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nim-lock · 3 years

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Art Career Tips, 2021 Edition

Here’s an edited version of my 2019 answered ask, because... this feels relevant.

It is a problem of capitalism that folks equate their income as a judgement of their value as people; and let me preface. You are worth so much. You have inherent value in this world. Your income is not a judgement on who you are (plenty of billionaires are actively making the world worse). LARPing self-confidence will go a long way to helping you get paid more for your work, because clients will believe that you know what you are doing, and are a professional.

& real quick—my own background is that I’ve been living off my art since 2018. I went to art school (Pratt Institute). I work in a publishing/educational materials sphere, and a quarter of my income is my shop. Not all of this information may apply to you, so it is up to you to look through everything with a critical eye, and spot pick what is relevant.

So there are multiple ways of getting income as an artist;

Working freelance or full-time on projects

Selling your stuff on a shop

Licensing (charging other companies to use your designs)

This post primarily covers the freelance part; if you’re interested in the other bits there is absolutely info out there on the internet.

IF you are just starting (skip to next section if not applicable) dream big, draw often (practice helps you get better/more efficient), do your best to take "a bad piece” lightly. You’re gonna RNG this shit. At some point your rate of “good” works will get higher. Watch tutorial videos & read books. A base understanding of “the rules”; anatomy, perspective, composition, color helps you know what the rules are to break them. This adds sophistication to your work. One way you can learn this stuff is by doing “studies”—you’re picking apart things from life, or things other people have done, to see what works, and how it works.

Trying to turn your interests into a viable career means that you are now a SMALL BUSINESS; it really helps to learn some basic marketing, graphic design, figure out how to write polite customer service emails; etc. You can learn some of this by looking it up, or taking skillshare (not sponsored) classes by qualified folks. Eventually some people may get agents to take care of this for them—however, I do recommend y’all get a basic understanding of what it takes to do it on your own, just so you can know if your agent is doing a good job.

Making sure your portfolio fits the work you want to get

Here is a beginner portfolio post.

Research the field you’d like to get into. The amount people work, the time commitment, the process of making the thing, the companies & people who work for them.

Create work that could fit in to the industry you’re breaking into. For example, if you want to do book cover illustration, you draw a bunch of mockup book covers, that can either be stuff you make up, or redesigns of existing books. If you’re not 100% sure what sort of work is needed for the industry, loop back into the portfolios of artists in a similar line of work as whatever you’re interested in, and analyze the things they have in common. If something looks to be a common project (like a sequence of action images for storyboard artists), then it’s probably something useful for the job.

CLIENTS HIRE BASED ON HOW WELL THEY THINK YOUR WORK FITS WHAT THEY WANT. If they’re hiring for picture books, they’re gonna want to see picture book art in your portfolio, otherwise they may not want to risk hiring you. Doesn’t have to be 100% the project, but stuff similar enough. If you aren’t hired, it doesn’t mean your work is bad, it just wasn’t the right fit for that specific client.

If you have many interests, make a different section of your portfolio for each!

Making sure you’re relevant

Have a social media that’s a little more public-facing, and follow people in the career field you’re interested in. Fellow artists, art directors, editors, social media managers; whoever. Post on your own schedule.

Interact with their posts every so often, in a non-creepy way.

If you’ve made any contacts, great! Email these artists, art directors, editors, former professors, etc occasional updates on your work to stay in touch AND make sure that they think about you every so often.

Show up to general art events every once in a while! If you keep showing up to ones in your area (when... not dying from a sneeze is a thing), folks will eventually start to remember you.

Industry events & conferences can be pricey, so attend/save up for what makes sense for you. Industry meetups are important for networking in person! In addition to meeting people with hiring power, you also connect with your peers in the community. Always bring a portfolio & hand out business cards like candy.

Active job hunting

Apply to job postings online.

If interested in working with specific people at specific companies, you could send an email “I’d love to work with you, here’s my portfolio/relevant experience”, even if they aren’t actively looking for new hires. Be concise, and include a link to your work AND attached images so the person reading the email can get a quick preview before clicking for more.

Twitter job postings can be pretty underpaid! Get a copy of the Graphic Artists’ Guild Handbook Pricing & Ethical Guidelines to know your rate. I once had a twitter post job listing email me back saying that other illustrators were charging less, and I quote, “primarily because they’re less experienced and looking for their first commission”. This was not okay! For reference, this was a 64-illustration book. The industry rate of a children’s book (~36 pages) is $10k+, and this company’s budget was apparently $1k. For all of it.

Congrats you got a job! Now what?

Ask for like, 10% more than they initially offer and see if they say yes. If they do, great! If not, and the price is still OK, great! Often company budgets are slightly higher than they first tell you, and if you get this extra secret money, all the better for you.

Make sure you sign a contract and the terms aren’t terrible (re: GO GET THE Graphic Artists’ Guild Handbook Pricing & Ethical Guidelines)

Be pleasant and easy to work with (Think ‘do no harm but take no shit’)

Communicate with them as much as needed! If something’s going to be late, tell them as soon as you know so they aren’t left wondering or worse, reaching out to ask what’s up.

And if all goes well, they’ll contact you about more jobs down the line, or refer you to other folks who may need an artist, etc.

Quick note about online shops/licensing and why they’re so good

It’s work that you do once, that you continuously make money off of. Different products do well in different situations (conventions vs. online, and then further, based on how you market/the specific groups you are marketing to), so products that may not do well initially may get a surge later on.

Start with things that have low minimum order quantity and are relatively cheap to produce, like prints and stickers.

If you are not breaking even, go back to some of the earlier portions of this and think about how you could tweak things as a small business. Ease of access is also very important with this; for example, if you only take orders through direct messages, that immediately shuts off all customers who don’t like talking to strangers.

Quick resource that you could look through; it’s the spreadsheet of project organizing that I made a while back

Licensing is when people pay you for the right to use your work on stuff they need to make, like textbooks or greeting cards. This is generally work you’ve already made that they are paying the right to use for a specified time or limited run of products. This is great because you’ve already done the work. I am not the expert on this. Go find someone else’s info.

“I am not physically capable of working much”/ “I need to pay the bills”

Guess who got a hand injury Sept 2020 that messed me up that entire month! I had a couple jobs going at the time that I was terrified of losing, but they were quite understanding when I told them I needed to heal. So: Express your needs as early as you know you need them. Also do lots of stretches and rest your hands whenever you feel anything off; this will save your health later. Like, the potential of a couple months of no income was preferable over losing use of my hands for the rest of my life.

This continues to apply if you have any other life situation. Ask for extra time. Ask for clarification. If you tell people ahead of time, folks are often quite understanding. Know how much you are capable of working and do your best not to overdo it. (I am.. bad at this)

Do what MAKES SENSE for your situation. If doing art currently earns you less money than organizing spreadsheets, then do that for now, and whenever you have the energy, break down some of the tips above into actionable tiny chunks, and slowly work at em.

The original ask I got in 2019 mentioned ‘knowing you’re not good enough yet’. Most artists experience imposter syndrome & self-doubt—the important thing is to do your best, and if anything, attempt to channel the confidence of a mediocre white man. If he can apply to this job/charge hella money for Not Much, then so can you!

Check out this Art Director tumblr for more advice!

Danichuatico’s Literary Agent guide

Kikidoodle’s Shop Shipping Tutorial

Best of luck!

–

Once again disclaimer this post is just the ramblings of a man procrastinating on other things that need to be done. I’ve Long Posted my own post so that it turns into mush in my brain if I try to read it, but I wrote this so I should know this content. If you got down here, congrats. Here’s a shrimp drawing.

Yee Ha.

