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sleepless-in-starbucks · 4 years

Text

(Let Me) Cover Your Eyes

Ao3

Summary: Remy’s a queen, but that doesn’t mean they get any rights. Logan’s not even a noble, but that doesn’t mean ay can’t do something. Content: Arranged marriage, sensory overload, references to noncon/dubcon kissing, one implication of possible future noncon/dubcon sex (none actually happens, just vaguely mentioned), basically being treated like a slave, one instance of self-harm, mentioned starvation, fear about being caught, misgendering (some accidental, some purposeful but for good reason), magic au, genderfluid!remy, nb!logan Pairing: Platonic losleep Note: There’s an oc in this referred to just as ‘the king’- he’s not meant to be a certain character or anything, he’s just an oc

If you asked anyone who knew her how Remy felt about parties, you would get the same answer from all of them: she loved them. She wore the most exquisite gowns and the most beautiful jewels to them, face made up in bright colours that highlighted her ever-present smile, mingling and laughing with all who attended. They were one of her greatest joys.

All of these people would be wrong. And this would be because they weren’t describing Remy- they were describing Maria.

Remy hated parties. The outfits she wore to them were too tight and difficult to move in, the jewelry paired with them clunky and not flattering to her. She wore so much make-up it felt as if breathing too hard would mess it up, and she felt suffocated beneath the smiles she couldn’t drop as she forced herself to interact with the masses. They were awful, and they made her feel awful.

But that didn’t stop them from occurring twice a month, and that didn’t stop Remy from having to go to them, always dolled up to the point you could barely tell she was anything more than a statue of perfect pose and restrained emotion.

That’s all she was, after all. Marriage may have deemed her a queen, but birth had deemed her a doll to be controlled and admired by others, and birth always won out.

So when the king (her husband, she could have said, but they both knew that wasn’t the purpose of their marriage, so there wasn’t really any reason to pretend otherwise) reminded her of the ball that evening and told her to get ready, she did. Even if her skin crawled and she wished she could do anything else, she did.

Her casual clothes were swapped out for a dark green ball gown that was much too tight around her stomach and much too loose everywhere else. She was adorned in heavy gold jewelry from head to toe, and her face was painted white and detailed like a mask of glittering emeralds and sapphires. And for the final touch, her sunglasses were taken from her and replaced with the reminder to smile.

“You look beautiful.” The king commented as Remy once more joined him. He was barely changed from earlier, his robes straightened a bit and little else. He wasn’t the one who was going to be on display.

“Thank you.” Remy said, but the response was hollow. The king’s words had been no compliment, simply a satisfied remark that his showpiece was prepared for the evening.

At the king’s prompting, Remy slipped her arm in his, wishing this gown had been one of the ones that came with gloves. The party would be hell on her senses no matter what, but the little things did help.

But, Remy supposed, she was already lucky enough she was a woman at the moment. Sure, she’d feel like hell and still be forced to act as if she was in heaven, but at least she wouldn’t be misgendered.

Little things.

The party had gone downhill for Remy at about the same rate as always; aka, really fucking fast.

The lights were too bright on their own, traditional candles covering practically every inch of the walls while the chandeliers above were lit up by crystallized sunlight, all of it made worse by the hundreds of gems that reflected the light even more throughout the room. The colours of outfit amongst the partygoers were violent clashes of manageable darks and painfully bright neons. Chinking glasses and overlapping conversations echoed in the large ballroom. Everything was too much, and to top it all off Remy’s gender had shifted again, the pesky thing, and now every addressal of ‘my queen’ made them feel sick.

Not that you could have guessed any of that, looking at Remy. They were used to it, after all. Used to everything being so much it made it hard to talk or think or breathe, used to feeling as if their skin was buzzing with the amount of hands they were shaking, used to smiling through it all as if they were enjoying themself and not crumbling piece by piece, only to be put back together again just in time for the next party.

It would be easy if it didn’t hurt so much.

Barely an hour into the party and Remy was ready to find a corner and press themself into it until they simply didn’t exist anymore. Every minute afterwards only got worse, and were it not for the eyes of the guards at every door and corner constantly on them Remy would’ve just left and faced the consequences later.

And of course, because Remy was already having such a wonderful evening, things went from bad to utterly terrible in the space of a few too-fast heartbeats.

The most recent noble Remy had struck up conversation with had been charming, in a good way. They hadn’t tried to shake Remy’s hand, something Remy was immensely grateful for, and they kept their attention towards the crowd around them as they chatted, not staring uncomfortably at Remy’s face like everyone else did. Remy wouldn’t say they were happy talking to them, but it was certainly the best interaction they had had that evening.

And then they asked Remy to stay put while they spoke to the king, and everything was right back to being horrible.

Remy wasn’t surprised when the noble returned to lead them outside, out onto the low balcony set in the back of the palace. It was a lovely night, after all, temperate and cloudless, and going to a bedroom would’ve been pointless anyways. It was still a few months before their first year with the king was up, and tradition was tradition, even if the king was much too preoccupied with peace treaties and border shifts to pay Remy any ‘attention.’

They stepped out onto the balcony before the noble, taking in a breath of the cool air while they waited for the noble to close the door and make their move. Remy wasn’t sure what to expect, only knowing that the most seemingly charming nobles were the worst in this regard.

Soon enough, they were in front of Remy, for the first time that evening looking them in their eyes. Remy wasn’t surprised. They were gorgeous, after all, the whole spectrum of colour twisting and turning in their irises, never stopping. Remy had expected them to look eventually. That was why they were on display.

Lost in their thoughts, Remy didn’t notice that the noble was offering them something until they spoke up, their tone clear and the slightest bit concerned, “Here.”

Remy thought they were directing them in some manner. Instead, their hand was out, palm up, offering Remy…

“Sunglasses?” Remy said, confused. They weren’t supposed to cover their eyes at parties, for the express purpose of ensuring all the guests could see them. It was practically etiquette for beings like them. “The king won’t allow it.”

“He can’t see you right now.” The noble pointed out evenly, as if they were simply stating a fact. When Remy didn’t respond to that, they added, “You’re uncomfortable. These will help.”

Part of Remy was still untrusting of the noble’s offer. It was too likely this was simply a trap, some sort of twisted test to see if Remy would respond properly.

But Remy really did want to put the sunglasses on, to once more quiet the world, consequences be damned. Plus, there was something… unplaceable about this noble. Remy was loath to call them trustworthy, but they didn’t inspire distrust nearly as much as anyone else Remy was forced to know, and that meant something to Remy.

So they accepted the sunglasses.

Immediately after putting them on, Remy could feel their senses quieting, the new muted, dark appearance to the world around them convincing some primal part of their brain that they no longer needed to be on full alert. Remy’s dulled senses were roughly on par with a human’s full-alert ones, something that made the human world much easier to bear. Their skin was still crawling, too much touch not something that could just be blocked out at a moment’s notice, but that was alright with Remy. Something was better than nothing. They didn’t need everything.

The noble, however, didn’t seem as satisfied. They were frowning, head tilted as they looked at Remy.

“You’re still uncomfortable.” They observed, which Remy supposed wasn’t too surprising. They were good at acting okay, but it wasn’t a waterproof facade. Just good enough so that nobles who didn’t care weren’t forced to feel uncomfortable due to Remy’s own discomfort.

“I’m fine.” Remy lied, trying to maintain the facade, as always. “Now, are you-”

Before they could finish their sentence, Remy was stopped by the noble shrugging off their dark blue and silver embroidered jacket, leaving them in a matching tie and black button-up as they offered the jacket to Remy. “Here. The pressure should help with your crawling skin, so long as the fabric doesn’t upset you.”

Now that? That was odd.

“How did you know my skin was crawling?” Remy asked as they accepted the jacket. They had been given ‘favors’ before, so there was no danger in wearing the noble’s. There might’ve been a time when there was, but Remy had been careful to insure otherwise.

“I’m an empath.” The noble answered.

Remy nodded, now only slightly confused. While being an empath did answer their original question, it also proposed a new one: what were they doing here? Empaths were not considered of high social standing, but instead as workers, made to help lift others up and be crushed under foot if they weren’t careful. The only way an empath would be at one of the king’s parties was if they were rich beyond good reason, and Remy found those types were never charming.

Trying to put their confusion out of mind, Remy pulled on the jacket, feeling relieved almost immediately. The jacket was heavy, but not tight or restricting, and the material of it felt nice against their skin. Though there was still the lingering feel of everyone who had touched them in the last hour, it was mostly gone, blocked out by the jacket.

“You’re comfortable now. Good.” The noble observed, and Remy felt their heart rate spike, even if only for a moment. So that was their angle. Comfortable. At least it was classy.

“I suppose I am.” Remy responded, as neutrally as possible. Of course the empath would want them to be comfortable, wouldn’t want to sense any negative emotions from Remy. And if Remy had any chance of making sure they didn’t have to deal with any of said emotions, they’d have to start working on blocking them out now.

The noble nodded, and Remy was ready, ready for them to make their move, to step forward or grab Remy’s hips or angle their chin or-

“May we talk?”

Once more, Remy found their thoughts slamming to a stop, the change in course sudden and completely unpredictable. Talk? Why would the noble want to talk?

“You’re confused.” The noble pointed out unhelpfully.

