for so much from this one, and yet it seemed like she and Taku Kishimoto were making so many wrong decisions here during its production. MAPPA's influence probably didn't help matters either.

Well, according to Utsumi from the Spoon 2.di article I read, she didn't really know what to make with this one so it was kind of a group project. She really wanted to make SK8 and she asked for pretty much all the staff that worked with her on it personally. It was very much a passion project for her.

For this one this one she said she was already making SK8 and didn't know what to make when they asked her to make another original series, so she discussed it with the producers at MAPPA and they all agreed on a yanki show, and then it took them a long time to decide on the Arabian Nights theme after that. She suggested a few different ideas and the other producers decided they liked the Arabian Nights theme best. She was assigned Kishimoto to be the writer, but she hadn't met him before. Things like that.

Here's something from the interview with Kishimoto in Spoon 2.di 107

Q: Kishimoto-san, it seems that you initially proposed a bit cooler story but Utsumi-san asked you to add some comedy to it. How did you feel when you heard that request? A: If I had to say, I've had a lot more work reorganizing and rearranging the structure of manga to adapt it into an anime. I'm not the type of person who naturally has a lot of stories and characters bubbling out of me, so when I make things I unconsciously drift toward making formulaic stories of cool heroes who always win. When I do that though, the characters I make are very stereotypical, and so when I submitted the first draft to director Utsumi and MAPPA's Otsuka-san, they said "The flow of the story is good, but the characters feel really stereotypical." It was then I was asked, "What were you like when you were Arajin's age?" I wasn't good-looking, so I figured if I just directly confessed to a girl I liked I'd be rejected, and so I thought I had to try even harder than other people. I'd give girls poems, and if that didn't work I'd carve the girl's name into a stone and give it to them, and I made it my goal in life to make that girl love me. So I told them I really couldn't be used as a reference for anything. But when I said that, they said "That's so interesting!" I felt like someone like that could never be a main character, or rather, I had ruled it out because I felt like it would be crazy to have a main character who acted like that! Since I was rejected for being so creepy in real life, after all (lol). But the two of them said it was interesting, so Arajin's weird parts became my weird parts and by adding my weird parts into him, it naturally became a comedy. So, rather than trying to write a comedy or making it become a comedy, I just added my own silly parts in order to give the character a personality, and it ended up developing into that because of the character's personality.

So the whole reason Arajin is who he is (someone everyone hates lol....) is because he's based off Kishimoto himself. I don't know what the story was like before but I really can't agree the flow of the story is good now... but yeah.... that's how we ended up here.

#bucchigiri?!

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spinningbuster98 · 3 months

Video

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Castlevania Symphony of the Night Part 4: Nocturne in the Moonlight

Up until now I’ve been singing this game’s praises and, to be fair, I will continue to do so in future videos. However I believe the time has come for the other shoe to drop so to speak and ask a very simple yet tricky question:

Is this a Castlevania game?

Some may think this question to be stupid but others may understand what I’m getting at here

Sotn marks a major departure from what had previously been established in this series. Keyword being MAJOR

Nowadays we live in an era when popular game franchises are applying drastic changes to their formulas, often taking elements from other more popular series, in other to gain more appeal. Zelda and Sonic have gone open world, God of War has gone The Last of Us with RPG mechanics etc

And honestly? Sotn is not different in this regard

This game not only has barely anything in common with the previous ones but it’s also their complete opposite in many ways

Gameplay wise? The classic games were linear, level based, tough as nails and gave you limited movement and resources that you had to make the most of

Sotn is non-linear, it’s one big map, it’s FAR easier and it gives you a ridiculous amount of movement options and items, 90% of which you’re never even gonna use

Story wise the Classics were very simple, Sotn and onwards will try to be more story focused (well relatively speaking) and melodramatic. Some future stories also jump the shark according to some fans but we’ll get to those in the future

Even its artstyle! I love Kojima’s artwork don’t get me wrong, ESPECIALLY her work in this game which I think is her strongest, but I absolutely hate it when people talk about her as if she was the one responsible for creating the series’ visual identity, as if the previous games had no art directions

I know people joke about Conan the Belmont Simon but...that was the series’ artstyle! Gothic, drawing a lot from classic horror but with super macho barbarian men dressed like He Man! We only chuckle at them now because Kojima’s bishonen artsyle replaced them. And no: I am not bitching about “muh yassification of muh manly men” or anything like that, mine is an issue of visual identity: the series literally flipped the switch from one extreme to another

Some poeple may say that at least narrative continuity is kept with the previous entries but that’s not fully true either, as this game retcons Alucard and Dracula’s backstories in order to introduce the stuff with Lisa, when both characters already had a backstory as told by the japanese manual of Castlevania 3! And yeah I do prefer the version introduced in this game, as I feel it creates at the very least more narrative contrast between Alucard and his father, for them to draw their opposite resolves from the same tragic events. But the point is: rather than trying to fit into the established canon, this game’s story forces its way into it by erasing the parts that don’t suit it

For as beloved as this game is, there are quite a few fans who despise it, everything it stands for and everything that followed it, considering it Castlevania in name only, something that killed the actual series and then went around wearing its skin

And honestly?