My reference post tag My tip jar

#reference #artist information #UHHHHH I don't know man

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salemwritesxx · 3 years

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lycoris radiata

↳ pro-hero bakugou x pro-hero reader

summary: The myth around red spider lilies, lycoris radiata, is that, when you see someone you may never meet again, these flowers will bloom along the path. Thus, when Y/n and Katsuki depart on the morning of their 6th wedding anniversary to walk to their respective agencies and spider lilies bloom along the path Bakugou is walking on, Y/n gets an uneasy feeling, unaware that the legend surrounding these flowers may have a germ of truth to them after all.

w.count: 2k

content warning: angst, major character death, which leads to reader committing suicide, afterlife happy ending

“Okay, hey-“, you grinned and pulled him back one last time to peck his lips, “-don’t forget our rendezvous tonight, yeah?”, to which Bakugou only rolled his eyes – in a playful way though as he immediately pressed a soft kiss onto your mouth once more, not caring that you two stood in the middle of the streets.

“Don’t worry, I won’t forget.”, and with that, you finally let your husband go, though as he walked away from you, you couldn’t help but witness red spider lilies blooming along the pathway, hence you yelled after him, “Babe? Be careful, okay?”

“Ha?”, when he turned around and you pointed to the flowers, Katsuki only laughed and gestured a ‘whatever’ and saying a “Don’t be so superstitious, Y/n. It’s just a myth!”

Even though you both chuckled as he turned around and walked away for real this time, you still felt a slight uneasy feeling in your stomach, though you simply thought it was because you were excited to celebrate your 6th wedding anniversary with your husband.

“KATSUKI!”

You screamed as if you were the one being impaled, your knees were shaking, feeling like the ground was opening up underneath your feet and you fell into a dark, black hole any second.

Coughing up blood, he was hanging on the villain’s arm which was weirdly transformed to look like a lance – Bakugou hadn’t seen it coming, if he would have, he…

“Pathetic.”, the villain almost spit into his face before dropping him onto the pavement like some sort of trash, only to jump back immediately when other heroes already attacked him again.

You were rushing to your husband’s side who was coughing up more and more blood while squirming in pain, his “Y- Y/- Y/n…” being interrupted by his coughs, though you were already dropping to your knees to hold him.

“It’s okay, Baby, I’m here. Everything’s gonna be okay! Don’t worry, everything will be okay!”, you cried and sobbed, tears already streaming down your face while pressing him against your side and one hand against his wound where the villain impaled him.

Bakugou knew though. It’s why he was clawing at your hand so much, both of them soaked with his blood that just wouldn’t stop – he knew he wasn’t going to be okay. As he almost couldn’t speak anymore, because his lungs filled with more and more blood, he still grasped your hands as tightly as he could, smearing his own blood all over your arm in an attempt to stay.

“Y/n-“, gasping for breath, he was almost completely over the bridge as his tight grip slowly softened.

“I love you, Baby. I love you so much! Katsuki please, don’t go!”, not being able to suppress your desperate sobs, you barely choked out a “Please.” again as his grip loosened more and more around your own hand.

“I … love… y..o…u…”, were his last words, a single tear trickling down his cheek as his ruby eyes lost that sparkle you fell in love with the very first time you looked into them.

“Katsu… No….Kat… Nononono please! PLEASE!”, literally begging him to not go, you hugged his bloody, heavy body so close against your chest while you cried, not caring about the explosions from further back into the streets as other heroes still fought against the villains, while rescue heroes only gradually managed to get through the wrecked buildings.

You shouldn’t even be here. Bakugou and you had been in two different agencies, it only should have been a calm day at your respective work places, wanting to be done quickly so you could enjoy your wedding anniversary tonight, but then, all available heroes were called up when the villain went on a rampage.

How…? How did it turn out like that? A harmless villain turned out to be so strong? How… could have anyone guess that? How could have anyone seen that coming?

So, it was true. Walking along a path where red spider lilies bloomed meant you wouldn’t see each other again…

Rescue heroes tried to calm you down and get you to let go of Katsuki’s lifeless body, but you just yelled at them, your voice high-pitched and so full of pain, and cried and held him tighter, not caring that you were full of his blood as you still couldn’t process that this wasn’t a dream, but it was reality… Harsh reality.

Your husband was dead.

And with that, your soul and heart shattered into million little pieces, unable to be whole ever again.

-------6 weeks later--------

You sat in front of Katsuki’s grave.

It was a cold spring night, though to be honest, you hadn’t been warm in the last weeks ever since that accident – the coldness you felt was never going to leave ever again.

Your fingers were softly playing your guitar. Making music had always brought peace to your husband’s mind, whenever he felt angry, frustrated, anxious or any other negative feeling, he would flop beside you and make you play the guitar for him. It calmed him and sometimes, you would both sing crookedly to get him back into a better mood – very fond memories indeed.

Tears were blurring your vision, even though you shouldn’t have been able to cry anymore with how many tears you had shed in the last weeks, but it still felt surreal. Knowing he was never going to come back again – never.

Slowly, your fingers stopped as you stared onto his gravestone. There were red spider lilies planted around – how ironic. Though they weren’t blooming as it was now spring.

Was is really just superstition? Or should you have been warned that day? That uneasy feeling you had felt - it wasn’t excitement, it was a sense of foreboding, and you had ignored it…

Putting your guitar, that had stickers with his hero name and your own, as well as stupid little things like a dick doodle on it, to the side, you sighed and rubbed your red, swollen eyes. You did have this guitar since your middle school days after all. And you remembered when all these things happened oh so vividly. Still hearing the giggle and laughter of your, back then in high school, boyfriend, while you yelled at him for being an idiot. Being angry over a dick doodle seemed so petty now.

Taking your permanent marker, you opened the cap with your teeth, before leaning in and doodling a broken heart onto the surface with the date of your husband’s dying day on it. Spitting out the lid of the marker, you put the pen onto your guitar, before staring back at Bakugou’s grave.

“Please tell me.. Who should be my soulmate now? Who will hold my hand while I drive? Who will hold me when I can’t sleep at night? There is nobody like you out there, Baby…. so please tell me…”, you were crying again as you sobbed and rubbed over your face, “Tell me, who could possibly take your place? My first and last love. I won’t be able to do anything without you…”

Your heart was hurting so much, you couldn’t take it. You knew he was irreplaceable, there was no one out there that could ever give you what he gave you all those past years.

Bakugou was sitting beside you, though you didn’t know – of course you didn’t, was he a mere spirit now, never leaving your side as his translucent hand touched your own.

“Please, you need to go on. Don’t do it…”, tears were in the corner of his eyes, wishing he could talk to you, wishing you could hear his desperate attempts to keep you from committing suicide. Katsuki loved you, he wanted to be with you, but he couldn’t be selfish anymore – you couldn’t throw everything away just because of him.

Though, as he was a mere ghost sitting beside you, he couldn’t do anything but watch.

With a shaking hand you then reached for the gun you had purchased today on the black market – to think, at last, you were doing illegal stuff even though you were a hero – before coming here and sitting in front of his grave for hours. You couldn’t possibly be alive without him beside you. It just hurt too much. You didn’t care about anything, you had no one besides him. Katsuki was your everything and all you wanted to do was finally meet him again.

Sobbing quietly, you then held the end of the gun against your temple, your e/c still staring at his gravestone, before you whispered one last time, “I want to meet you again. Please. I miss you so much.”

“I promise, I’ll be there.”, Katsuki whispered.

For the first time in weeks, there was warmth surrounding your heart and with a smile you barely mumbled “I know you’re waiting for me.”

And then, a loud bang echoed through the silent night and the cemetery, cherry blossom petals, that were in full bloom now, swaying in the wind and slowly falling down and onto your lifeless body.