“I- Why aren’t you kissing me?” Remy blurted out before they could stop themself. They knew it was rude, and in horrible form, and if the king was anywhere nearby he’d be having a fit, but for the moment Remy didn’t care. They could only hold off sickening anticipation for so long, and they just wanted this over and done with as soon as possible.

In response, the noble blinked at Remy. Once. Twice. Coughed, adjusted their glasses, looked away a moment.

“Apologies.” They said, sounding awkward. “It appears I failed to properly explain the situation to you when I first left you to find the king. I have no desire to kiss you, I merely wish to talk to you.”

“That’s not why people normally bring me out onto the balcony.”

The noble ran a hand through their long dark hair, the quick, unthinking action giving Remy the impression it was a nervous habit. “And that is part of the reason I am here. But I assure you, I only want to converse. Nothing else.”

“...It’s your money.” Remy finally said, the noble’s uncomfortableness with the whole thing convincing them that they spoke the truth. The noble simply nodded, looking relieved that that conversation was over.

“It is best we speak outside of sight of possibly prying eyes.” They said, gesturing towards one of the balcony’s corners that meant the wall of the palace. Only in pressing their faces to the glass would anyone be able to see them there. Remy made no complaint, allowing themself to be pulled over to the corner, trying to ignore how many times they had been pushed into it.

Once they were situated there, the noble standing directly in the corner and Remy in front of them with more personal space than they normally got out here but also not nearly enough, the empath spoke.

“I do not think I remembered to introduce myself earlier- I am Logan, ay-em-air pronouns, empath.” Logan told Remy, only sparking their confusion as to what ay was doing at a party for nobles even more. The breaking of the gender binary was considered informal, improper, and a peasant thing to do. All nobles were cis, or at least acted as if they were. Logan being open with air identity was just another strike against em being a proper noble, much less one invited to balls. So why was ay here?

“May I ask your name and pronouns?”

Remy frowned. “I’m Maria, the queen, I-”

“You can’t lie to an empath. Not easily, anyways.” Logan corrected, offering Remy a small smile. “Even without my magic, it’s easy to tell you weren’t at ease when the others addressed you by such terms. While I understand your inability to correct them, I assure you, you will face no consequences for being honest to me.”

Logan’s ability to seem trustworthy despite giving Remy very little concrete reason to trust em was beginning to become annoying. But it still won out in the end, and Remy found themself quietly admitting, “I prefer to go by Remy. They-them works for now.”

“Alright then, Remy,” Logan began, prompting a brief small smile from Remy, “I have a question for you.”

“Oh?”

“Do you want to leave?”

Remy tilted their head to the side, confused. “Leave where?”

“Here. The palace.”

“Surely you know I can’t do that, babe.” Remy said, biting down on their tongue hard the moment the sentence was out of their mouth. Petnames weren’t proper, they weren’t noble, and they weren’t used by royals. The king hated hearing them, and was always quick to use Remy’s slip-up as a chance to remind them they were queen by title only, that there was no royalty in their blood and never would be. The verbal reminder was easy enough to block out and ignore, but the days without food? Not so much.

Remy swallowed before continuing, trying to clean their mouth of the fresh taste of blood. “Only the king can take me off the grounds.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Logan replied evenly. “I asked if you want to leave.”

“Of course I do.” Remy said, quickly glancing back to check no one was trying to approach them, turning back towards Logan when they didn’t see anything or anyone. “But that doesn’t exactly matter. Want to or not, I have to stay in the palace.”

“You don’t have to.” Logan corrected. “I can help you escape. You can leave.”

“No offense, su- Logan, but you and what army?” Remy asked, vaguely gesturing behind Logan. “The walls surrounding the palace are enchanted, there are four guards stationed at the gate and dozens more all across the grounds, and if I’m absent too long I will be sought out. I can’t just leave because you’re escorting me.”

Logan didn’t respond to that immediately, instead looking past Remy for a moment, likely at the doors to the balcony. After a moment, ay gave air attention back to Remy as ay spoke. “I understand your desire to have more concrete facts and reasonings behind what I say, but I do not have the time to answer all your questions now. I can get you out of here, but you have to trust me, and we must leave now, before we’re out of time.”

Remy bit their lip, hesitating. “If I’m caught…”

“You won’t be.” Logan assured them. “But as I said, you have to trust me, and we must leave now. Do you want to be free again, Remy?”

The question was more than just whether or not Remy wanted to be free, they knew. It wasn’t asking if Remy wanted to be free in a vacuum, asking whether or not they preferred freedom to what was more or less enslavement. It was asking if they were willing to take a risk for freedom, if they were willing to be free at a cost, if they were willing to take their chances at freedom despite the danger. It was asking if they were willing to trust Logan.

They shouldn’t have been. No one could be trusted, not anymore.

And yet…

“Yeah.” Remy answered, letting out a shaky breath as they wrapped their arms around themself. Logan’s jacket pressing closer against their skin, reassuring Remy, if only a bit. “I’ll trust you.”

The hint of a smile flickered over Logan’s face. “Good.” Ay said, before proceeding to flip emself over the balcony railing without even glancing back first.

Remy knew ay was probably fine, the drop not being a large one, and Logan clearly being prepared for the move, but it was still sudden enough to shock Remy into pushing themself against the balcony railing, making sure ay really was okay.

Ay was- at least, Remy was fairly certain an injured person wouldn’t be so focused on adjusting air tie. Ay flattened it down against air chest before ay looked up at Remy.

“Your turn.” Ay called up, only as loud as ay needed to be. Ay also opened up air arms, clearly planning to catch Remy.

Remy just scoffed to themself and jumped to the side of em, landing firmly on the ground.

Logan looked mildly impressed, raising an eyebrow at Remy. Remy shrugged. “I’m not completely helpless.”

“Never said you were.” Logan defended, though air expression was odd in a way Remy couldn’t place. Ay only allowed for a moment of staring, however, before ay turned from Remy. “This way.”

With that, ay set off across the expansive palace yard, Remy following close behind em. They were on high alert, constantly waiting to spot one of the many wandering guards who patrolled the estate day and night, but to their surprise, none seemed to be around.

Soon enough, the two of them came to the path that connected the gate to the palace, made of glistening white pebbles and smooth marble. Remy expected Logan to lead them over the path and back into the yard, where ay would soon enough lead them to a hole in the wall or something similar. What Remy hadn’t expected, however, was for Logan to stop on the path and begin heading towards the gate.

Remy grabbed air arm before ay could make it far, hissing under their breath, “What are you doing?!”

In response, Logan offered Remy a small smile, carefully looped their arms together so as that ay wasn’t too close or touching them too much, and once more moved forward, murmuring, “Trust me,” under air breath.

Only against every logical bone in their body did Remy do so, trying to focus on not falling over as Logan led them forwards, closer and closer to what Remy was certain would be the doom and ruin of this plan.

As soon as they were close enough to be recognized, the two guards stationed on the inside of the gate drew their swords, pointing them at Logan and Remy, and Remy was fairly certain their heart rate had never been higher than in that moment.

“The queen doesn’t leave the palace grounds.” One of the guards said, as if there was some way Logan could be unaware of the fact.

“Return to the party.” The other added, brandishing their blade just a touch to reinforce the point. “Unless you’d like things to get messy.”

Once again, Remy expected Logan to respond with some sort of attack, via a blade hidden in air boot or something of the like.

Once again, Remy expected the wrong thing.

Because instead of attempting to fight the guards, or even to just turn around and head back to the party, Logan simply smiled and said in a voice that didn’t sound entirely like air own, “The king has instructed me to take the lovely queen Maria out, for reasons of his own. Would you stand against the will of the king?”

One of the guards lowered their sword as soon as Logan had finished speaking, looking abashed for having challenged em. They stepped back, indicating that they would allow the two of them to pass.

The other guard hesitated for a moment, sword lowering, but they didn’t step back. “The king’s never done anything like this before. Do you have any proof of your claims?”

“You challenge the king’s wishes?” Logan replied, which Remy thought was a horribly suspicious answer.

The other guard seemingly didn’t agree, however, looking away from Logan as they sheathed their sword and stepped back. “My apologies, my liege.”

Logan curtly nodded once at the guard before moving forwards, having to tug a bit on Remy’s arm to get them to move as well. The guards made no move to ambush them or question them as they passed through the gate, simply remaining to the side, looking away from Logan.

“How did you do that?” Remy whispered to Logan as they passed under the archway of the gate, for a moment left alone in near-darkness.

“Ask me later.” Was Logan’s only response, and a moment later they were on the other side of the gate and the wall, officially outside of the palace. It was nothing much to look at, simply a round parking lot lined with cars and carriages of varying aesthetics, the road leading back towards the rest of society, trees to the left and water to the right, but it was still breathtaking to Remy. The last time they had been outside the castle walls had been nearly a year ago, and the same walls tended to grow boring fast.

“Hey! Is that the queen?!”

Ah, right. The second set of guards. Well, freedom had been sweet while it lasted, at least.

Logan didn’t seem nearly as ready to fold, however, looking between the two new guards and the two new swords being pointed at em as if ay was looking at old friends and balloons.

“It is indeed. The king has requested she be taken outside of the palace, for purposes of her safety.” Logan said, voice smooth and almost honey-like, drawing the guards in and making Remy feel as if everything about the situation was just a bit too sweet tasting. “He wishes all guards to be relocated within the palace walls until the issue has been addressed.”