These people are...not exactly wrong

At least when other series change, even drastically, you can usually tell that their later games are supposed to be part of said series. Yeah Frontiers is a BOTW knockoff, but it still fundementally plays like a boost game, a formula that, while divisive, still derives its most basic idea from the general concept of “hedgehog goes fast and busts up robots” of the first few games. Yeah BOTW has alienated lots of old Zelda fans due to its hyper focus on open world design vs actual dungeons, but at least said open world structure had already been contemplated in a way by the past titles, not to mention many other gameplay mechanics from older games, like lock on and sword fighting, are still being used

If you take away the ability to get hearts from destroyed candles and the classic subweapons that is it. Gameplay wise it’s got nothing else in common with what came before and for that alone I can’t say that the people who hate this game are unjustified, not to mention that it’s got flaws of its own even ignoring any identity issue, though more on that at a later time

I, however, am not one of them

Let me ask you another question: if this game is not Castlevania...then what exactly is it?

Because, to go back to the earlier comparisons, games nowadays (hell ALWAYS if we’re being honest here, remember all the Sonic knockoffs in the 90s?) tend to quite clearly chase trends and you feel it when they’re just chasing trends because they tend to just adopt elements from what is hot and popular at the moment without actually doing anything truly unique with it

I can’t quite say the same about Sotn

Oh sure it quite clearly uses Super Metroid’s design philosophy as an inspiration, and the devs themselves have stated that Zelda was also an influence (and of course Simon’s quest), but it doesn’t just stop at emulating that formula

Keep in mind that back then there was no Metroidvania genre, there weren’t a million indie games taking a crack at the style, there was only Metroid, which had 3 games and wasn’t super popular. That formula had been established by only 3 games and by a generally strict set of features. Sotn was the very first game to look at Metroid’s general design philosophy and decide to do its own spin on it

Because to say that Sotn is just a Super Metroid clone and little else would be untrue I believe, as the two games, despite their similarities, play very differently

Metroid has a greater focus on mobility and acrobatics, on speedrunning and long-distance shoot em up combat

Sotn has rpg mechanics, close quarters combat using swords, spells and features transformations as a way of getting around fast

Yes there are clear similarities but it’s sort of like comparing Mario and Sonic: the latter was very clearly inspired by the former as they both are in the same genre, and since Mario defined platformers as we know them today, it’s inevitable that Sonic would take plenty of cues from him, but to say that Sonic plays the same as Mario just because he adopts those same base gameplay mechanics that the plumber introduced is untrue

Does this mean that it’s unjustified to criticize the game for how different it is? No. What I’m saying is that I don’t believe Sotn to be a simple case of just shamelessly ripping off another series. It has certainly shed its previous identity in an unceremonious way and that is absolutely a problem, but in the process it also created for itself a new identity that, while not for everyone, is absolutely its own and no one else’s, complete with its own set of positives and negatives, just like the Classic games before it (because yes people: Classicvanias also had issues, which is something that I generally don’t see people talk about a lot, probably because the discourse tends to boil down to “old game bad”, but maybe for another time...). If you wanted to play a Metroidvania game back in the 2000s your options were limited to either Metroid or Castlevania, and there were good tangible reasons to play one or the other. There is a reason why Sotn is considered the forefather of the genre alongside Super Metroid: one founded the formula, the other showed that it was flexible. Of course I have to admit that I’m a bit biased, since I already love Metroid’s core formula so Sotn’s style naturally appeals to me, but generally I’m someone who tries to look at the positive aspects of a game, even when it doesn’t necessarily respect its roots, as I believe that if something is good and fun, at least to me and my tastes, then it doesn’t deserve to get thrown in the trash on principle. But I can totally understand those who don’t think themselves, I myself have my limits on this as well

So to answer the question: no Sotn is not a Castlevania game. But it’s also a Castlevania game, just one that is its own thing that is unique

If you ask me most of this issue boils down to Konami deciding to focus exclusively on this formula while completely ignoring the Classics. If they had tried to keep a sort of balance, to release games of both styles in tandem things would have probably been more balanced. But I suppose this just wouldn’t have ever happened in the 2000s, when short level based sidescrollers not named Mario were seen as old news

#youtube #akumajou dracula #castlevania symphony of the night #my gameplay

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merrivia · 11 months

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I’m curious about your reading experiences with CaPri, you seem as someone who understands the text so well! Could you share some of your experiences with the text? (When you first read it, how many times you’ve re-read it, do you annotate your copies, do you binge-read the trilogy in a week with each reread [like I do], do you have chapters you revisit a lot, etc.)

Hey, so I'm just going through a little backlog of asks!

I feel this is just a niche conversation between you and I tbh, but I'll answer haha. Feel free to directly message me in the future, I'm so open to conversations about the book.

Thank you for saying you think I understand the text so well! That's really kind.

I first got the books on my kindle on the 17th Feb and just binge read them all the way through. I got really fixated on them instantly and.... read them all the way through again, literally straight after. There was something about the way Pacat writes that really hit the spot for me.

I'll be honest though, I tried the book before ages ago (maybe 5 or 6 years ago?) and I was immediately turned off.