“Y/n…Y/n…”, the familiar voice made you gradually open your eyes – above you, it was an ocean of pink and white cherry blossoms. But then, as you looked further back, you saw directly into Katsuki’s face, his smile making you feel so warm and fuzzy instantly. It was in that moment you realized your head was resting in his lap.

“Katsu…”

“You should have lived a long, happy life…”, his voice was so soothing and calm as he combed through your hair, though you just shook your head, tears already welling up in your eyes.

“I was already dead inside the moment you were gone.”, and then, you finally sat back up to connect your lips, Bakugou immediately slinging his arms around your neck and pulling you in closer as you both fell back into a pile of cherry blossoms.

“I love you. I love you so much. And now we’re together again.”, you whispered against his lips, lacing your fingers together and Katsuki squeezing your hand tightly, the sparkle in his ruby eyes back as tears shimmered in them as well.

“And we will never be apart again.”, he barely mumbled back, before you hugged each other tightly as your lips melted together tenderly.

Katsuki and you were sitting on the gravestone together, it was the day your lifeless body joined Katsuki’s in the shared grave. Watching your family and Katsuki’s once more crying so much, it really did break your heart.

“I wish they wouldn’t have to go through that again.”, he said and sighed, though also squeezing your hand tightly.

“Mh… But it was inevitable… I know they know that, too…”, since you and Mitsuki were quite close, she, of course, knew how badly Katsuki’s death affected you, even though she tried to help, the moment you were alone, you knew you couldn’t take the loss of someone so precious to you.

“Y/n… I know your pain was immense… I just hope you are both happy now wherever you are…”, Mitsuki quietly cried as she stood in front of the grave with your coffin in it, joining Katsuki’s, Masaru holding her close by his side, both of them a red spider lily in their hands that weren’t blooming.

Looking at each other for a moment, you both stood up from the gravestone and walked towards his parents, softly touching the flower, making them bloom in their hands.

“Let’s go. We are free now. Let’s see the world - together.”, Bakugou smiled and you chuckled and nodded, “Yeah.”, only to pull him closer and softly kiss him and whisper, “Together forever.”, which earned you Katsuki’s soft giggle and him pulling you closer to connect your lips once more.

Mitsuki and Masaru were both completely astonished when the red spider lilies in their hands started blooming, as if it was your answer to their question if you were both happy now, making Katsuki’s Mom smile and cry a little harder.

Though, once she looked ahead, she thought it was probably because she was sleep-deprived and in so much emotional pain, but… she saw you and Katsuki holding onto and smiling at each other. His mind must be playing tricks on her and yet, it was bittersweet to witness you two like that…

“They are happy…”, she wiped away her tears and with a smile on her lips, Mitsuki threw the blooming spider lilies into the grave eventually, knowing that her son and son-in-law were now happily dancing in the cherry blossom trees.

@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

writer’s note: ya boy literally chickened out the last minute and made it a somewhat happy ending instead of leaving it sad… idk i kind of just want them to find their happiness again in their afterlives 💌 my first idea was to make Y/n sing his heart out on like a roof and then jump, then I wanted him to sing his heart out in front of katsu’s grave and in the end, we just have some soft guitar play and a gun… but while I listen to the song I had playing on repeat while writing this, I still imagine Y/n singing loudly for his Baby and grieving terribly 💔

#salemswriting.#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x male reader #bnha x male reader #bakugou x you #bakugou angst

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starryse · 4 years

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Café of Hell- Literally

Kim Taehyung Demon! Au

Genre: fluff, angst, humor, fantasy, demons

Group: BTS (Taehyung)