Just as with the first guard from before, these guards seemed over-eager to do as Logan had asked, nodding at em as they hurried past the two of them and inside the king’s estate. Remy turned to watch them go, and that’s when it clicked.

“You’re an illusionist.” Remy said, turning back to look at Logan, eyes wide behind their sunglasses. “I thought you said you were-”

“I’m both.” Logan answered prematurely, letting go of Remy’s arms and stepping within the circle of parked vehicles. “Pick one of these for me, would you?”

Remy gave a distracted look around before pointing at one of the carriages, one with a framework of gold and crimson red silk wrapped around it. “I didn’t think it was possible to be an empath and an illusionist.”

“It is possible.” Logan responded vaguely as ay moved towards the carriage Remy had pointed out, checking inside of it quickly before moving to stand at the back side of it. “Care to assist me?”

“With what?” Remy inquired even as they came to stand beside Logan.

“We’re going to push this into the ocean.” Logan said, gesturing air head in the direction of the water. “The ground here is packed down hard enough it won’t leave enough tracks for anyone to see. Seeing the missing carriage, the king and his guards will assume we left for the town in it.”

“Where will we actually be?”

“In the forest, on the trail to a place I know you will be safe.” Logan explained as ay put air hands on the back of the carriage. “Could you kick out the block of wood, right up there, in front of the back wheel?”

Remy did so, and the carriage lurched forwards almost immediately, albeit in the wrong direction. They moved to join Logan at the back, helping to push it in the right direction as much as they could.

It took longer than Remy would’ve liked, but soon enough they were at the edge, and the carriage was over it, smashed against the jutting side of the cliff before being swallowed by the waves below. They remained there for a moment, Remy enjoying the feel of sea spray and the smell of the ocean while Logan caught air breath.

“How can you exist?” Remy asked after a few minutes, still watching the crashing and foaming waves as they spoke. “Empaths and illusionists are opposite classes of the same magic. You can’t be both.”

“That’s just something cowards say.” Logan responded, but neither the tone nor the phrasing sat right with Remy. They glanced over, catching Logan’s gaze, and ay sighed.

“I’ve accepted the consequences of my choices. There’s no point in wondering after things that are already set in figurative stone.” Ay said, not leaving any room for follow-up questions. “The sooner we leave, the less likely it is they will catch us. Are you ready to leave, Remy?”

Remy glanced back at the palace, at the harsh stone walls that had imprisoned them, at the tops of the towers they used to wander pointlessly for hours with nothing to do, at the bright lights that had only ever given them horrible headaches.

“I’ve wanted to leave that place even before I was in it.” Remy answered, turning away from it to look at Logan. “Let’s go.”

Logan nodded before turning away from the ocean, leading Remy in the opposite direction.

And with the palace, and everyone and everything within it, behind them, Remy and Logan disappeared into the forest.

#losleep #platonic losleep #ts logan #ts remy #ts sleep #write losleep cowards #fanfic #fanfiction #ts sides #sanders sides #genderfluid!remy #nb!logan #i mentally wrote more for this au than i did for this fic skdjf #if y'all confused about anything or just curious let me know because boi oh boi do i have Lore

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wcamino-confessions · 4 years

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Ok so here’s a long sumbission with my experience with echo. I want to talk about her because I don’t believe she’s an evil person, but she’s done bad things, and I want to share my experience. Quick warning that this is really long and I don’t know the limit to submissions, sorry ack- but just scroll past this eyesore if a post if you don’t wanna read it because it’s really long

So, one day she pmed me on warriors amino some time in late September or October. She had been there for around 100 days and she was level 11. I always answer any “will you be my friend” pm’s anyone invites me to, but her conversation with me definitely stuck and she would approach me in all of my spare time. We talked for a while and she asked me out. Stuff happening irl recently atm I was vulnerable, and ended up dating her within a few hours of her pming me ig. We voice chatted a couple times with a user named dawn (not the mod) who was her friend. Scrolling down through their posts I saw a comment with echo saying ily and such, I asked her if she dated them and she said “yeah” and moved on to another topic.

I was pmed by a group of people about echo, they all said she was out for my art. She dated people in the past (atm so far it had been someone named koi and then dawn /not the mod/. She was uncomfortable with the age gap in her and koi’s relationship and then broke up with dawn because she thought they were ignoring her but they were just off of amino for a while. This made a lot of sense to me that we were together partially because of art.

I ended up breaking up with her after about a month of dating. Of course she was upset by this, but within 24 hours she had immediately rebounded to another person. This was pretty much the start or near the start of the chain of dating people without breaks. Some relationship lasted days, others lasted weeks or nearly a month, rarely. At this point I can’t remember all of the people she’s dated but it’s not a small amount for that amount of time. For me, I ended up dating someone I had known irl for a year or rather than an hour, a few weeks after me and echo dated. Me and this person recently broke up a few weeks ago and she talked to me saying she still had feelings for me, and something about liking me when I was dating him but not doing anything to get us broken up. This was really a wtf moment

She usually sells ocs with a lot mainly gift art, but I thought she cared about catra more than a roblox toy. Her original design was a gift and her gallery was mostly filled with gifts by people (/I think/ suki, creeky, minnow, ottot, me, and more.). I wouldn’t have minded, but catra’s art had gifts from people who cared about her and made an effort. This is why I gave her 10k ac. I didn’t want her to sell catra. Apparently someone else was selling another roblox toy for 12k ac and she tried to sell catra again. Her friend gave her another 12k to get her to not sell catra. I believe I heard she sold catra and went against my wishes a 3rd time,,,

I actually gave her 6k ac and she replied with “ no no I need 10k “ which makes me feel pretty used. I don’t wanna spent 10k ac for that,, she went to me because she knew I had it and knew I could give it to her and the whole thing just hurts. We never spoke for 5 days and she comes by saying she needs 10k ac from me.

I told her to pay me back the coins because apparently I heard she sold catra. Echo, if you’re reading this please pay me back as soon as you can.

She also was in a dm where she said “you don’t care how I am, you’re just here because I hurt miss perfect’s feelings.” Seems surprising but it’s really something she would do.

I know what echo has dated a lot of people, I know someone that she basically tried to manipulate into dating her. She brought up beforehand that she couldn’t take rejection and when this person was able to reject her, she ghosted them because they wouldn’t date her. That’s horrible. Thats really manipulative.

I feel like she ranks her friends or treats them differently. I know she had a wiki listing her friends all ranked out, which didn’t bother me that much, but when you think you’re close with her or that she considers you a good friend she unfollows you and only refollows her favorites at the time that she wants to interact with. I remember trying to talk to her and she just ignored me (I knew because she was online atm.) I feel like sometimes she treats people like toys that she can put away when she’s bored of them and only interact with her favorite ones, but then she switches out her favorites and just ignores the other ones.

When she’s asking someone out she’ll always tell them they make her feel special or something. I don’t believe she’s after relationships for art, but I believe she has a preference for artistic or popular users. She has a pattern of meeting someone, getting close with them, they date her for a short while, and then they break up because the relationship isn’t what she thought it was.

She makes hangout chats with whoever she ships herself with, and ship art contests. When people donate prizes to her and make entries she just deletes the post (I don’t think that’s okay, people actually made an effort to make you art.)

I heard from one of the people she had a crush on at some point (super cool and valid person btw) that she was pestering people for contest prizes for a ship art contest of them she made without asking. This person is someone that she made really uncomfortable; she got mad at THEM when she found out she did.

The claim that she is homophobic is something I don’t believe personally. Without a doubt she’s done homophobic things- she talked to me about one submission here that accused her of being homophobic. She said her ftm trans friend had a personality change when they came out, but in a voice not she constantly misgendered her friend/used dead name and made no effort to ever correct herself on his pronouns/name. The whole time she never addressed them correctly and didn’t care to try. I have a trans friend who she’s completely fine with, she calls him by the correct names and pronouns all the time and isn’t homophobic to all trans people. Ig she was different in that situation, but I still think purposely misgendering is never okay.

I don’t want to make this super long (bruh it already is) but that’s just the basics of my experiences with her, I know many people she dated can relate to some of these, and I’m so sorry to anyone she’s treated badly. You and your feelings are valid and I hope you had okay experiences with her,, Again, I’m so sorry to anyone she has hurt.

#submission #transphobia tw

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metaphysical-human-being · 5 years

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Roman

A/N: I wrote more fic because polotics and because the bees made me

Warnings: transphobia, horrible parenting, Remus being Remus, t-slur, swearing, crying, purposeful misgendering, tell me if there are more!

Ships: none

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Roman checked his bag one more time. He needed to make sure he had everything.

Shuffling through his bag he let out a long sigh before rushing into his bathroom. He was forgetting about toothpaste and toothbrush.

"You sure you got everything? And you remember the code to use if it goes bad?" Jasmine, Romans best friend, said over the phone.

"Yeah, Jazz. I triple checked everything." Roman announced, placing his toothbrush in his bag along with his toothpaste.

"Good, did you forget your sword?" Jazz asked. She knew how much he loved his sword.

"Nope! In my bag. Along with my keys, my masculine clothes, my binder -thanks for that, again. You're amazing- brush, shampoo, school stuff, my charger, toothbrush and toothpaste." He checked off.

The girl chuckled. "Good. Can't forget that shampoo. I would let you borrow mine but my kinky ass hair shampoo is not gonna work with that white-boy hair you got." She said, smirk evident in her tone.