What changed? I think because I got into (a different) fandom and started reading fan fiction. Before then I was a huge bookworm, and read everything- though I did lean very much towards literary fiction, the older I got. My many open tabs on AO3 slowly changed my parameters around what fics should look like, the moral framework of them, the spice factor if you will, and so on. Coming from the lawless land of fanfiction where all is allowed and nothing really censored, meant I could come to the text with much more of an open mind.

When I read the trilogy my brain just lit up immediately- the intensity of events, the depth of emotions, the wit and humour, the political machinations and military warfare, the love story...it all combined to make magic amongst my neurons.

My first meta was about a month later, as my brain was 24/7 CaPri brain rot, and I read it another time all the way through, still on kindle.

Then I got The Summer Palace and finally bought all the books in paperback as well. And re-read the books in paperback! So since February I've read them four times. This is when I started to slow down haha.

I don't use tabs or make notes. I tended to just binge read, but do have a job so that meant pausing while at work. I don't necessarily go back and re-visit chapters unless I want to write a meta.

I think re-reading the text is enormously helpful, as reading it the first time is like a sensorial rush of emotion, and the second or third time you can really pay attention to structure and language and character development. Pacat leaves much unsaid and to be deciphered, a 'negative space' as she's called it in interviews, where we have to see what it not being said or what we aren't being directly told and figure things out.

Fandom is an interesting place, and as someone who approaches metas on the text as sort of experiment in literary analysis, I do find it interesting the way people's opinions on the text seem so disparate or different from mine. There are some very strong-minded people on tumblr, and I've seen different camps of people re-read things according to their biases, in different ways. I would perhaps call some of them (not all, but some...) misreadings, also. And regardless, they tend to try and strong-arm you into agreeing with them! I mean, I'm sure I exhibit biases too, but I hope that the least I do is pay attention, try to think things through carefully and come with evidence! And respect true differences of opinion. All I can say is looping back to the source material is important, but ultimately reading and decoding a text can be very personal.

As a final note, I would also say, I came to the books after years and years of intense reading across lots of different genres, and if anyone wanted to get into writing meta for specific texts, reading and thinking widely is an important foundation for that imo.

Hope that answered your question!

#captive prince #thanks for the ask!#sorry if this is of no interest to anyone else lol

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churutu · 4 months

Text

The Science Behind Great Storytelling

(Photo by Pereanu Sebastian on Unsplash)

Why do you write?

There’s probably no easy, straightforward answer to such a question. Some people write to express themselves, some to share their stories or opinions, some to inspire other people, some to educate, some even find it therapeutic. It’s a question that has both no answer and multiple, complex answers, all at once — we all write different things, for different reasons.

Nonetheless, whatever your why might be, there’s a common denominator among them all: As writers and story-tellers, we aim to transform our why into written words, in order to elicit a certain array of feelings and emotions in our readers.

What we write certainly plays a big role here, but in my humble opinion, how we write it is what makes the difference: The way you describe a murder can make the whole scene go from tragedy to comedy; the way the reader feels about a character depends on the words you use while presenting it; different punctuation can give completely different meanings to the same sentence. In other words, by learning how to write you are able to control what your audience feels while reading your work — this is why learning, experimenting, and practicing are crucial steps towards great writing and story-telling.

No surprises here, right? Everyone knows the more you write, the more you learn, and the more you learn, the better you write. It’s the well-known practice makes perfect cycle that has repeated itself throughout history and, paired with talent, has churned out some of the greatest writers of all time.

So, I could tell you to practice everyday, to read more, or to join a writing course. I could also tell you that Jane Austen’s literary style relies on a combination of parody, burlesque, irony, free indirect speech, and a degree of realism. I could tell you how Hemingway stood out from the crowd thanks to his concise, straightforward, and realistic style. If we wanted to get even more technical, I could also tell you that Shakespeare used a metrical pattern consisting of lines of unrhymed iambic pentameter, called blank verse — in short, I could tell you things you’d find in your English literature book, or things you’ve already been told a million times before.

But that’s not what I’m going to do. Instead, I’ll tell you about the science behind our readers’ emotions, the effect our words have on them while reading, and how to make them work for you:

The science

It’s all about neurotransmitters.

Technically speaking, a neurotransmitter is “a chemical substance which is released at the end of a nerve fibre by the arrival of a nerve impulse and, by diffusing across the synapse or junction, effects the transfer of the impulse to another nerve fibre, a muscle fibre, or some other structure.”

In simple English, neurotransmitters are chemical messengers: To keep it simple, all you really need to know is that external stimuli get them fired up, and according to which one is stimulated, a certain chemical is released inside your body, provoking a certain feeling or emotion.

Unfortunately, since there are way too many different kinds of neurotransmitters, we won’t be able to cover them all here. If you are interested in the topic you can grab yourself a copy of Marco Nigrini’s book “The Brain: A User’s Manual” — reading the book, I came to the conclusion that, when it comes to writing and story-telling, there are three main neurotransmitters that we can exploit: Dopamine, Oxytocin, and Endorphins.

The storytelling

It’s still, all about neurotransmitters.

Dopamine

As Nigrini puts it in his book, “dopamine is the superstar of neurotransmitters”. You have most likely heard about it at some point in your life, and for a good reason. Most people know it as the pleasure and reward hormone, because it plays a major role when it comes to experiencing happiness, our well-being and that rewarding feeling we get after doing certain things — take social media for example: Instagram likes, Facebook messages, and Twitter retweets all stimulate the release of dopamine in our brain, which is why they all become so addictive.