Pairing: Demon!Taehyun X female! reader

~~~~~~**~~~~~**~~~~~~**~~~~~~**~~~~~ ~~~~~~**~~~~~

For the past 3 months you’ve been working at the coffee shop near your university, which luckily for you, was only a few minutes away. The tips were always generous and the customers were polite, even if you messed up their order. Sure it was a minimum wage job that didn’t exactly allow you to buy gucci, but it paid your student debts and kept the electric on in your small apartment down the street. Plus, you just happened to be favored by your boss and receive discounts on all coffee drinks, how good for you since most nights when you got home from school were spent cramming in study guides and chugging down the cold vanilla latte from that morning. And the same happened to go for you now, as you sat on your grey carpeted bedroom floor, iron-man socks clad to your sprawled out legs, highlighter clutched in your hand as notes were scratched across your sociology homework that just happened to be due first thing tomorrow. The clock seemed to speed up when you really needed it to stop just long enough to finish this and rush to the night shift at work. Night shifts weren’t rare for you, so to have to rush through your homework and scramble around to get ready were almost a normal thing in your apartment. As soon as you finished the question you had spent ages on, the playlist that was once on shuffle was shut off as you stuffed the papers into your bag by the messy bed that had all your notes and clothes clustered from the headboard, all the way to the bottom where you stood. Tossing the floral bag onto the havoc looking bed, you pulled the hair-tie off of your wrist, threading it around your disheveled hair away from your face. You puffed your cheeks out as a breath of air came out, taking in a single moment of silence before you continued to run around your apartment getting ready. The curtains that were originally tied up were now flowing down the window, and the pumpkin candle aroma that filled your cozy apartment started slowly dying down as the smoke from the flame took its place. After tossing your laptop into your bag and grabbing your phone off its charger, you quickly shuffled your away through the door, locking it in the process.“5 minutes to spare tonight, nice Y/N” You glanced down to the time on your phone, taking a quick break from rushing to work, knowing you finally had time to get to work unlike the previous days where time was just a figure of your imagination.. In other words, you were so late out the door your boss thought you died. Typically you would drive to work since it had been either highly cold or pouring outside, but today was different. You were actually on your way early this time and the weather was calm and breezy, unlike every other day in your life. The cream colored building came into your view as you rounded the corner of the cafe.

The bell chimed as you stepped into the shop, the smell of coffee and the warmth of the heaters immediately hitting you. Shrugging off your long coat that held past your knees, you were met with the familiar face of your boss.“Somethings wrong, you’re never here when you’re scheduled to be. Who died? Do I need to call animal control?” The older lady’s face was filled with concern, but the underlying smile was clearly visible as she took the coat of your arms and hung it up on the employees rack. You smiled at that, rolling your eyes at Miss Kim's way of playing around.“Actually yeah you should, I saw that creepy guy back out there hugging the lamp pole, he doesn’t seem to ferile to be around people” Jeongyeon spoke up behind the cashier as she poured the frothy coffee into the cup, passing it to her customer. You walked behind the counter, grabbing your apron and tying it around your waist, “And I think I saw him at the market the other day. I overheard him talking about the “scary black eyed people he saw coming out of the cafe” i’m slightly concerned for him” you snickered at your friends comment, walking over to the register starting to work as quickly as possible, “Dudes probably on drugs or something, maybe he had one of Miss.Kim’s special drinks as she calls them” Jeongyeon chuckled at that, grinning at the inside joke between the two of you, as she proceeded to clean out the machines.

A few hours passed as your shift came close to an end, the last customer had ordered their drink as you locked up the register for the night, with only the machines left to be shut down. Jeongyeon had left an hour ago, leaving just you and Miss.Kim in the dimly lit shop. You tugged of your apron, replacing your coat on the rack, and began to clean around the cafe before you made your way home. As you swept the coffee beans off the floors, a sigh came from behind you.“y/n, dear, I know you have an early class in the morning but you’re the only one I can rely on with this.” miss Kim began, as she walked around the counter to you, placing her coat over her shoulders and slipping her white gloves onto her hands, “I really have to get home to Insu, apparently even at 15 the boy can’t be left alone without getting into trouble” Kim looked up from buttoning her coat, swinging her purse onto her shoulder, “Anyways, would you be the sweetest angel and lock up the cafe for me? Just make sure the doors are locked and the files are put away and locked up, it should only take another hour ish I promise! I’ll add more money to your paycheck, and it’d really help me out.” The stammering lady finally stopped rambling as she glanced up to you in hopes you say yes.You force a smile onto your face as you peer down to the aging lady, “Of course, Miss Kim, as long as you get home safely to Insu!” you usher the frazzled woman to the door, making sure to keep the smile on your face.“Oh thank you y/n, you’re such a dear!” Miss Kim opened the fairy light framed door, as she began to rush to her small car in the parking lot.

You groaned, tugging out your ponytail, letting your hair cascade to your shoulders. The look of joy was nowhere near evident on your face, as the dark circles under your eyes seemed to be even more prominent. “Alright y/n, all you have to do is lock the doors and you can go. Then you can get home to your warm house with all your fluffy blankets. Let’s get this done.” You grabbed the keys to the file cabinet in the storage room, putting all of Kim’s important documents away into safe keeping in the locked room. As you walked out to the counters you heard the familiar rumbling sound from the world outside. You popped your head up, looking out the large windows in the shop, being met with the large drops of rain pouring down onto the pavement. Streaks of purple lightning could be seen hitting trees in the farther distance, signaling a storm was beginning. As if you hadn’t groaned a lot previously that day, you did it again just for shits and giggles. The frustration that was hidden in you was slowly bubbling up to the surface as the realization that you weren’t going to get home until even later that night set it. How fantastic. Before your luck went downhill like the rain, you remembered the sticker covered laptop you brought with you for break earlier that day. After making yourself a pumpkin chai latte, you settled in the booth against the corner of the moon lit cafe, pulling out your laptop and opening up the new drama you began a few days ago.

The previously filled cup was now halfway empty and becoming cold as you shifted against the cushioned bench, the rain pouring outside not seeming to let up. The clock on your laptop read 12:13 a.m. You had officially been there for another two hours than intended, and from the looks outside it was going to be even longer. Your eyes began to feel heavy as your focus on the drama was fading, drowsiness taking over you as it got later and later. A loud crash from the room behind you quickly awakend your senses, your eyes widening and head shooting up from its position against your laptops keyboard. Not knowing whether to get up and investigate or shrivel up in the corner like a coward, you froze in your spot, waiting for another sound or a figure to come out. This was not how you planned on going out, half asleep and huddled on a bench in your workplace at 12 am. Growing tired of waiting, you gained the courage to seek out the cause of the crash. You stood up from the bench, shutting your laptop quietly and slipping your shoes back on. You silently began to move over to the counters, scanning around the dark shop. The air was tense and the only sound that could be heard was the rain slamming against the walls of the cafe. Your body rounded the corner before your eyes could look past the wall, and the first thing your round eyes set on was the large shadowy figure standing over the coffee pot. A shriek left your drying mouth, as you scrambled away from the figure. The shadow visibly jumped back, dropping the coffee in the process.