"Oh ha ha," he mocked. She was always doing that but he didn't actually mind.

"Now," she got serious again. "Tell me the plan one more time."

"Okay," he took a seat on his bed. "I'mma put my stuff in my car and come out to my mom after dinner. If she reacts badly then I text you the code word-"

"Which is?" She interrupted.

"Chicken butt. Then I drive to your house and stay at your place until my dad gets back from his trip. Then I tell him. If he reacts the same as my mom then I stay at your place. If he reacts how we think he will then I can just stay with my dad permanently. If my mom reacts well then I just stay at my place and tell my dad when he gets back." Roman explained, one more time. He knew this plan to heart, they've been planning it since he first told her when he was thirteen that he wasn't a girl.

"Good. Good luck out there, soldier. I gotta go prepare your room in case she reacts the way we assume. Love ya, bye!" She hung up.

Roman let out one more sigh before he heard a knock on his door. He looked up and saw his younger brother, Remus, standing there.

"What do you want, peasant?" Roman asked, earning a glare from the younger boy.

"Two things. One; what's that stuff on your bed? Two; dinner time." He said in his sing-song voice.

"None of your damn business and okay. I'll be down in a sec." Roman shot back. He didn't want his brother to know anything. He'd tell his mom immediately and the plan will have to happen early.

"I would be nicer to me if I were you or I'll cut off your boobs, slice them up, bake them in a pie and feed it to you." The 12 year old hissed before flipping him the bird and running off downstairs.

Roman grabbed his stuff and went downstairs, passed the kitchen and outside to his car. He got it from his dad when he first turned sixteen a couple months ago. It was old and not the best but it was his most prized possession for he knew that his father had been saving up the money since Roman was eight so he'd be able to have it for his sixteenth.

Quickly, he placed his backpack in the passenger seat and briskly walked back inside.

"Why'd you go outside?" His mother, Aleiya, asked. Her perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised as if asking him what he was up to this time.

Roman looked down at his phone in his hand. "I just left my phone in my car." He lied through his teeth. He's gotten good at it, being an actor and all.

His mother just gave him a slight nod before telling him to go hurry up and wash his hands.

After a quick prayer the family started eating. Remus went on and on about his day, saying a lot of… questionable things.

"-and I was sitting in class thinking 'hey? What would it be like if I tied up my teacher by his ankles and shove chalk so far up his a-"

"Okay! That's enough out of you." His mother pointedly stared at Remus. Remus just shrugged before going back to his food.

"Roseanne, sweety, how was your day?" His mother asked. Roman just shrugged before shoving more food in his face. He was too busy going over all the different scenarios in his head to answer.

"Oh! Mom! I wanted to tell you something!" Remus spoke up once more. His mother turned to her youngest child and told him to go on, although to keep it pg.

"Y'know that dick RoRo wants?I know where we can get him one. I know a guy," He said, simply. His wide, kinda-but-not-really innocent smile on his face. Absolutely no idea about what he had just done.

Romans eyes widened while his mothers darkened.

"Remus, sweety," she asked, so sweet it was sickening. "What do you mean by that?" She asked, venom dripping in her words. Roman tensed up.

"Y'know? The dick that Roman wants. I know where we can find one!" Remus said, pointing at Roman.

His mother's face twisted into something down right nasty.

"Remus, sweety ...who's Roman?" She asked, glaring daggers at Roman just across the table.

Remus giggled as if this was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

"You're looking at him, silly….oh, wait. He was gonna tell you after dinner, right? That was the plan you and Jazz band were talking about...hm, oh well." He rushed, shrugging it off as if it were that simple. Roman kinda wished it could be.

"Anyway, can I have a worm and Beetlejuice shake for desse-"

"Rose." She said, voice hard and angry as she cut off Remus.

"Is what Rem saying...true?" Roman just opened and closed his mouth, looking like a fish out of water.

"Is. It. True!" She yelled at him, standing up from her seat and slamming her hands down on the table. Remus flinched. Roman looked at his food.

"Yes." He murmured. That's where shit hit the fan.

"Get out of my damn house."

"What?" Both Roman and Remus squeaked. Remus didn't know this would happen. He….he thought he was helping. Not getting his older brother thrown out.

"You heard me, tranny. Get out of my damn house. This ain't no pride parade. Get your shit and leave!" She spat, sitting back down and glaring at Roman.

And with a huff and a glare, Roman left the table.

Remus stared as his brother shoved back the seat and stormed out of the house, making sure to slam the door as loud as possible.

Everything went according to plan. Roman texted Jasmine and went to her house, struggling not to cry on the drive over. The minute she opened the door he was in her arms, sobbing. She rubbed his back and told him to let it all out.

That was the first night Remus cried himself to sleep.

After a few days, Romans dad came back home. Roman texted him, asking to meet at a coffee shop so he could explain why he wasn't at his mother's.

Remus had told him that their mother refused to even acknowledge she had another child so their dad was really confused.

"Hey, dad! Over here!" Roman called, waving to his father when he saw him enter the shop.

The man in question, Paul, walked over to the table and took a seat right across from him.

Just looking at the pair you could tell they were related. Roman got most of his looks from his dad. He got his dad's dark brown eyes with specks of gold. He also got his dad's light brown, almost blonde hair. He got his tan, sun kissed skin and his splatter of freckles. The only thing he got from his mom was his smile.

He gave Roman a politeful hello and asked how he's been. They had a small conversation before his dad asked the big question.

"So ..why'd your mother kick you out?" His dad asked, setting his phone down on the table. Roman took a gulp before he started to explain the events of a couple nights ago. His dad didn't say a thing while he talked. He only nodded his head and let him explain.

"So…." His father started when Roman was all done explaining. "What I'm hearing is that whole thing when you wanted to be called Roman….that wasn't a phase?" His father asked, pressing his lips together.

Roman nodded his head.

"Well ...okay then. So, your name is Roman now and you're a boy?"

"Uhm..well yeah. I mean, I guess I've always been a boy really," Roman rubbed his neck and looked down at a stain on the table. " I guess I just realised that I was one." He said, a small smile on his face as he looked back up at his dad.

"And when did you realize this?"

"Uhm, when I was thirteen, I think,"

"Geez, kid. Thirteen? That's some time.."

"Heh...yeah…"

"And that's why you've been buying all those guys clothes-"

"Yep"

"And acting more suspicious. Never letting me see your phone or anything-"

"Uh-huh"

"Wow," his father sighed. "I….I don't know what to say,"

"Look, dad," Roman started. "I know it's weird and new and stuff but I need you to know that I'm not gonna just stop being trans. This is who I am and...if you don't like it then...well then I guess you won't see me for a while." Roman said, putting on a brave face even though he was absolutely petrified.

His father's eyes widened before he started shaking his head. "Kid! Of course you're not gonna stop and I would never make you! I….I know I'm not the most...what's the word? Uhm-"

"Educated?" Roman tried, hope blossoming in his chest.

"Yeah. I'm not the most educated person on the planet but...you're my kid. I'm not gonna stop loving you just because the hospital got it wrong," his father smiled, tearing up a bit at the thought that his da-...son would ever think he could ever not love him.

Roman smiled from ear to ear, practically vibrating in his seat at the amount of joy he was feeling. He launched himself into his dad's arms, crying happy tears as he thanked him over and over. People in the coffee shop who had been overhearing beamed at the father and son as they both laughed and hugged.

After Roman pulled himself together they left, both grabbing a pastry on the way out.

After that Roman decided to stay with his dad for the rest of...well, as long as he stays at home. They had to get his mother's permission but all she said was;

"I don't fucking care what the hell you do with that bitch! She's not my 'son'. I had a daughter, not whatever that is. Do whatever you want with her! Throw her in a garbage can and let the rats have at her, I don't care. Now stop asking me."

Let's just say, there was no argument and Roman was legally allowed to stay with his dad full time. Soon after, though, Remus came along. He says it was because his mom became a bit bitchy and annoying after he told her he was gay, and that was a big reason but he had been planning to runaway and live with his dad ever since Romans mother kicked him out.

Life wasn't perfect and Roman still had his days, but with the help of his dad, brother, and friends he was able to get through it.

(He even got himself a boyfriend, but that's a story for another day)

#this took way too long #ugh #roman angst #slight remus angst #tw remus #tw crying #tw swearing #tw transphobia #tw bad parents #remus didnt mean to do it #he thought he was helping #also patton isnt the dad cus i didnt think #hed mistake roman going by a different nae as just a phase #sander sides fic #tw the duke #tw t-slur #also sorry im on mobile so yeah #tw misgendering

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whoaffle · 4 years

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A non-native talks about Singular-they

Yes, most English speakers know how to use singular-they. Yes, nearly all of us understand it, know how to conjugate verbs accordingly and will do it naturally, instinctively, without hesitation in many situations, such as...

“I don’t know who did this thing, but they sure did a good job.”

Yes, it’s true. It feels completely and absolutely natural to me to use singular-they in that situation. I would do it without thinking!