For us, as writers and story-tellers, the addictive properties of dopamine are perfect if we want to keep our readers glued to our work. So the logical question now, would be how do we do it?

Suspense and expectation. These two elements alone are enough to flood your readers’ neural highways with dopamine, and get them hooked to your story — creating shorter sentences, revealing vital information that the characters don’t yet know, and building anticipation, are all simple yet effective ways to accomplish this.

Oxytocin

As writers, specially when it comes to fiction, we want our readers to fall in love with our story and our characters, we want them to bond with us and our work — this is where oxytocin steals the spotlight.

To give you an example of what exactly is this neurotransmitter’s role, imagine a mother and her newborn. As we all know, the bond between the two of them is pretty much unbreakable, but why is this? In part, it’s because of oxytocin — while nursing her newborn, oxytocin is released in large amounts, thus creating a sentiment of generosity and trust between the mother and the baby.

For obvious reasons, we can’t rely on nursing our readers, so we have to stick to the next best thing: In order to stimulate the release of oxytocin in our reader’s brain, we need to create empathic characters or narrate touching stories.

Endorphins

Chocolate and sex both release endorphins — this should give you at least a vague idea of the role they play in our body. To clear up what it is they actually do though, just know that, much like dopamine, these neurotransmitters have a massive impact on your feelings of well-being, and this is what we should take advantage of: If we give our readers a more immersive reading experience, while making them feel more at ease, comfortable, and relaxed (which are all effects that endorphins have on our body), chances are they will enjoy whatever it is we put in front of them.

The good news? Stimulating the release of endorphins in our readers is way easier than you’d think — just make them laugh.

Conclusion? As with every other aspect of life, the way we experience reading massively depends on the way our brain perceives and processes information. If we, as writers, are able to understand the mechanism behind it, we can get one step closer to mastering our craft.

So remember, use science and neurotransmitters to your advantage, and develop your writing according to the feelings and emotions you want your story to elicit in your readers.

#science #writing #article #information #people #neurotransmitters #dopamine #oxytocin #creativity #creator #writer #psychology #write #science backed #endorphins #storytelling #story #telling

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caesarflickermans · 6 months

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As someone who has read The Hunger Games trilogy, what lessons you can take from it?

Mockingjay deals with rebellion of the Districts toward the Capitol.

What lessons can we apply to current world affairs?

Thank you.

@curiousnonny

I’ve thought about this question a lot, because I’ve taken so many lessons from THG with me, and the book keeps giving me new insight in different parts of my life. As I’m currently mastering in political science, it would be hard amiss to not talk about this from a political perspective.

The Hunger Games is a story about inequality

The Capitol and the Districts are a metaphor on our world relations with one another. I find it disastrous not to read the story as such; we are the Capitol. Even if we might not be well off, it is vital to recall that it is us who are harvesting the majority of the resources, who are creating the climate disasters that are largely affecting other countries, and we are living in countries where our politicians and our companies are making decisions to the detriment of others.

As much as we might emphasise with Katniss and her journey, we aren’t Katniss. It’s vital to remember that the empathy we have for this main character ought to extend to little kids starving from hunger, dying in wars, and working for our products.

Our world is so systematic and so complex that there is often little we can do to truly move to change, but that ought not to stop us.

That said, it is easy and almost Capitol-esque to get hung up on current conflicts. This week it will be Palestine. Last week it was Ukraine. The week before that was Afghanistan. The way our news circle is spinning, we are often moving from one heart-wrenching conflict to another, one worse than the one beforehand.

But The Hunger Games asks us to see the bigger picture. A world that has dealt with heart-wrenching Games and deaths one year after the other forces us to look at the bigger picture: We are challenged to look at the systematic aspects to the pain that is repeatedly being caused. The answer isn’t to make life better for Katniss and Peeta—or even the people of District 12—but for all of Panem.

And in a similar aspect, we are tasked to look at the world’s inequalities and must ask the questions not how to prevent one next Hunger Games, but how to prevent them in general. How can we look at the world from its structural level and move it to a better place? This is the difference between rockets and a Camp David accords.

The Hunger Games is a story about war

This series does not shy away from the brutality of war. Collins could have picked anyone. Truth be told, for a whole encompassing perspective on the changing world of Panem, anyone would have been a better pick than Katniss.

But Katniss’ story is not one to offer us how forces are moving and how war itself functions. Katniss’ story is to learn about what it feels like to be at war—and be at war as a child! Many of us readers will never experience our homes being bombed or a resistance movement fighting the good fight against our oppressive governments (most of us are fortunate enough to live in democracy).

Katniss is meant to show us how destructive war can be to a person.

We aren’t given the typical hero figure that wants to show us and the world what a good fighter she is. Katniss cares deeply about the people around her, and she doesn’t have much reason to afford caring for broad concepts such as “a whole civilisation”. She’s here for her sister, and she’s left with deep traumatic wounds that do not heal; because that’s how life works.