“Ah damnit! Look what you made me do, I was excited to drink that!” A deep voice cut through the room, covering up the loud sound of you panting. “Wait a minute, what the hell are you doing here, you shouldn’t be here?!” The mysterious person turned towards your attention as you were splat against the beige wall, hands gripping onto the plant that was previously on the counter. The man sniggered as he looked over you, “what exactly do you think the little leafy plants going to do? Health me to death?” You looked down to the plant that was tightly pressed against your chest, then back up to the owner of the laugh. His eyes were set on you as you scanned over him. His hair was dark and ruffled against his forehead and his eyes seemed to have a vague glint to them as he smirked at you. His shoulders were wide as he stood tall against the counter, his dark jacket covering his broad chest. You made no sudden movements, rather you just continued to stare up at the man, as you fiddled with the plant in your grasp.

“Um okay. Well I’m Taehyung! What’s your name girl who planned on hitting me with a plant?” Taehyung extended his hand over the register, a rather boxy grin etching across his face. Fuck it. You reached out to shake the males hand, slightly smiling (honestly you just look frightened) at him, “y- y/n” The handsome guy shook your hand, locking eyes with you in the process.

“Cool cool, nice to meet you, I think, y/n. I’m just gonna make my coffee if you don’t mind.” Taehyung turned around, releasing your hand, and began to remake the drink you made him drop. Your mouth finally closed after hanging open, all form of moisture gone, Sahara desert maybe? After relishing in whatever just happened with the stranger, your senses finally kicked in.With a shake of your head, you stepped up from the wall and walked over to where the mysterious boy was making his coffee.

“How did you even get in here? I had those doors locked?!” You watched Taehyung pour his coffee into a travel mug, God knows where he found that, the coffee filling all the way to the top of the lid, the froth foaming over the edges of the cup. The white substance dripped onto the countertops, eventually slipping down the cabinets to the floor you JUST mopped.

“Dude cmon I JUST cleaned those floors, that took my pure labor man” you rolled your eyes at the boy who seemed to brush off the fact you just worked to make the floors spotless. Taehyung took a swig of his coffee before turning to face you, walking around the counters to where you were, sitting on top of the light grey counter top. The honey skinned man watched as you reached for a napkin from the nearby booth, wiping away the mess the latter had made. A toothy grin made its way onto his features, something about watching you poor humans work just made him all joyful inside.

After tossing the soaked coffee stained napkin into the trash bin, you scoffed at the sugar packets left around the coffee pot. Seriously, the dude was raised in the depths of Hell I swear, what decent human being doesn’t toss their garbage? The sweet sound of silence filled the air as you clean the rest of the strangers mess, the drowsiness you felt earlier completely discarded. Taehyung clears his throat, setting down his cup, “To answer your question, I got in through the floor. You humans and your pointless questions, how else do you think I’d get in if you locked the door? Do you expect me to crawl through the window, possibly getting my Versace jacket caught in the frame? So weird.” Taehyung sighed, leaning back on the counter, his hands pressing against the cool material. He pursed his head over his shoulder, dark strands of hair falling gently over his eyelashes, as he watched your face crumble with confusion. You uncrouch your knees from your spot in front of the trash bin, facing the weird boy to your left.

“Did you just say you came up through the floor? And I can float through walls too, right?” You boasted with your answer, walking back over to the bench you were in before the ruckus Taehyung caused. The devil himself kicked off the countertop, nearing his eyes at you,

“I don’t know CAN you? You don’t have to believe me, y/n, you shouldn’t even be here right now talking to me in the first place.” He scoffed, taking a seat on the chair opposite of you. You pulled a face at the arrogant man, “last time I checked you’re the one talking to me and I'M the one that works here, in reality I should’ve called the cops ages ago.” Taehyung scowled in your direction, his tone lowering (if that was even possible with this dudes voice dayum) “Call the cops, I really want to see how that works out for you, human.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, rubbing your cheeks afterwords, distaste was evident across your expression. “Human? You’re a human too, dumbass. Seriously what’s wrong with you, you’re the one that came in here, made a mess, and now you’re acting as if you have the rig to be an ass? Bitch please, eat a snickers.” Regaining his composure, Taehyung slouched back in his chair, realizing that arguing with this girl wasn’t even worth his precious time. He had an eternity to live, why spend it arguing with a mere human girl he’ll never see again once the gates open. Taehyung hummed in response, craning his head around to look out the window. The rain was falling down as hard as ever, and the lightning has not ceased up since you last checked it, before you were jolted up from Taehyungs presence.

“It looks like the rain isn’t going to stop anytime soon, why don’t we play this civil until one of us leaves, hm?l Taehyung glances over at you, his eyebrows raising slightly waiting for your response. Your lips pursed together as you sucked on your lip, your baby pink vans tapping against the table leg. As you thought about what Taehying said, your leg still pressing against the table leg every so often, the sudden grip against your ankle causing you to blink up in surprise. “I said to be civil, I didn’t think that meant kicking my leg with your foot every 20 seconds.” You pulled your leg from Taehyungs hand, tucking it behind your other leg in front of you, your cheeks flushing the same color as your shoes.

“Sorry it’s a habit. But yeah cool civil I can do that whatever.” You rested your chin on your palm, leaning against the table. The two of you sat in silence listening to the rain drop against the roof of the café. As the night progressed and the storm carried on, the temperatures lowered to much colder weather than earlier, causing the chilly breeze from the howling wind outside to seep through the cracks in the shops door. The cold current snuck to the table, right along your arms, causing you to shiver and wrap your arms around yourself for some warmth. You stood up from the spot you were glued to the last half hour, brushing the hair away from your eyes. “I’m gonna go turn up the thermostat, I’m unfortunately not cold blooded so I’m getting chilly. Do you need another coffee or whatever it is you drink?” Taehyung peered through the crack in his arms from resting his head on the table, looking up to you. A quiet yeah sure could just be heard from the mumble the yawning boy let out. Your feet threaded across the icey floor boards, you being extra thankful you decided to wear the thick Christians socks your mom bought you, today. After making Taehyung his drink, you set off to the back room to turn up the thermostat, there was no way you were letting miss Kim find you as popsicle stuck to her bench tomorrow. Flicking on the light switch to the room, you immediately dropped the freshly made coffee straight to the floor in front of you, the liquid seeping through the grey carpet instantly.

“TAEHYUNG” the name left your mouth before you could even process it, you, meanwhile, stashing yourself away behind the desk chair by the door. The heavy footsteps of the person behind the name came faster than you thought when you were met with the owner of it stopping in front of the desk. Taehyung’s eyes brightened instantly seeing the cause of your distress, that same boxy grin etched across his face, “about time, they waited long enough this time!” glancing back and forth between the two things, you gawked at what just happened.

“Taehyung” you slowly got up from behind the chair, standing behind the door, “why in the hELL IS THERE A HUGE ASS HOLE IN THE MIDDLE OF MY BOSS’S OFFICE” Taehyung simply turned to look at you over his shoulder, his jackets zipper rattling, “that, my dear y/n, is my ticket home” your eyebrows knitted together though your mouth stayed hung open. “Talk soon, babe.” And with that, the boys golden eyes turned a dark hue as he waved his hand at you before diving into the bright hole on the ground. As you stood there in confusion as to what happened, the hole began shrinking, the bright light it cascades slowly fading, until there was nothing left but the coffee stain you spilt into Miss Kim’s office floor.

“What in the actual fuck just happened.”