But here’s the thing... Sometimes it’s really not that easy to use singular-they. I’ve seen people say things like “why can’t you just use it? You know how to use it! You do it in that context” - and yes, it’s true! They do know how to use it in that context!!! And, of course, it’s totally fair to say this to people who are actively refusing to use the pronoun just because they are stubborn and can’t accept someone else’s gender identity. But I kind feel the need to add that... misgendering may, unfortunately, happen by accident as well. So when someone accidentally misgenders a person whose pronoun is “they” and justifies that by saying it’s rather weird for them to use singular-they... Please, don’t immediately attack them. Of course, if they insist on that, or don’t apologize at all, or think there’s nothing wrong with what they did, or tell you that you are overreacting over something that is “just a pronoun”, or any other disrespectful shit like these... Those are red flags. Those signs are very bad. That person is being rude and disrespectful.

But if someone does it by accident, apologizes and corrects themselves, then explain that it’s still kinda hard for them to use that pronoun that way... Please believe it. I’ll explain it:

The singular ‘they’ on the context above is not the exact same as the singular ‘they’ we use with specific people whose pronoun is that.

The difference is that the ‘they’ above means, traditionally, “he or she”: “I don’t know who did this, but he or she sure did a good job”. So even though most people are now much more aware of the existence of other genders beyond masculine and feminine, and therefore understand this “they” as “any person of any gender” and not as “a man or a woman”, there is still a huge amount of people, specially older people, who will say this “they” meaning “he or she” specifically, making it, in fact, something totally different. To these people, the usage of “they” as singular in a sentence depends on not knowing who you’re talking about and, therefore, being unable to classify them as either “man” or “woman”. And THIS is why it’s so weird for many people to accept singular-they.

Again, regardless of how hard it may be, there’s literally no excuse for not trying your best and respecting people! If it’s difficult to understand that, to remember, if it sounds unnatural... That means you are not used to it YET. So the next step is getting used to it, and NOT ignoring it and saying you will refuse to use that pronoun that way.

But welp, going back to what really matters: People who do respect your pronouns but may slip sometimes and misgender you by accident just because they are not used to SPECIFIC singular-they, only to GENERAL singular they.

This may happen because of different reasons. To me, for example, using specific singular-they is rather challenging sometimes because my native language doesn’t have an equivalent to that, besides being heavily gendered. Therefore, my whole life, literally ever word I’ve ever learned, every pronoun and every person, had a gender that was either masculine or feminine. We don’t even have “it” to talk about objects, even objects are classified as either “masculine” or “feminine” words. So yeah. 23 years of that in one’s brain makes it pretty hard to acknowledge that a person can have a gender other than masculine or feminine (or have both, or not have any).

So even though to me it feels really natural to say “If a person falls from the first floor, they will probably survive”, it is really not as natural to talk about someone specific that I know and not apply any gender to them. It’s something I’m making a HUGE effort to get used to, but it’s NEW INFO for my brain. And it will take some time to get used to it and MAKE IT NATURAL. Make it instinctive, intuitive... Like learning some language.

To give you another example of how the heavily gendered languages affect our usage of pronouns, it is VERY common for me to be talking in English about an animal, and sometimes even an object, and accidentally refer to it as “he” or “she”. I sometimes come up with sentences like “I was watching that cat walk by and he jumped over that fence”. I know that I should have used “it”. When I write Pokémon fanfics, I know that I should use “it” to talk about Pokémon, but I usually use either “he” or “she”. And when those words don’t have a Portuguese equivalent, the gender that comes up is nearly random. Why do I refer to Giratina as “ela” (she) and Lugia as “ele” (he) in my native language? Who knows! These are just the pronouns my brain gave them. And funny thing? Even though most of the times when I accidentally call something “he” or “she” I use the pronoun that thing has in my language (cat - gato - he; ball - bola - she; elephant - elefante - he; string-puppet - marionete - she), SOMETIMES I use genders that are not even the ones from my language! For example... Sometimes, when I’m on a “bad-english day”, I may end up saying something like “The kid kicked the ball and he flew through the window” - meaning that THE BALL flew through the window. That is... I called the ball “he”, even though the gender of that word is feminine in my own language.

That all to say that... Language processing is confusing sometimes... And the way we see the world is totally connected with how we classify it, that is... Language. So, heavily-gendered languages DO make it harder for people to get used to singular-they. Because the way our brains have learned to function is “we have an object, we classify it as male or female”. Because in my language, “the child plays with the red ball” is “a(feminine) criança(feminine) brinca com a(feminine) bola(feminine) vermelha(feminine)”. Article? Gendered. Noun? Gendered. Adjective? Gendered. And to make it worse, we add articles in front of people’s names, and those articles are gendered accordingly to a person’s gender. We don’t say “Ariel told me about it.” We say “The Ariel told me about it”. If Ariel is a boy, then “O Ariel”, and if they are a girl... “A Ariel”. Gendered.

So pleeeeeeeeeeaseeeeee.... Please understand that some people, like me, may commit misgendering with they, just like we may commit misgendering with “it” to talk about a ball. That does NOT mean I see the ball as a woman! It’s just because our brains are used to applying binary gender to EVERYTHING!...

So yeah... Older people may have trouble to update the meaning of “they” from “he or she” to “any gender” because of how they grew up and what gender meant to them. And non-natives may have trouble with it because of how their relationship with words works. So unless this person is really doing it to be mean or out of prejudice, just correct them, explain to them, talk to them... You don’t need to forgive, you don’t need to accept it. But please don’t attack them or tag them as transphobic, because using that pronoun can be difficult even if you know how to use it generically.

Thanks a lot for reading. I’ll totally doing my best at using singular-they correctly! ^^

Oh and... PLEASE:

IF I EVER MISGENDER YOU, YOUR FRIEND, YOUR FAVORITE SINGER, A CHARACTER YOU LOVE OR AN OC YOU MADE, YOUR PET OR ANY OTHER LIVING BEING... TELL ME!!!! Warn me and PLEASE CORRECT ME!!!

I don’t want to misgender you! I don’t want to disrespect you! I want to use your pronouns correctly, and I want to know if I did it wrong. Believe me, it’s never on purpose. ♥

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orenonahaichigoda · 5 years

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About Me, and Some Things to Know About (Being Queer in) Japan

日本語でどうぞ。

とは言っても、より多くの人数が読めるように、以下を英語で書きます。

Se habla Español.

30s/trans male/California.

Grew up in Koube. Left in the early '90s for NYC. (Then left there because Giuliani ruined everything)

WHEN THE TRANS TALK STARTED IN JAPAN:

If I had stayed just a*little bit* longer, I probably would have learned that trans men exist, too, and so does hormone therapy. Activist-polititian Kamikawa Aya took her activism to NHK news spots shortly after I left. My grandparents listened to nothing else. (My dad was either NHK or Yomiuri, and I watched Asahi, the latter two not sure if they're national or only Oosaka-Koube broadcast region, but whatever) I mention this because it would be very easy for Ichigo to learn enough to figure it out before high school. And everyone's grandparents watch NHK, And a lot of parents, too. It's like BBC in Britain. PBS is the closest to an American analogue that exists, but the point is public advocacy for trans people became a thing in 1995, so it's not too hard to imagine someone born in the '80s would have enough information to figure it out early in life. Japan was a couple decades ahead of America on that.

FAIR NOTICE ABOUT MY SPANISH:

I'm mixed Japanese and Italian, I picked up Spanish to communicate with my new friends when I came to America. It's not native or anything, no relatives spoke it, and do expect some mixed words from different dialects.

Si estamos escribiendo en Español y se confunden mis palabras, siempre me puede pedir. Por ejemplo, ya sé que la palabra "la bodega" significa cosas diferentes entre Español Puertorriqueño y Español Mexicano.

PAIRING THREADS:

I'm essentially aroace. That doesn't mean I'm not totally down for *well-thought-out* ships. That's not my sole purpose here, but I do welcome it. Well-thought-out is the qualifier, though. And I don't get anything out of PWP, either. I'm only writing all this because I know a fair amount of RP strays into X rated. Shipping, yes, PWP, no.

ETERNAL DISCLAIMER:

My info about Japan varies, but a lot of it may be out of date. I was kinda cut off after leaving until I came to CA, and now more connected with the Web, but anything I say can carry the risk of being up to a few decades out of date.

BEING TRANS IN THE JAPANESE SPEAKING WORLD:

That being said, I can definitely say that while berserko right-wingers, who tend not to leave Japan, as trump voters tend not to leave the US, might be different, know when writing with me that being trans tends not to be a big deal among Japanese people. Now, IN Japan, yes, you'll have to deal with the right-wing Japanese, and in school, kids will pick on each other for anything--kids will pick for someone not liking the "right" bands, but among more progressive Japanese, like the Shin-Issei that I've been around since coming out, telling someone you're trans is not gonna cause fire to rain down on your head. It's gonna be the conservative/regressive bunch that'll be misgendering and all that. Trans kids will get bullied, there will be some also coming from conservative adults, but it doesn't make sense when writers juxtapose 1980s America on Japan.

HOMOPHOBIA AND "YAOI"/"YURI":

Which reminds me, you all have probably seen a lot of "yaoi." Here's the thing: it's gay fetish for straight consumption. Why do you think one guy is always "manly" and the other's "womanly"? It's a homophobic genre. "Yuri" is used for both that kind of thing and actual stuff by and for lesbians, but it's exactly like all those straight men googling"lesbian porn" on RedTube. To this extent, I'd probably need an extra amount of back and forth for shipping with a male character of a female mun. I'm not gonna rule it out, but I'm gonna be a little picky there. Not so much with any other gender. Most NB people I've met tend to really get this kind of thing, although it's a small number that I've met.