I’m on yet another read-through of Mockingjay, and I think we are seeing just how much soft power (that is, not tanks and weapons and people on the field fighting, but rather persuasive tactics) matter to wars.

And it’s important especially for teenagers to see. So often we reduce wars to tanks and manpower and who won with what battlefield strategy. But wars are about so much more, and we see those effects in real life. We see how groups are fighting about the ultimate authority on interpreting a conflict; pictures, newspaper headlines, videos. Stories are being told to all those who aren’t on the front lines to position themselves. And The Hunger Games is telling us exactly how vital this is, and that wars can be won with those tactics.

The Hunger Games is a story about totalitarianism

As someone whose country’s history has been shaped so strongly by past influences of totalitarianism, I find it necessary and important for readers to see The Hunger Games as a totalitarian state.

To prevent fascists from rising, we need to know how they act. And The Hunger Games is showing us warning signs in the same way that classics in the genre did.

It is not without reason that North Korean defectors have found similarities in this series, which is why I find the books such an essential read to recognise those tactics and attitudes before it is too late.

To paint an example; Hannah Arendt spoke about the separation of person with themselves and the others. Katniss experiences this repeatedly throughout the trilogy, starting with the disinterest of others to help her or the lack of compassion for siblings being reaped.

People fear, and that’s why it is hard to step over the line of what their state forbids them to do. And many others are very, very comfortable in the place they are in: The Merchants rarely need to worry about the reaping, because the Seam is there. The Careers rarely need to worry about death, because the other Districts are weak. The lower class of the Capitol never need to worry about their life, because the Districts have it so much worse.

As someone who has been fortunate enough that my country reckons with its past, I have learned early about even the changing public dialogue that a country can slip into as early warning signals of rising totalitarian control. But it’s important that everyone is able to recognise the systems for what it is, and to do everything possible to prevent that.

The Hunger Games is a story meant to call you into action

As I’ve already alluded to in all of those points, The Hunger Games leaves you with all of this information and plenty of action to take up on.

It is meant to get you politically educated and curious about the world. And, ideally, you will find a cause that is worthwhile to stand up for. I’ve found that throughout my life, there is only so much doomscrolling one can do in the name of remaining informed. What, to me, is so much more worthwhile is picking a cause and sticking with it.

The Hunger Games teaches us that we cannot singlehandedly change the world; Katniss was the revolutionary to a web of people who had been ready to put her in this place.

Instead, we need to recognise activism in the small ways, just as Katniss had done many small things that led to a bigger change. Pick a cause that interests you and help out. Clean your rivers, demonstrate for your cause, join activist organisations, help out at a homeless shelter.

The world is an overwhelming place with a plethora of problems. You can care a little about all of them and feel saddened that you couldn’t have the time and energy to change them all. Or you can pick one, care passionately about it, and achieve change.

#thg meta #thg #the hunger games #curiousnonny #katniss everdeen #inbox #anon

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honeyymistt · 6 months

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hi honey! it’s so good to see you again 🫶🏻

i have a bit of a situation and I’d love any words of wisdom from you if you’re willing.

so two years ago, I met someone and quickly developed a crush on her. a few months after we met, I confessed to her and she said that she didn’t think she had feelings for me and that she would like to remain friends. I was totally fine with that, so the next year was fine. she went abroad for school the year later.

now she’s back and we are co-running a dance club at school together so we are spending a lot of time working together. we have a bunch of mutual friends now so every so often she comes over to my apartment since she’s friends with all of my roommates too. we eat meals together and talk a lot and we make each other laugh.

long story (relatively) short, my feelings for her have returned and multiplied by like a million. I say “returned” like they left but I’m not sure if they ever did honestly. anyway I feel like confessing to her again wouldn’t be the best move, but I feel like, in both the best and worst possible way, I’m going to EXPLODE!!! I’ve been thinking about so many things lately and how me and her are running out of time (we are both graduating in the spring) and I think that sense of urgency is contributing to my want to do something about this.

I can’t know exactly how she feels because I am not inside her brain. all I know is that when anyone mentions love or the future, I automatically and unconsciously picture her. it’s a little pathetic tbh. but I’ve accepted the strength of my feelings and I need a way to express them or at least control them. I guess I’m writing to you for any advice you may have regarding this.

tldr: too much love. not enough time or ability to express.

sorry for the super long message but I’m not sure what to do. thank you so much :) hope you’re doing well

hi lovey!! thank you, it’s so nice to be back <3

this is a such a sweet message. so many people would love to be talked about the way you talk about her. she’s a lucky girl!!!! i always think that clear communication is the way to go. these feelings are a LOT to handle, and if pouring your heart out to her is going to make you feel better then i think, why not? if you don’t think that she feels the same way, you’ll obviously have to structure your confession as just that - a confession. but if you have a feeling that maybe she likes you back, then you could explain it and see if she can confirm it or clear it up. like you mentioned at the end, “too much love. not enough time or ability to express.” i think communication can do wonders for this situation. if she likes you back, then yay!! go on a date!! if she doesn’t, then you move on with acceptance because you did all you could do.