~~~~~~**~~~~~**~~~~~~**~~~~~~**~~~~~ ~~~~~~**~~~~~

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writersrealmbts · 5 years

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Protect Them-Hybrid AU: Part 9

Description: Safe with Me Sequel! You work two days a week teaching kids the joys of learning and reading, your favorites being the triplets. When the triplet’s adopted older brother is the one that starts picking them up, you’re not sure what life just handed you but you’re pretty sure it’s just another little slice of heaven. Hoseok x Reader.

Warnings: I don’t even know, if you do, let me know and I’ll change the warnings.

Posted: 02/24/2019

Tags: Hybrid!au, hybrid!Hoseok, Safe With Me Sequel

Angst with fluffs: 2,496 words

A/N: Happy Part Nine! I’m weak and I’m posting early because I got responses to the quick census. I think you’ll be happy with the next part, which I will likely post on Wednesday!

“It’s likely you had a complex-partial seizure,” The doctor said, smiling kindly. “I’ve looked at your file, and it’s possible given the damage caused to your brain in the accident. Your doctor even listed it here as something he was concerned about as a side effect. You’re lucky, you could have had a grand mal seizure. You’re normally on these medications, since the accident anyway?” He set a list in front of you. You read over it and nodded. A seizure. Of course. It made sense now. You had trained to help kids who had seizures as part of your first aid certification and now that the doctor said it all of the symptoms made sense. “This one is to suppress nerve pain, and is also used for people with epilepsy. It’s likely taking this prevented you from showing symptoms earlier. Or that you had similar seizures before and were unaware that they occurred. I’ve sent down these prescriptions for you, given the circumstances you’re in, and you should be able to pick them up on your way out at the pharmacy on the first floor.” “But she’s okay?” Hoseok asked. “I’d have to run more tests, but considering the seizure lasted under five minutes, I think she’s fine. We’ll get her back on her medication and hopefully that keeps them from happening again.” “Thank you,” You murmured. You were exhausted. “No problem. Get your prescriptions, get home, get some rest. Both of you. Kids, would you like stickers?” All three perked up, tails wagging excitedly, thanking him when they got their stickers. It was dark out when you pulled up to the summer house. Thankfully, your seizure had ended in the store, and you had insisted on checking out before going to the walk-in clinic (the closest thing the town had to a hospital). Hoseok had stopped and gotten pizzas for dinner because there was no way either of you were cooking. You had to direct Hoseok where to find the key in the treehouse from the ground, guessing more than anything, but he eventually found it and you all entered the house you used to come to every summer. It was nicer than you remembered, and looked like the interior had been remodeled in the past few years. “It’s nice,” Hoseok said, looking around. “Alright, first things first, get the kiddos set with some dinner. Y/n, you sit and eat too. I can handle bringing things in and making beds if you get them into pajamas.” “Deal.” You helped him put slices of pizza on plates for the kids and yourself, then sat with them at the table in the breakfast nook to eat while they ate. Minsu and Kaemon picked the pepperoni off, and Kae gave his to his brother. Nari ate like normal. Then after Minsu finished his piece of pizza, he ate the pepperoni. You got them into their pajamas with very little fuss, and managed to take a shower and change into your own pajamas, only needing Hoseok’s help to get the brace back on (while he ranted about how you could have hurt yourself). He then insisted on blow-drying your hair, at least partially. You then helped him tuck the kids in. They had all fallen asleep with Minsu in the end, an hour earlier than their actual bedtime. Then Hoseok carried you into one of the other bedrooms and tucked you in, seeing that your medicine was kicking in. But you would swear that you felt him kiss your forehead before he left. The first day at the summer house the kids were blissfully unaware of the trouble surrounding their trip to this magical place. They loved that they could play in the shallow waters, and Minsu had caught about five frogs by now, and all three of them adored the treehouse. Three days in the summer house had passed with relatively little to worry you or cause problems. Except Hoseok, but he was an eternal problem that you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to fix. He seemed hyper aware of you now, checking on you periodically, making sure you were okay, but even when you were perfectly fine and it showed—as you played with the kids happily—he seemed to have this look in his eyes that haunted you late at night. It was the fourth day at the summer house that you walked down to the corner market and got a paper, seeing the headlines. The lady who owned the market sent her twelve-year-old daughter to get Hoseok for you. “What happened? Did you have a seizure?” He asked the moment he entered the store, the truck parked outside the doors. You handed him the paper, a lump in your throat. “It’s over.” He frowned and read over the paper, confused about why you would be so upset, until he finished reading the title of the article. He inhaled sharply. “Your sister.” “Guess she really did change,” You choked out. He hugged you close, tight. “She was protecting you. She died to protect you.” “We should get back. The kids.” “Yeah,” He agreed simply, picking you up and carrying you to the car while you protested weakly. “Don’t deprive me of one of my few pleasures in life.” You snorted, but didn’t argue any further. You didn’t know how you felt, other than conflicted. On one hand, you could literally only count the nice things she’d done for you on that one hand. On the other, she was your sister. Your family. You powered your phone on, and texted Emma the address. An hour later, the triplets were screeching with joy, throwing themselves into their parents arms and being adoringly smothered by said parents. Four hours later and all of you were back at Emma and Jin’s, the kids running to Jimin, Jungkook, and three hybrid men you didn’t know, one of which had a very young toddler in his arms. Hoseok stuck beside you the whole time. It was in the evening that you and Emma were talking, Hoseok gone from your side. “She was working for the organization that was against us, the one that broke that vile thing out of jail. But she leaked all the information that they needed to take everyone down. She’s a hero. But that doesn’t mean that what she did to you in the past can be forgotten,” Emma said thoughtfully. “Some scars run deep.” You sighed shakily. “She was finally reaching out, honestly and good-naturedly. And now I won’t ever be able to find out if she really wanted to be in my life again. I won’t be able to replace the litany of terrible memories that she’s left in my mind with good ones. I think that’s honestly more upsetting to me. She finally changed, we might have finally had the chance to be and act like siblings and now the chance is gone. And for me, it seems like everyday I lose just a little bit more. I don’t know if I can take it.” “Oh, honey,” She sighed and held you a little tighter. “It’s going to be okay.” “It’s not,” You whispered, closing your eyes as the tears filled them. “What else is bugging you, hon? Hmm? Because I don’t think this is about your sister.” So you told her, everything from being afraid of living alone now that you apparently had seizures (even with the medicine), to how you felt like your heart had been ground into dust over Hoseok. How his smile made you feel like life was worth living, but knowing that he would never in his right mind give it to you made you feel like you were dying. You told her about your worry over finding a new job, a place to live, everything. All while crying your eyes out. She didn’t say much, small comforting things, mostly just letting you get it all out now that you were safe. She waited until your sobs were hiccups, and your tears had slowed. You were sort of limp in her arms, finding comfort in her. “You should talk to Hobi about it,” She finally said, gently brushing your hair from your face. “I know it’s scary, and I know it feels like too big of a risk right now, but if you don’t, you’re going to really hurt yourself in the long run. You can wait until you’ve recovered, but I think the sooner you do it the better it will be.” You nodded, then cracked a smile as she directed your hand to where one of her twins was kicking a tiny bit. “How are you doing?” “Well, normally twins come early, so I’m sort of worried, but the doctors were constantly checking on me at the sanctuary. If I don’t go into labor within the week, they’re going to do a c-section. I don’t think it’ll come to that though.” You sat up, smiling at her. “Why’s that? Did you have spicy food or something?” “Mmm, I could really go for some curry now…” She murmured, then shook her head. “No, but I should probably get Jin in a while and head to the hospital.” You looked at her. “You’re way too calm for someone who basically just said they’re in labor.” “I was in the hospital for two days with the triplets before they were born. You learn how long you can wait. Besides, they’re all cuddled up with Jin in this big pile of blankets and pillows and it’s adorable. Then Jungkook and Jimin joined them and it was even more adorable, so of course Hoseok joined them as well. Lots of good memories, and plenty of pictures.” She showed you one that she had taken. You grinned. She smiled at it as well, sighing. “Jungkook seemed so little when he first came, and grew so fast.” “The man that did those things to Hoseok…” “Tried to break into the Sanctuary. Thought he was there.” “And?” She shifted. “Jin put two bullets in his chest, and the police put a third in his head.” Her voice was surprisingly cold. “Good,” You said. She nodded slowly. “The files your sister released showed that Hobi was the first to survive him. Yoongi would have been killed too if he hadn’t been so strong. I’m not saying killing him was right, but I couldn’t sleep knowing he was out there somewhere. Hurting someone. Even if he had lived, he would have received the death penalty. He just got it a little sooner than he expected.” “Eomma?” Hoseok poked his head into the room, then froze, looking between you and Emma. You could see how he wanted to rush over and find out what was wrong, itching to try and comfort you because he couldn’t help it. He instinctively needed to protect you, that’s what he said. “Hey, Hobi. You okay?” She asked, her voice softer. He nodded tersely. “Everything okay here?” “Yeah, we’re just having some girl-talk. Can you go wake Jin, Hobi? Tell him we need to head to the hospital?” “Why?!” His tail fluffed out, eyes wide. She laughed softly. “Had to have these babies sometime, Hobi.” His shoulders relaxed dramatically. “Oh, right. Got it. I’ll go wake him up.” He handed you the box of tissues, then left. She lightly rubbed your back. “You okay?” “Yeah, I’ll be fine. You just focus on your babies,” You told her, leaning on her shoulder. “You try to relax. Don’t worry so much about you and Hobi. Everything will work out for the best.” You nodded, watching somewhat helplessly as she stood up and headed toward the hallway, slipping on her flats and her coat serenely as she waited for her husband. Jin came quickly with a bag, dressed again, and he kissed her. “You ready, baby?” “Yeah, honey. I’m ready. Hobi…” “I’m in charge, I know the drill. I’ll bring the kids in when you call.” He kissed her cheek, nuzzling it lightly. “Love you, Eomma.” “Love you too.” She looked over at you and smiled reassuringly. “Make sure she gets to bed at a decent time, yeah?” “I will.” He smiled at you. His hair was a bit messy from his nap and you just wanted to run your hands through it. Your heart ached as you watched how lovingly Jin looked at Emma as they left, the way he seemed to know what was enough attention and what was too much. You wanted something like that. You had something similar, but his heart wasn’t actually in it. Just his instinct. You wanted it because the other person loved you, really and truly loved you. And someone as amazing as Hoseok was way out of your league. “Hey, you still with me?” He asked, crouching in front of you. You nodded, giving him a fleeting smile. “Yeah, just…kind of jealous of her and Jin, you know?” He broke into a grin as he chuckle. “I do know. I mean, they have everything. Even if the past week has been absolutely crazy. They have the house, with the yard, and three angels sleeping upstairs with their adopted kids while they go to the hospital to give birth to two more angels. You know, they’re actually married? It’s so rare in the world of hybrids to actually get married, most just mate.” “But she’s human,” You pointed out, shrugging. “Marriage is something we sort of dream about. Some don’t see it as necessary and others believe it very necessary or right, or just plain romantic.” “What about you?” You dared to glance at his face for the very smallest moment. “I don’t know. When I was younger I dreamed about a wedding. My dad walking me down the isle, I’d have a sunflower and lily bouquet, and my family would be getting along. My mom would cry, and my sister would be my maid of honor. Instead, my father and sister are dead, and my mom is in jail and has refused every attempt I’ve made to visit her because I turned her in. And I’m allergic to lilies. I can’t even really walk.” “You’re getting better,” He reassured you softly, his eyes sad as he gently held your hand. “Am I?” You asked, then sighed. “It just feels like it never ends.” He nodded, then got up before picking you up. “You’ll feel better tomorrow, after you get some sleep. Do you want to go to the hospital with us?” You shrugged. “It’s a family thing. I don’t want to intrude.” “You won’t be intruding. You’re part of this family now.” He helped you pull the covers over you. “Besides, they’re going to be cute kids.” “They’ve got good genes,” You replied, half-asleep already. He whispered something in reply, kissing your forehead, but you were drifting to sleep too fast to make it out.

Masterlist. ~ Part 8. ~ Part 10. ~ Masterpost.

Tagged: @jiminslye @musicandmusing @it-is-dana @kimmie113080 @bluebirdphantom

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marybeatriceofmodena · 6 years

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Solo: a Star Wars Story - A Review (which I managed to keep short at least when it comes to my standards *puts gold sticker on self*)

So I saw Solo yesterday, and I’ll be putting my detailed/spoilery thoughts under the cut.