ABSOLUTE RULE:

Also, if you wanna play in Japanese, こうして日本語で書くんだ。*全部を* If you can't do that, write in English or Spanish. I've gotten my face punched in for legit broken English. It's not a "cute aesthetic uwu."

HOMOPHOBIA IN JAPAN:

There's a lot of... homophobia came with Admiral Perry for the most part, and it's...gay is not called evil or anything, but it's also difficult to actually *walk down the street holding hands with another man.* I can't speak on it too much, because I only started dating until after high school when I was already here. It's definitely not Regan's America, but it's also not free of homophobia. Unfortunately, I can't quite say how it is.

OTHER ABSOLUTE RULE:

But I also...it really grates my nerves when I see m/m shipping fic throwing around the word "sin" like it's the best thing ever to call queer people. It's not. It's the worst thing ever.

JAPANESE GEOGRAPHY/"KARAKURA TOWN":

One thing that non-Japanese speaking fans of Bleach always miss is what a town is in Japan. So, let's set this up with one a bit south of where I lived that has "town" in its name. Ninomiya Town is in Central Ward of Koube City, which is in Hyougo Province, which is in Japan. There're more divisions, but those are the ones you need to send a letter. It's kinda like how Compton and Wilmington are both in Los Angeles, as in part of the city. Karakura is an imaginary town in Tokyo. I'd say it's like having an American comic set in a place called Lawndale, except THERE IS ACTUALLY A TOWN CALLED THAT. It's one of L.A.'s suburban nearby towns.

NOT A RULE, BUT SOMETHING I DO ASK:

Some RPers really love to abuse the format buttons. I can't read stuff that looks like House of Leaves. Please don't do that with me, even if you do it with others.

Sum:

My life has not been easy. I've actually outlined two big triggers I run into a lot in this fandom (they send me into a rage): the "garnish human default English with exotic Japanese" (which is also bad writing. Look at Edgar Allan Poe. Murders in the Rue Morgue is really terrible writing in many ways, and random French thrown in is one of them) and the "hot sexy sinful gay." I'm also not sure I can handle running Ichigo through a transphobic scenario. Beyond that, I don't think I really have anything that will get my blood pressure up and you instantly blocked. I urge you to also share yours with me and others you play with.

DON'T PANIC WHEN I DON'T IMMEDIATELY REPLY. IT PROBABLY HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU:

Finally, I work on-call. Sometimes, I have eight days off in a row. Sometimes, I'm heading back from getting groceries, and my boss is asking if I can be in the next city over in seven minutes and work graveyard for the next eight days. When I'm at home, I have no kids, partner, roommate, or even pet goldfish. As long as writer's block stays away, I have no impediments to replying. When I find myself with long stretches of work-sleep-work, I'll be sure you know I'm gonna take time to reply. If I find myself suddenly called in, I won't be able to do it same day. If I'm having trouble proceeding the plot, I'll bounce ideas off you. Generally, you'll know what's up by the next day at latest. So don't freak out if I don't reply pronto. I'm kind of a desk jockey sort of, but in social work with severely physically ill people, so it's not exactly a job I can just be looking at the Web during. Lots of emergencies. I don't approve of goofing off at work anyway, but I do always need to have an ear out. (And I already only have one functioning one!)

"YOU LOOK FAMILIAR":

Blog username means "My name is Ichigo." It was the only thing I could think of that named it for its purpose. I've rp'd before, but that blog was attached to other ones where I drew the ire of trolls, or that shared permissions with people who turned out to be very bad people. I didn't have a whole lot on my rp blog, wasn't terribly active, so I decided to start fresh.

Feel free to ask questions!

#about mun #about rules #about Japan #about setting

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lulousims · 5 years

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The beginning of the Tottenburg family

So, this is my first post on this Tumblr account and I’m feeling once again like an awkward newbie - this is nostalgic.

The Tottenburg family name came to me almost immediately when I went into CAS. Traditionally, as a child, I liked creating one Sim and making them master all skillsets, reach the top of their career and pretty much find out all the possible game features through them. Of course it got old, so I eventually developed an interest for huge family trees, since I really liked to explore the premade Sims’ ones on TS2, and creating storylines for each of them (writing is pretty much my favorite hobby). Anyway, now you know the backstory; into the CAS page.

Ironically, I created one Sim initially and launched him into the world. His name was Lucien and he was supposed to be me - or at least a version of me -, I made our initials the same for that reason. He aspired to be a great writer, but since writing on his own wasn't profitable enough, I made him get a job as a politician. I completely ignored the writing career and I'm not sure if it's because I'm just dumb or if I did it on purpose. No problem though, because even though I myself have no political aspirations, the thought of making the world a better place really appeals to me.

He was an activist as a politician, advocating for his cause No Sim Left Behind. He got to sell some books, but his fixed job came first, sadly. Focusing on the two was very hard, especially because he was trying to save money to move and to find a wife. He eventually found a woman he liked very much, her name was Izumi. They made friends really quickly. As he was preparing to propose to her, though, she asked him if he'd like to come to her birthday party (she was already an adult and Lucien was a young adult). They got married after she grew old and it proved to not be a problem, since Lucien could get pregnant and Izumi could impregnate others.

The picture above is the only one I have of Lucien, in which he is kissing his first wife.

They had their first child, Ian, who was a very active baby. His square jaw was one of my most loved features on him when he grew up to be a teenager. He loved exercising and dancing. His mother died when he was still a child. So Lucien married his old friend Uriel Fausto, and they had a beautiful baby girl called Ursula. Ursula was trans and I was pissed to see the game misgender her consistently throughout her childhood. I don't agree with the fact that you can't change a child's gender until they're teens; that has nothing to do with their bodies.

Anyway, at least Ursula was free to wear whatever she liked, with her parents full support, since they were both trans. She was bold, confident and had very strong opinions and behavior. She was also very jealous of the people she loved.

Unfortunately, Lucien was very unlucky when it came to his marriages. For some reason, he would always date much older women, and that's why Uriel died of old age just like his first wife. Damn, Lucien. You lost two wives already. Time to stop marrying and focus on your books.

Well, he managed to resurrect Uriel the first time by pleading to the reaper. Uriel was very thankful and used all that emotion as fuel to paint much more. She was a painter, I forgot to mention. But then she died again and he couldn't save her this time. It's okay. It's life. My game progressed really fast back then, I guess it's because I had less people living in the household.

Lucien grew into an elder and Ursula became a child. Without his wives, Lucien decided he wanted to make his dreams come true and he'd waste no time working on something that didn't really make him happy. So he quit the politician career, got a job as a writer and kept writing books at home. I made quite some progress, but he died before he could fulfill his lifetime aspiration.

Ursula and Ian were devastated, but they managed. The family had quite the amount of money (I used cheats to make them move into a big house and I didn't know how to make them lose some), so they survived even with no one working. Lucien, Izumi and Uriel were missed.

#lucien tottenburg #tottenburg #ts4 #i pretty much copied and pasted what i said about him on my private twitter acc lmao #also lucien isn't straight and neither am i #we're both pan #we're also both trans #gen0

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cherrysunshinepleasantries-blog · 5 years

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Just some thoughts

I’ve never given much thought to being gay.

I suppose that is something to be positive about, selfish even, for me to admit this. I am able to receive this privilege because of our ancestors, who have fought and died for everyone who has suffered because of fate for what many people today consider a ‘trend’.

It’s a weird initiative, on the second day of 2019.

Not something I was expecting.

I woke up this rather late this morning, short hair sticking up in a rather uncanny resemblance of the result of electric socket, red-and-white checked pyjamas crawling up my legs, to a text from one of my best friends.

Of course, she’s such a genuine, loyal friend that there obviously has to be a catch – she lives half a world away.

I’d texted her the night before about something random, something unimportant, a pastime I was considering signing up for.

I wasn’t predicting her response.

I’ve known she’s been gay for a while, she told me years ago in passing conversation. Of course – there’s always a catch. As someone who was so invested in religion (and of course we’re all aware of people’s interpretations from the Bible, and the results of these interpretations) - I’m sorry to say I was one of those people who didn’t react in the best way.

I would never have told her in person (or screen, technically), but my initial internal reaction was something to be ashamed of. I felt bile in my stomach, rocking and splashing like an uncontrollable wave. To continue with the awful water metaphor, I felt like a ship lost on the waters. I wasn’t even a ship – more like a small rowing boat. No, wouldn’t even grant myself that. We’ll leave that metaphor open to your own interpretation.

Then everything changed.

I know that may sound a little dramatic, but it’s true. Basically add every cliché idiom you can think of, and that’s your answer, leading me to who I am today, a huge supporter of the LGBT+ community, who have taught me so much.

However, today I have learned I am still desperately ignorant.

I’m so lucky to be able to say this, and until today I never realised how much, but my loved ones (maybe excepting my grandparents) would be extremely supportive of me, especially my parents. My parents are Christians, or have been raised Christian at least, but, again, I am so lucky that I have never received strict, immoral dogmatic teaching. My parents have let me make my own decisions regarding my faith, never forcing anything on me, and I will be eternally grateful. After all my parents and I been through; I can say this in great confidence. Of course, I would have my fair share of people who wouldn’t be okay with it, but, as Dodie Clark says “the people who don’t matter, mind, and the people who do matter, don’t mind.” I’m okay with losing friends. I have enough people to love me, including myself.