you could always say something along the lines of i know that i already told you this a year ago but i still have feelings for you. i feel like you deserve to know because we hang out so often and because we’re running the club together. i respect if you don’t feel the same way and i want you to know that i’m not going to jeopardize the club or drag in mutual friends. if you don’t feel the same way, i understand and i won’t act on it. i really admire you and i just need to let you know to get it off my chest. (you can adjust this according to how you guys talk to each other and add more details to explain yourself)

i don’t want to say this because it might give you false hope but this is just something to keep in mind. feelings can change. and i say this for both your feelings, and hers. my boyfriend and i went on a date last year and nothing came out of it. we went on a date almost a year later (a few months ago) and it was completely different and we’re dating now. people change, circumstances change and feelings change. just remember that!!

i think that everyone deserves to feel love and confessing could get you closer to that - love with her, or love with someone else. regardless, the choice is entirely yours and i trust that you’ll make the right decision. i can tell that you have a heart of gold, my sweet anon. i am sending you courage and support!!!! i’d love to know what you decide to do and what the outcome is. my inbox will remain open and i’ll always be here. <3

#chat with honeyymistt

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 8 months

Text

Here are some of the NextUp streams I’ve seen from the 2023 Edinburgh Fringe Festival. A few of the other ones I’ve written about in their own posts, but these are getting grouped together, as they’re all people doing their debut Fringe hour (doesn’t necessarily mean they’re new to comedy, just the first time they’ve performed a solo show at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival), and I hadn’t heard of any of them before this month.

I decided to watch them to make it like I was actually at a festival, and at a festival, I’ll always see some stuff I didn’t previously know, and some will be good and some will be bad but horizons will be broadened. I picked these particular people for a few reasons. A couple of them came recommended, by a couple of people I know and by some comedy awards that put them on the Newcomer long list. And besides that, I read the show descriptions for most of the comedians I hadn’t heard of who were getting their Edinburgh shows streamed on NextUp, and I watched the ones that didn’t appear to be mainly about dating in your 20s and/or 30s and/or 40s. Or being married in any of those years. Or being single but wanting to find romantic love in any of those years. Not unless it looked like a really interesting story. Not that a comedy show about those things can never be good. Plenty are good. But there are too many of them, and it’s just not a topic that often resonates with me (some exceptions, obviously, some exceptions, Rose Matafeo and Josie Long off the top of my head).

So here’s what I decided to watch:

Alexandra Haddow – Not My Finest Hour

This one immediately breaks my criteria a little, it is a story of a romantic relationship. But it’s a relationship that took place quite a few years ago, and it is very much not an advertisement for relationships. Technically it’s more of a breakup show than a relationship show, and on the whole, I tend to prefer those.

I enjoyed this one. She had a lot of smart stuff to say about youth and culture and class-based socialization and regional differences and societal norms and expectations, and how fucked up it is when successful powerful older men cheat on their wives with significantly younger women. She also had a lot of good jokes. She also had a really engaging stage presence and ability to keep being interesting on any topic. And what more can we ask for from a comedy show?

Tadiwa Mahlunge – Inhibition Exhibition

This one felt more specifically like a “debut hour”, because he kept talking about his day job that he’d been doing for a long time, how he didn’t have the class privilege to commit full time to comedy, he was clearly not an experienced Fringe Festival veteran. But he was, overall, quite funny. The show wasn’t nearly as tightly structured as the previous one, it was a lot of bits that sometimes vaguely connected and sometimes didn’t, but there were a few running themes. Class, race, the importance of family, growing up as the child of immigrants. And he dealt with these subjects with no reverence and very little sentimentality; it’s not really an emotional “this is how hard it is to grow up in a refugee family” story, but it is his life story, told by a guy whose life involved growing up in a refugee family. It’s funny, he’s ridiculously charismatic, and there are some messages and shit in there as well. Just good stuff all over the board.

Ikechukwu Ufomadu – Amusements

Here’s what I like about this one: it’s officially classed as absurdist comedy, but it requires absolutely no effort on my part to accept something that’s difficult for me to get because it’s obviously outside my usual wheelhouse. By which I mean, it’s just one person with a microphone, saying words into it. All of those words connect to the previous word and the previous sentence, in ways that I can understand according to the rules of the English language as I know them. No costumes. No props (aside from a projector screen that’s used sparingly and effectively). No physical stuff. There are sort of a couple of songs near the end. But even they are just one guy singing into a microphone, and the way he moves into them makes sense. Yet, it is still absurdist comedy and I still get to credit myself with having watched and enjoyed a type of comedy outside the styles that I normally hear.

It's really hard to explain, I barely know how I can. But it was fucking funny. I laughed out loud multiple times. It isn’t structured. There’s no theme, no moral, nothing like that. He moves from one topic to another, and none of the topics make sense, and that is the joke, but they’re still funny. He talks about letters and numbers and questions and songs. He recites Shakespeare. He comes off as ridiculously cool and in control, and almost never breaks – only very rarely cracks himself up just the tiniest bit, enough to humanize him and that helps. I really enjoyed this, but I cannot for the life of me figure out how to explain it.

I just Googled it to see if anyone else has explained it, and The Guardian went with: “The fashion is for fringe newcomers to deliver solo shows all about themselves: potted autobiographies big on identity and self-assertion. By the end of Ikechukwu Ufomadu's debut, by contrast, we haven't the faintest idea who he is.” Yeah, I’d say that’s as good a description as any. He’s American, by the way, so while it is his debut Fringe show, I think he has been doing comedy for quite a while, just not in Scotland. He certainly seemed to be experienced and confident.