As for a general overview while trying to spoil as little as possible… I definitely liked the movie. To compare it to another anthology movie, I didn’t like it as much as Rogue One, but it was very enjoyable: basically Western meets film noir meets sci-fi, and the combo worked pretty well.

I have to admit, before the marketing for the film started, I was very meh about it. I didn’t hate it in advance like some people did, but I was pretty much planning to see it just because Lawrence Kasdan was the screenwriter, Donald Glover was Lando and I honestly couldn’t have thought of a better casting choice, and Thandie Newton aka my dreamcast for Selina Kyle/Catwoman was in it.

I did start getting a bit more optimistic as time went on. And since I’m a creature of dust and ashes and, most especially, salt, I wanted Alden Ehrenreich to succeed as Han partly because of the fandom being all “HE’S NOT HARRISON”, and also partly because if he hadn’t told the big bosses the original directors wanted Han to be space Ace Ventura, this movie would have been a mess.

And… despite all the complications, they actually did it. And unlike Justice League, I didn’t really see big contrasts indicating there had been two different visions working on the movie.

So it honestly makes me sad that the movie is underperforming because it's a genuinely well-made, multi-layered heist film. I don't think it's the film itself's fault: Lucasfilm/Disney had some pretty terrible timing and promo for the film overall, and they REALLY should have pushed it back to December.

Everyone in the cast was very good, well-cast: Alden did a terrific job playing Han and while I didn’t think he looked a lot like Harrison Ford at first, I can see the resemblance now; Donald Glover was perfection as Lando, and Emilia Clarke and Qi’ra turned out to be pleasant surprises and I enjoyed them a lot more than I expected to.

For some reason… the overall storyline and how it drew out kind of reminded me of a video game. I’m not sure why, though. That’s not to say it was badly done, but it could simply be that I became used to how quickly paced TFA and R1 were, or how TLJ was either jarringly edited at first viewing, and how certain elements were rushed and others dragging for too long. Solo didn’t have any pacing issues… though I might change my mind after repeat viewings.

There were a lot of things I was a bit afraid of before the film came out that thankfully did not bother me too much, but I did read spoilers before going in. I kept myself spoiler-free to a certain extent for TLJ and I kind of regret it, so I decided not to take any chances. (SO YOU CAN BE SURE AS HELL I’LL DO IT FOR IX.) So I was prepared going in, so there’s nothing I saw that upset me.

Shout-out to the soundtrack. It was GREAT.

Anyway, the spoilery part is under the cut. Read at your own risk.

Alden was really a pleasant surprise. You can really forget he’s not Harrison and even if Han is a lot more optimistic and cheerful than the cynical scoundrel we meet in ANH, he’s still the dumbass Han who brags a lot even if he’s a dumbass and who tries to talk his way out of shit and fails because he’s a dumbass. He's not the cynical scoundrel we meet in ANH *yet*, but it made sense for me for him not to be like that right now. He's basically a dumbass puppy dog like his son. No wonder Qi'ra is so protective of him.

Donald Glover as Lando was a scene-stealer. I even wish we saw more of him, or scenes of him with Han, because they had some pretty good frenemy chemistry.

Han and Chewie were probably one of the best parts of the movie, and even my favorite relationship out of all. Their encounter was very well-done, and they totally sold how they’d do anything for each other.

Qi’ra… I could honestly write an entire post about her alone, and I probably will, because she was hands down the most intriguing character in the movie. And it’s nice to see Emilia Clarke show off her acting chops and see her in other stuff than Boobs, Dragons, Death. Though, I will say, my point of view on Qi’ra will probably be different from the point of view I’ve seen from other people, but yeah.

As a sidenote, I definitely saw the parallels between Ben and Rey, and Qi’ra and Han. As a lot of people pointed out, Han and Qi’ra in the elevator and then confronting Dryden Vos was basically “Throne Room, take two”. This said, I can definitely see how Qi’ra and Ben are similar, and how Han and Rey are similar, but I did spot some similarities between Qi’ra and Rey, and between Han and Ben. I’ll probably expand it in another post, once I get down to writing it, but one thing Qi’ra and Rey have in common is how they smile even in the most dismal situations and in order to hide their vulnerability – even if their reasons for smiling are very different. Qi’ra is a Stepford Smiler to survive, and because she knows how ugly the world can be, while Rey is not only a lot more sheltered than Qi’ra (even if her life was by no means easy), but she puts on a happy face because she’s in denial about her parents, and probably because she so desperately wants to be accepted and loved. So long story short, Qi’ra is basically how Rey would have been if she had gone through what Ben went through. So that really brings a whole new perspective to how Han views Rey in TFA: I think he sees his youthful optimism in her, but he’s also fully aware what could happen to her if she went back on Jakku, because of what happened to Qi’ra. But again, I’m preparing a full-blown analysis of Qi’ra. Stay tuned.

I legit cried when she told Han she thought of him and the two of them flying away whenever it was hard for her. I’m still getting kind of teary-eyed thinking about it.

Okay, last thing about Qi’ra: I wouldn’t say she becomes a crime boss because she craves power or because she’s scared and has some sort of Stockholm Syndrome or whatever. I’d actually argue she chose love over power, and she’s ultimately a tragic case of “to love is to let go”. So yeah, it’s a lot more complicated than it seems, and it’s all about her being pretty much Han’s dark guardian angel of sorts. But again, I’ll expand on it in another post.

Tobias Beckett was great. A total asshole, but you still get attached to him even if you want to kick him in the balls.

I really liked Val and Rio, and it’s a waste they died so early. You could totally buy Val and Beckett as the old-married couple who bicker all the time. They managed to make their deaths emotional—and special shout-out to Rio’s death. Nice bit of foreshadowing when he dies saying that dying alone is the worst thing (now please excuse me while I roll in a ball in a corner and cry, thinking of how Han died nearly 40 years later).

I know L3 annoyed a lot of people. She didn’t annoy me too much, mainly because I just decided to not take her seriously and to see her “droid rights activism” as a joke. I mean, just looking at how Lando takes it, every time she makes a comment about it or does something about it, he’s all “Oh God not this again”. As some people have pointed out before me, she’s basically a robot version of Lisa Simpson. Her dying didn’t move me as much as Val or Rio, though.

Also, the TLJ novelization mentions a virtual intelligence of sorts in the Falcon that has a pretty foul sense of humor, so that’s probably foreshadowing for the reveal that L3 has been integrated into the Falcon after her death.

I’m going to talk about Dryden Vos in my Qi’ra post, but I don’t know if it’s due to Paul Bettany’s makeup, but he looked kind of… frail? Don’t get me wrong, he’s totally the Affably Evil Sociopath type, and he’s definitely someone you do not want to mess around with, but yeah. Him looking almost skeletal was probably part of the deal.

Enfys Nest was EPIC. I really hope we get comic books or novels about her, and it’s nice to see other rebel cells around. And her theme was THE SHIT with the choir and all. (Also, for my fellow Les Mis fans reading this: her actress (Erin Kellyman) is going to be Éponine in the upcoming BBC adaptation of Les Mis.)

Spotted Warwick Davis playing one of Enfys Nest’s crew.

Also, the confrontation between Han and his crew versus Enfys Nest was some space spaghetti western shit. And Lando leaving with the Falcon was absolutely hysterical.

That’s all I can think of right now. I’ll maybe have more thoughts later on.

#star wars #solo: a star wars story #rants and reviews #reylo #just in case

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kindergarchy · 7 years

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A Manual For Cleaning Woman by Lucia Berlin

Whenever I feel the need to say something through my writing, I feel naked. Exposed… vulnerable. Not the nicest state to be in. So this is what I, or some of us do: We manipulate, as much as possible. Names altered, punchlines added. We pretend things that we hold dear don’t matter to us. Sometimes, we distance and remove ourselves - so much so that the body of knowledge is no longer recognizable; let alone resemblant of our own story.