Well, most of my friends are gay so that’s a bonus.

Speaking of friends, my friend confided in me, and told me that she’d come out to her parents and immediate family, and some took it well, others didn’t. I’m pretty sure one of them essentially disowned her.

I’m calling myself out for being ignorant again – but she always seemed so confident in her sexuality I’d assumed everyone knew.

It makes me so angry.

The last ‘coming out’ experience I had – it was an accident, my friend let it slip, she was drunk, but I’m in such a position of privilege I’m okay when people mention it. I mean I’m a walking gay stereotype – I was in a black pinafore and my hair was chopped to my collarbone a few hours previous. Also, when I’m around girls I adore, I’m so gay.

I’d seen him on and off, but I’d got friendly with him at the last party I was at, and we just started talking at this one too. A girl had asked to kiss me, but she was drunk and personally, it’s not something I’m okay with – whether from my past or from my own insecurities.

I’m pretty sure he referred to it as ‘sexy’. I mean, I’m not sure what to make of that. Personally, I would have no problem with that comment, but I know others detest it. I’ve just never been bothered with comments about who I have the potential to fall in love with. I can fall in love with anyone and everyone, as long as they have a good heart and a great personality - to be honest. It just takes me a while.

I’m pretty sure the worst I’d get would be “we don’t agree but we love you anyway”. I know, in the perspective of many people, that would be the worst thing in the world to hear, and I’m not disregarding that at all, oh my goodness no, no one deserves to hear that, it’s just I’ve reached a point where the people who would say that couldn’t hurt me anymore than they already have – albeit unintentionally.

I know it sounds like a pathetic, half-hearted excuse when I say this, but trust me, in this instance, and the instance before, it’s a generational thing. It’s not something I agree with, and they know this, but in return, I love them anyway.

I’m not promoting toxic or abusive family relationships, and if you’re in one, please do what’s best for you, but I know my family are honest, moral people at the core and although we may have disagreements, as any family does, they can believe what they wish in regards to this – and I know the truth (as I like to say). In a sense, they’re like how I was, the difference is I’ve learned what I was unintentionally doing was completely harmful and had resulted in one of the worst prejudices to shift.

I’m also not blaming religion. I was raised Catholic, I know what people teach, and I’m not going to disregard their beliefs (I am going to, personally) because I remember how much self-hatred the Bible caused me, or rather, the people who hid behind the Bible, using it as a weapon. I hate that I have to remind people of this, but the core of the bible, the most important commandment, as reported in the Sermon of the Mount by Matthew, states “Love your God, and love your neighbour as yourself”. It also states “Love is fulfilment of the Law” – the Law representing the Ten Commandments on Mount Sinai, and Mosaic Law, which consists of almost the entirety of Leviticus, and referenced many times throughout the Old Testament.

I’m not going to go into detail about the amount of verses on love, but trust me, as someone who has read the Bible quite a few times as a kid (never forced – I was a inquisitive child), there are loads.

Jesus befriended and showed compassion to everyone.

People can’t use religion as an excuse.

I’m sorry, but it’s invalid.

Also, if we want to talk Leviticus, we can discuss the mistranslation from the original writings to the books we have and hold dear today.

I suppose, I’m a cautionary tale in a sense – or rather, who I was becoming. I urge you, don’t be like me. Don’t use the Bible as a weapon. Talk to people who aren’t ‘like you’. Ask them questions. Learn. Education is the most valuable asset, and too many people aren’t granted that opportunity. In Western culture, we have this. It’s not right to misuse it.

And maybe, a bit of empathy goes a long way - from both sides of the debate. I understand completely why that might not be possible, in no way am I insinuating they deserve to treat you like that, but sometimes (like me) - it can be a lack of understanding rather than anything else. Please be open to that.

For anyone who is confused about their sexuality, or gender, or even nothing to do with the LGBT+, such as body positivity, mental illness, and are confused about anything under the sun, I’m here for you. You aren’t alone.

I can be ignorant about some topics, particularly gender, it’s an area I’ve never questioned, but I urge you to teach me. Tell me how you feel. Tell me if I misgender you (I will never do anything like that on purpose, I can promise that). Teach me so as I don’t make the same mistakes. Tell me how I can help you. In return, go easy on me. I’m not going to deny it, I will have lapses in judgement and I will make mistakes. There’s no debate. I ask of you, give me the opportunity to learn. And, in future, if someone may display any ‘minor’ prejudice, a strange look as you hold your partner’s hand, confusion when you ‘come out’ for the twelfth time to the new friends you’ve made, an accidental slip of the tongue – please treat them with kindness (just don’t put yourself in danger). They may be eager to learn too.

<3 x

#mental health #lgbtpride #thoughts

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mariska · 2 years

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i woke up at 10 am today which was Big for me cus i have severe complications with sleep being autistic and having an adhd brain so it was nice to have a little more time in the morning where i got 7 and a half to 8 ish hrs of sleep. but i did just spend those past 2 hours reading/liking ppls reviews for Seed Of Chucky on Letterboxd for no reason and also blocking random ppl who were like, especially mean about it, and i still need to go brush my teeth so i can eat and start the day but. it made me Think. and i wanted to share my Thoughts before they immediately leave my head as they tend to do often

very much not surprising that a large amount of the ppl giving that movie scathing reviews have bios on their profiles that are something along the lines of 'just another cis white guy movie lover' or 'b-movie gorey horror fan' or 'weird movie obsession guy' and like, i think because i am autistic and i've struggled with agoraphobia for a decade and don't experience much socialization outside of the internet in general, especially these days when i have to stay inside my house almost 24/7 for safety, i just kind of assume that even when people are like. saying/writing really mean targeted thoughts about a movie or a show or something i tend to think 'oh, they're just playing up the general dislike of it for comedic effect like i do. they dont *really* have this much burning hate for this movie or its themes im sure'.

but i am wrong!! i am definitely wrong. seed of chucky is a super bonkers, very inappropriate goofy horror movie so i 100% understand that just because its a fav of mine doesnt mean it is to other people or that other people aren't inherently uncomfortable by it or just flat out didnt have fun watching it. thats fine its a movie idc. but seeing a bunch of self proclaimed Boring Cis People saying things like 'i dont know why they tried to do some weird message about gender', 'worst piece of shit i've ever seen', 'don mancini is a hack', 'why did they feel like they had to start some androgynous family drama plot with the [misgendering]'

it bothers me quite a bit actually lol!! i'll be fully honest!! yea its a silly horror movie and im an autistic person who sometimes takes things too seriously but i dont think im taking this too seriously In My Honest Opinion! it makes me feel like dog shit to see those same people praise other purposely trashy/comedic/ over dramatic/ gorey horror flicks that have cishet plots where its all women who are naked, women who are killed, women who are assaulted, over and over and over and the minute a gay man makes an lgbt themed trashy gorey horror movie with other lgbt people FOR other lgbt people its suddenly unnecessary and stupid and disgusting and hard to watch. why? why is seed of chucky disgusting and hard to watch but straight white men jacking off over the corpse of a brutalized woman character in a trashy horror flick from 1972 not disgusting to them, in their own words? i mean i know exactly why but at the very least i wish bigots would be honest and straight forward about how much they hate us and the media we make instead of pretending like theres a valid reason for it. its a silly dumb horror movie and it's also literally the only movie i have personally seen (not the only movie *ever*, just that i've seen before) where my existence as a real human being in the world is not only acknowledged but is actually understood on multiple levels by the person making the movie. chucky and tiffany are bi and also are literally dolls so obviously that isnt my lived life experience as a person with lesbian parents but the director don mancini is gay. lgbt people can see the hints and nods to us that he put in the previous movies. we understand the metaphors he made to try and include us when he wasn't allowed to be direct about it in the earlier movies. seed of chucky is legitimately pretty respectful about nonbinary people (and nonbinary kids!! you are never too young to be lgbt and again this is presented that way because a gay person wrote it!!! hello!!!) AND the whole plot basically revolves around the concept of donor dads aka sperm donors, specifically donor dads that are not anonymous. that's my story! that's literally my real actual life story. i, a real living nonbinary gay person, was born in 1997 to lesbian parents who could not biologically have a kid together and my donor father was not anonymous to anyone involved. not only have i never seen another movie even acknowledge that there are people born into the world like this but in my own personal life i have never met another person born via a donor dad who actually knew who their dad was and i cannot relate to 99% of the media, content or stories of other non anonymous donor born people because of that. nobody talks about it! when anyone does try to talk about it its immediately shut down as disgusting and immoral IF people we are trying to educate even decide that to acknowledge us as being real and existing in the first place.

like i'll say it a hundred times over, i get that its not a serious piece of oscar worthy drama media. its still not True To Life™️ because theres Evil Horror Movie Magic™️ driving the plot. i really do get it. i dont take it seriously like this, but i have a huge problem with cishet ppls opinions on it being the worst most disgusting concept they could ever imagine in any movie in history. glen/da instantly became a new fav character of mine when i watched it because i'm 24 and a half years old and i don't get to see characters that are almost my exact age, nonbinary, and canonical donor born in any other media!! it just doesnt happen. its really lonely when you are neurologically disabled and have a very difficult time connecting with people and talking to people and forming relationships with people in general and then on top of being treated like shit throughout your life because of that, you get treated like shit because you're gay, and your parents are gay, and the place you live doesn't want to protect you if it doesnt legally have to, and you go 24 years being purposely pushed out of circles of socialization and communities that might accept you and society in general and then you cant even watch a movie about it and feel like your existence as a person on earth is fine!!! it fucking blows!!!! these self centered assholes literally cannot even imagine how horrible it feels sometimes if they tried their absolute hardest!!!