Bronwyn Sweeney – Off Brand

I’ll be honest – I picked this show based on what I thought the premise would be when I read the blurb, and then I turned out to be wrong. The blurb said: “In her debut hour, Funny Women finalist Bronwyn teaches audiences how to build their own personal brand in four easy steps.” So I thought it would be a character comedian, doing a parody of a brand expert teaching people how to brand themselves. And I thought that sounded good. Not incredibly original, I know. But I work with teenagers, and I see how many people are out there uncritically believing that they’re meant to do the corporations’ work for them by commodifying themselves into marketable brands, and I think that’s horrifying enough to warrant all the parody marketing gurus there are and more. I think we should be talking way more often about how fucked up that is, and if someone wants to start with some sketch comedy about it, then at least that’s something.

…I turned out to be wrong. It wasn’t a character show. Bronwyn Sweeney is a comedian who actually did used to work in advertising, and actually did, as herself, explain to the audience how to create a good brand. Which seems like a mildly horrifying premise, but it wasn’t as bad as that sentence makes it sound. The branding thing was just a conceit that helped her structure her “story of my life” debut Edinburgh show, and she used each of the four steps to personal branding as a jumping off point to talk about a different part of her life.

So at least it wasn’t a genuine attempt to encourage branding (though she did say repeatedly that she loves the concept of branding, and I’m fairly sure that was meant to be ironic, but I’m not sure she made the irony clear enough to justify it). But it was, unfortunately, a fairly boringly run-of-the-mill “story of my life” Edinburgh hour that I got tricked into watching because I thought it would have a different premise. It was fine. There was some mildly interesting stuff in there. Very little of it was funny. But to be fair, I don’t think I’m her target audience. People who like the same stuff she does would probably enjoy it more than I did.

Avital Ash – Avital Ash Workshops Her Suicide Note

This was another American, so her lack of Fringe experience doesn’t necessarily mean a lack of comedy experience, just a lack of time spent crossing an ocean for it. And that really shows. She handled some tough subjects really well. The title’s not a joke or anything, workshopping a suicide note really is the central conceit of the show (I mean, obviously it’s a joke in the sense that she is not literally planning to make this her suicide note, but she does say she genuinely struggles with suicidal desires, and has thought about what she’d write in the note, and then she spends the show discussing options).

This is one of the darkest comedy shows I’ve ever seen, but it manages to get quite a high laugh rate despite that. It goes into a bunch of rough topics (I guess this is rather spoiler-y so maybe don’t read if you think you might actually watch the show, I guess I get spoiler-y on this blog all the time without warnings, I should maybe think about spoilers more often than I do, I tend to write with the assumption that anyone reading this has either already seen it or isn’t planning to see it), like growing up in an extremely restrictive conservative religious community, the death of one parent and mistreatment by others, secrets and lies, severe mental health problems including suicide, being a woman and a queer person and experiencing sexual assault amid a repressive misogynistic religious environment. And she manages to make all of it funny. Not constantly, there are some truly harrowing bits where she doesn’t add punchlines because that would be fucked up. But to be honest, there are other bits where adding a punchline would be fucked up but she adds it anyway. This show will upset you (and by “you” I mean “me”) and make you laugh, and it will do both those things so close together, sometimes in the same line.

That’s how I can tell this person is experienced in comedy writing, even if not in Edinburgh performing. Most people would try to make this show work but it would end up just being trauma dumping, not entertainment. And that could still be good, it’s a story worth telling whether it makes people laugh or not. But Avital Ash manages to get all the trauma in there, and be consistently funny, but not in a way that takes away from the emotional impact. None of the jokes undercut the seriousness of the rest of the subject matter, or make light of it. They do the opposite – they make it darker and heavier. It’s a difficult watch but a strong show.

Mamoun Elagab – Why I Love White People

This one was certainly less heavy than the previous one, and it ended with a part where he just explained that he didn’t structure it very well, which was quite self-aware. I think what he said at the end was very accurate, which is that this has some elements of a great show, but needs some work before it becomes that. He did say he plans to work on it and bring it back next year better than ever, and I’d love to hear the updated version.

Having said that, there was lots of entertaining stuff in this version. It was another “stories of my life”-type show, not a particularly straightforward or coherent autobiography, just whatever he thinks of. But there were some throughlines about his parents that I think did have a lot in them, if he works a bit on hitting those harder.

He also had some stuff to say about race and class, but also stuff about how he doesn’t want to be known as the “race and class” comedian just because he’s black and named Mamoun Elagab, and maybe he just wants to be whimsical like James Acaster. He did have several digs at the comedy industry in general (no named comedians besides that, and it wasn’t even a dig at James Acaster, he presented it as saying he genuinely admires Acaster’s comedy and would like to do that shit, but doesn’t love that it’s a lot easier for someone who looks like James Acaster to get audiences to expect whimsey from him than it is for someone who looks like Mamoun Elagab), this one felt very “debut Fringe hour”-y, in that he’d clearly been playing clubs and stuff for a while, was just starting to try to make a transition to a bigger comedy career, and finding that difficult so decided to turn complaints about it’s difficult into material. Which is a good idea, because some of that was funny material.