(Welcome home, it’s safer now.)

But that’s not the case with Lucia Berlin. No one is saying that her works are 100% autobiographical… the umbrella of fiction her book falls under has allowed her to add a touch of, well, transformation of the truth (she refused to call it an “alteration of the truth”). Nevertheless, Berlin never plays it safe. She is never guarded in her stories. Upon reading her I get the feeling that although there are parts she might have preferred for the world to not know, she is not hiding them. Awkward details are dwelled upon sufficiently, discomfort never being glossed over. Pain - whether inflicted by or upon her, so much of it. Unafraid to bare it all, Berlin in her selected stories is doing what the opposite of most of us are doing. Being naked. Vulnerable. Human.

The thing about a collection of short stories is there must be a common thread connecting all of them - recurring themes, style of writing, a common voice - and yet they need to differ or be disjointed enough so that there is some space to breathe, a room for variation. This is why collections of short stories are not for everyone. You take a break and you start again. Just when you start investing in the storyline or the characters, the stories are brought to an end. It is emotionally and mentally taxing. Not the case with Lucia Berlin.

At first, perhaps, the book seems like a series of well-written stories: Neat, vivid, electric, expressive, introspective yet absorptive, calm yet unrestrained. A few stories down the road, patterns emerge: Alcoholic mother, dying sister, passionate affairs, troubled families, food stamps, school bullies, abusive men. All told in a very savory manner. Berlin relishes each and every detail, milking the most out of life. And then you realize all along it’s her life we’ve been reading.

Maybe I am biased… Mexico city is one of my favorite places to visit and I love the folks in Berkeley. Although either way I cannot imagine people getting bored from being told about these places. I mean, how could they? These places are bursting with life. Joie de vivre!

She forced herself to relax, to enjoy langostinos broiled in garlic. Mariachis were strolling from table to table, passed hers by when they saw her frozen expression. Sabor a ti. The taste of you. Imagine an American song about how somebody tasted? Everything in Mexico tasted. Vivid garlic, cilantro, lime. The smells were vivid. Not the flowers, they didn’t smell at all. But the sea, the pleasant smell of decaying jungle. Rancid odor of the pigskin chairs, kerosene-waxed tiles, candles.

But there is a price for that liveliness. Reading Berlin was a hard slap across my face. Things that I thought were cool back in Berkeley and Mexico City, have real consequences on people’s lives. I remember when I thought a text exchange with a stranger that I met on the street was funny:

“Hey man amanda here! Met you a while back near shattuck market. Got some of the stuff you told me last time?”

“Sorry this his aunt he got in santa rita.”

"Oh alright when is he coming back? He didn’t bring his phone?”

“Don’t no yet.”

How naive of me. At first I thought Santa Rita was a place like Santa Monica, until I googled… and giggled. I told my friends about it. The aunt’s broken English, the coincidence. “So funny right?” It makes me sick now… There is nothing funny about someone giving up a share of his life, most probably due to social injustice and a crooked federal prison system. This is how I feel about a lot of people who think black culture is cool with almost no context... We can think so because we are watching from a comfortable seat. To us they are a spectacle, a sight to behold. A band of tough fellas under the flag of counterculture. We glorify them, the “street” culture, unaware of or heavily underestimate the day-to-day suffering. In Indonesia we would say, “Ngomong doang sih enak (more or less translates to “Talk is cheap”).” In Good or Bad, this sentiment is illustrated clearly:

“See, they like you,” Miss Dawson said. “Doesn’t that make you feel good?”

I knew that they liked my shoes and stockings, my red Chanel jacket.

Miss Dawson and her friends were exhilarated as we drove away, chatting happily. I was sickened and depressed.

“What good does it do to feed them once a week? It doesn’t make a dent in their lives. They need more than biscuits once a week, for Lord’s sake.”

Right. But until the revolution came and everything was shared you had to do whatever helped at all.

“They need to know somebody realizes they live out here. We tell them that soon things will change. Hope. It’s about hope,” Miss Dawson said.

I’m a bit of both of these characters, currently. Scared of not doing enough, sometimes I end up doing nothing at all.

Lucia Berlin is the only white person I’ve read so far who has successfully managed to talk in depth about it in an immersive and non-condescending manner, probably simply because she has lived through it. There are no “white people suffer too” or “it’s all in your head” sentiments. She knows, and she’s telling us these. Reading her has made it more difficult for me to react to these issues, because I get a good glimpse of their world and there is probably nothing I can do about it. My defensiveness for the minorities is not out of the need to become politically correct.

Addiction plays a central role to Berlin’s stories, summarized by one of the strongest lines in this book: Of course by this time I had realized all the reasons why he couldn’t stop the truck, because by this time I was an alcoholic. There is probably not much known about alcoholism, people thinking that it’s less harmful than illegal drug addiction, or that if you drink a lot it means you are an alcoholic. I think the main thing that separates an alcoholic from someone who loves to drink is in fact, unrelated to alcohol. It’s what they do with the rest of their time. The Rat Park experiment came to mind: If you are “caged”, the likelihood of you consuming and eventually becoming physically dependant on your substance of choice increases dramatically. Not when you have the option of spending your time in a “Rat Park,” full of toys, friends, and other pleasantries. Lucia Berlin’s characters do not have the luxury of a “Rat Park.”

In this book most of the gems are placed beyond halfway through the book. Just when I get blown by one of the stories, it is outdone in the next story. My favorites: Friends, Melina, Grief, Fool to Cry, Good and Bad, So Long, Let Me See You Smile, Mama, Silence, Mijito, Here It Is Saturday.

Berlin is a master of phrases, they dance. My favorites:

The absence of noise was what so evocative of her childhood, of another era. No sirens, no traffic, no radios. A horsefly buzzed against the window, snip of scissors, the rhythm of the two men’s voices, an electric fan with dirty ribbons flying rustled old magazines. The barber ignored her, not out of rudeness but from courtesy.

and

“I pity you. All your life you are going to be paralyzed by What Is Done, by what people tell you you should think or do. I do not dress to please others. It is a very hot day, and I feel comfortable in this dress.”

“Well… it makes me not comfortable. People will say rude things to us. It is different here, from the United States…”

“The best thing that could happen to you would be for you to be uncomfortable once in a while.”

and

Jesse made everybody feel important. He wasn’t kind. Kind is a word like charity; it implies an effort. Like that bumper sticker about random acts of kindness. It should mean how someone always is, not an act he chooses to do. Jesse had a compassionate curiosity about everyone. All my life I have felt that I didn’t really exist at all. He saw me. He saw who I was. In spite of all the dangerous things we did, being with him was the only time I was ever safe.

and

These are pointless questions. The only reason I have lived so long is that I let go of my past. Shut the door on grief on regret on remorse. If I let them in, just one self-indulgent crack, whap, the door will fling open gales of pain ripping through my heart blinding my eyes with shame breaking cups and bottles knocking down jars shattering windows stumbling bloody on spilled sugar and broken glass terrified gagging until with a final shudder and sob I shut the heavy door. Pick up the pieces one more time.

Maybe this is not so dangerous a thing to do, to let the past in with the preface “What if?” What if I had spoken with Paul before he left? What if I had asked for help? What if I had married H? Sitting here, looking out the window toward the tree where now there are no branches or crows, the answers to each “what if” are strangely reassuring. They could not have happened, this what if, that what if. Everything good or bad that has occurred in my life has been predictable and inevitable, especially the choices and actions that have made sure I am utterly alone.

#lucia berlin #a manual for cleaning women #short stories #lydia davis #book review

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