Every time I write a list like this, the first few items on it get way less explanation than the later ones, because at first I tell myself it'll just be a quick list, and I get more and more into explaining things as I go along. I'll cut that off now. Watching new comedy is interesting. It isn't always amazing, but sometimes it is, and I enjoy the process.

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billconrad · 1 month

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Try Not to Write Like Hemingway

A friend of mine recently told me they wanted to write a fictional book and wanted to pick my bonkers mind for ideas. I answered her questions, and one stuck out, “Should I read a bunch of Ernest Hemingway books to write like him?” I told my friend not to pattern themself after other writers, and I thought it would be interesting to explain my opinion.

Talented authors like Emily Dickinson, Charles Dickens, and William Shakespeare have a style and storytelling ability that define the literature benchmark. Writers should be well-versed in famous books to learn about character development, descriptions, plot structure, and flow. However, I think it is a huge mistake to copy their writing style.

The problem is twofold. First, readers know these works and copycat books are not appreciated. Second, master authors are called masters for a reason. Only 0.001% of us have that writing ability, and attempting to write like a master is a recipe for failure.

Instead, I recommend reading a variety of books from many authors. This list must include bad authors (we prefer to be called up-and-coming). Their books contain flawed stories, dismal characters, no flow, flimsy descriptions, grammmmar, and awful dialog.

Why? Poorly written books are a tremendous resource because beginning writers can think about solving apparent problems. This book dissection is a fun activity, and it is also reinforcing. “Hey, if I can spot this problem, maybe my writing is alright.”

Let me provide an example. I met a fellow author through Facebook who asked me to critique his first book. It is a spiritual awakening autobiography like The Razor’s Edge. (If you have not seen the 1946 movie, I recommend it. The 1984 remake is so-so.) From the first page, there were many problems.

When I provided feedback, I recall focusing on one sentence, “I gave a speech on the topic.” Ok… Where did this speech take place? How many people were there? What was their reaction? This lack of description was so big that a bus could have driven through it. When reading a book like The Grapes of Wrath, spotting glaring mistakes is impossible.

Yet, I know I have not convinced you, so I want to focus on the Hemingway book, The Old Man and the Sea. “I want to write a book just like that.” Alright, a similar plot is not out of the realm of possibilities. Let’s tweak the base story. A female sheepherder deep in the mountains guards her flock. Suddenly, a wolf attacks, and they battle to the death. The book contains epic scenes, grand descriptions, and powerful emotions. The result would be very similar to The Old Man and the Sea.

What would critics think? “Weak plot, but good writing.” Why? Now, with powerful AI tools, excellent editors, and grammar checkers, the minimum benchmark is a well-written book. Readers now expect bold and unique plots to rise above the latest TikTok cat videos. Does this make The Old Man and the Sea obsolete because the plot is dated? I prefer to consider it a high-quality writing benchmark but concede the base story no longer holds up.

Why? Today, the old man could have called his friends or the Coast Guard over a cell phone or radio to rescue him. Who cares about a silly fishing story? According to YouTube, you can buy fish at the grocery store. This classic has a slow pace, and today’s readers travel at the speed of the internet. But what if the writing goal was a slow-paced book? Such books have a limited market.

Let me attack this from a different angle. A new author is a huge Tom Clancy fan who wants to write a similar novel. The problem is that readers are not static. They want fresh plots that rise above the noise. “I wrote a spy novel exactly like The Hunt for Red October” is not a recommended read. “I wrote a spy novel better than Tom Clancy’s best works” is an annoying boast. “I wrote a spy novel with dragons.” Dragons? Really? I might have to check that out.

You’re the best -Bill

March 20, 2024

Hey, book lovers, I published four. Please check them out:

Interviewing Immortality. A dramatic first-person psychological thriller that weaves a tale of intrigue, suspense, and self-confrontation.

Pushed to the Edge of Survival. A drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

Cable Ties. A slow-burn political thriller that reflects the realities of modern intelligence, law enforcement, department cooperation, and international politics.

Saving Immortality. Continuing in the first-person psychological thriller genre, James Kimble searches for his former captor to answer his life’s questions.

These books are available in softcover on Amazon and in eBook format everywhere.

#writing #books #classic books

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reasoningdaily · 6 months

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Black women shouldn’t have to die to give life, but too many of us do. According to the CDC, in 2021, Black maternal women died at a rate of 69.9 per 100,000 live births, nearly three times the rate for white women. The statistics are alarming when compared to maternal mortality rates in high-wealth nations like Australia, Austria, Israel, Japan, and Spain which all hovered between 2 and 3 deaths per 100,000 in 2020, according to data from the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development. The numbers show that the United States is pulling up the rear on maternal health in general and Black maternal health specifically.

“If you have a planned pregnancy, are always welcomed, society is happy to see you and supportive of your existence, you will live a relatively decent life; maybe not rich but you can have a good life,” Dr. Latanya Hines, MD, assistant clinical professor of obstetrics for Kaiser School of Medicine, Bernard J. Tyson and Charles R. Drew School of Medicine, tells SheKnows. “This is not true for African Americans.”