GOD. man. i dont know. theres not really a point i have to make here i'm just yelling into the void so that it's not all just stuck in my head. all i know is that watching seed of chucky was the first time in my life where i didnt feel like i had to carry the burden of educating people on my existence against my will and it makes me feel pretty upset that there are so many 'gross gorey silly slasher horror fans' that cant just think 'i didnt like that movie personally' and move on without throwing a temper tantrum because it was the one time i got representation instead of them in a movie. am i seriously supposed to truly, honestly believe that the majority of cishet male Chucky fans are disgusted by the sight of semen???? cmon now. not a very convincing lie

#whatever i have to go brush my teeth. i feel like a sim when theyre angry #and all the normal interactions get replaced with 'brush teeth furiously' LMFAO #long post

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twelvesignsrp · 7 years

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congratulations codee/cody, gemini is now alexandre/alexander “alex” vega with the faceclaim lucas bernardino

APPLICATION

Character Sign: Gemini

Character name: Alexandre/Alexander “Alex” Vega

Birthday: June 10th, 1997

Sexuality: Bisexual, Bi-romantic, Trans Guy

Gender: FTM

Moon Sign: Aries

Faceclaim: Lucas Bernardino

Power: Telekinesis - and not like Mary-Sue Jean Gray powers. This dude’s power is almost completely linked to his emotional state, and he has a very hard time controlling it because he has a hard time controlling his emotions. He’s not powerful enough to lift big things, like a car (or even his own body weight most of the time), with his mind, but when his emotions are out of control, the immediate area can become that way as well. Think poltergeist powers - if he’s angry, chairs blow away from him. If he’s sad, books come falling off of shelves. If he’s horny, every shirt in the immediate area comes unbuttoned “accidentally”. Ahem.

What do they study? Technically, he’s international studies because he wants to travel all the places, though he has changed majors a few times to get to that one now. The only constant thing is his custom minor/possibly major he’s building through dance.

Biography:

Trigger warniiiiing: Drugs, sexual themes, gender dysphoria, child abuse and neglect, gang shit. Oh yeah, and swears.

Alex isn’t one you’d call humble at all. He’s stubborn and snarky, though he doesn’t actually hold himself in very high regard compared to everyone else. He knows there’s nothing particularly special about him, but he’ll rarely let that self-doubt leak through his exterior. If you choose to worship him, hey - that’s your own fault. But if you don’t, he’ll probably just be the biggest pain in the ass you’ve ever met. Either way, you’re not likely to forget him soon. Speaking of pains in the ass, Alex is also gay as fuck, and generally lets people know this whether through words or the way his eyes undress you from afar. Chicks are okay, really, but he prefers the D, though he can pull off the part of the womanizer if he needs to in order to get something he wants. He’s also incredibly flighty when it comes to relationships, meaning that nothing ever lasts long with him before he either gets bored or freaks out over his own commitment issues and dumps your sweet ass.

In the bedroom, he prefers bottom but he’ll never fully admit to that, and topping can always be fun, too. Outside of the sheets, however, he’s confident and arrogant, but in a way that some people somehow find charming. His smile can charm the pants off of you - literally (considering his power) - or it can boil your blood. There is no in-between with Alex. He’s all extremes and sharp corners. The worst thing you can do is misgender him - that will get you a sucker punch straight to the nose. If you want to get on his good side… if you think he has one, that is, then booze and cigs are never a bad idea.

However, being the Gemini that he is, Alex also has a total flipside to his personality. When his guard isn’t up, which is not often, he can be the dorkiest, most awkward person you’ve ever met. If you ever get to see this side of him, you might wonder which side of Alex is the *real* Alex, and which is just the show meant to entertain. In all honesty, Alex probably couldn’t even answer that question for himself. Both aspects of his personality are so ingrained into him that he really couldn’t just be one or the other.

Alex tends to have trouble with emotional control, as well. He has a very short fuse, and that results in a lot of angry words and shouting, or very aggressive dance-offs. He definitely has a dark side that no one wants to see, and often says words he doesn’t really mean when he’s in the heat of an argument. He hates the fact that he has so little control over his emotions, and works hard to slap on a smirk or redirect attention using jokes, flirtations, or distractions in order to keep you from uncovering his real emotions in a situation. He’s perfected this to nearly a T.. at least until this pesky telekinesis popped up. Now, even when he is saving face, his powers tend to give him away to anyone who’s made the connection.

When Alex was born, things were a little different for him. His mother was a hard-working laborer - and young - when she got pregnant with a pair of twins. Only one of the babies ended up surviving, and it was said that Alex sort of absorbed the materials from his twin brother. The pregnancy was difficult on a young, poor, single mother, and when the baby was finally born, she could not take care of him. Rather than giving him up for adoption or to a church, however, she decided that she was desperate enough to sell the child for a small sum of money. Thus began Alex’s strained childhood, and it would be the first of many times that Alex exchanged hands.

At first, the baby was going to be sold into the slave market running rampant in America, but very quickly, an elderly mother of two preteen boys found out about the child, and decided that she would raise Alex on her own. The woman, who had come to be known as “Abuela” to the kids on the street, was a poor woman living in a rundown neighborhood in Laredo, Texas, watching constant drug wars and fights happen along the border, on both sides. As a result, Alex grew up practically on the streets, learning everything from his two older “brothers”. By the age of four years old, it was clear that Alex was very different from the other dirty-faced children that ran through the streets around his home. While he had been assigned female at birth, Alex had nothing in common with the other girls. He was much more prone to rough-housing and hard labor than he was to sewing or playing with dolls or dressing sweetly. His clothes were constantly dirty, which earned him whoopin’s with sticks and switches from bushes until the backs of his legs were black and blue, and he submitted to doing as he was told.

Despite this, however, Alex never lost his stubborn flare. As he grew up under his abuela, aka grandmother, he became more and more defiant, not more obedient. He would tear the dresses she forced him into, on purpose, destroy his own stockings, and jump in every mud puddle that he could find. Those around him began to take notice, but it was assumed that he was just a stubborn, misbehaving child. His legs were nearly purple with the amount of beatings he took, and sometimes he would have trouble walking or sitting properly for hours from it. Still, the fire in his spirit was there, and at ten years old, he led his first revolt against the “establishment”. Sneaking into one of his older brother’s rooms, he stole Luiz’s clothes and dressed himself, and threw his dress into the trash.

Not entirely certain how this plan was supposed to work out, Alex ran off to play with his friends, only to come home later that day to a *fuming* abuela, switch in-hand. After all, she had worked hard to give him the clothing that he had, so why would he throw her effort away so easily?

Luckily for him, Luiz interceded on his behalf, convincing the old woman to let Alex be for once. And when she finally left them alone, his brother turned to him with a smirk.

“So, you wanna be one of the guys, huh? Well, let’s see what you got, Hermanito.” (“Little brother”)

It was the first time anyone had ever called him what he wanted to be called, and it sent Alex’s heart fluttering. His brother may have said it jokingly, but the ten year old didn’t care. He eagerly followed Luiz from that day forward, running the streets with him, joining his friends, his gang, and causing trouble. Luiz’s only rules were that Alex could not be in danger, nor would he allow him to smoke or drink like the other kids.

When Alex turned twelve, something shocking happened. He actually began to bleed, for no particular reason, from between his legs. There had never been much talk of what would happen to the children once they hit puberty, and Alex had seen his brothers grow up, so he had thought everything would be the same for him. After all, what difference was there between himself and Luiz? None, as far as he was aware. Thinking that the blood meant that he was dying from a ruptured organ, Alex resigned himself to solitary confinement in his bedroom. It wouldn’t last, of course. His abuela quickly found out what had happened, and told him that he’d had his first “period”, and that this marked his first steps into becoming a *woman*. Alex was horrified. A woman? That was wrong. He was a boy. He had always known he was a boy no matter what the others had said. Luiz knew he was a boy, so why didn’t his body? There hadn’t been any difference between himself and his brothers, as far as he knew. He didn’t understand what made him a woman and Luiz a man. But his confusion was ignored. He was a woman, his abuela insisted, and now he would need to learn to be one. Enough of this foolish child’s game.

He started getting restricted to indoor time when his brothers got to roam the world, free. After all, his grandmother reasoned, he was a woman and women weren’t treated right on the streets. Alex was miserable. He discovered that the bleeding wasn’t going to just stop. This was a monthly occurrence, as was the pain associated with it, and the strange need to cry over everything when he had never cried unless beaten before. Things no longer made sense. People started looking at him differently, as if there really was a difference between himself and the other boys he hung out with. Even the boys he had called his friends for so long began to take notice.

His body began to go through other changes as well. Corners were somehow closer when he walked through a room, cutting painfully into hips he hadn’t had before. His chest began to grow, sore and strange, and his face rounded out. Every time he looked in the mirror, it was as if he was staring into a pair of eyes that weren’t actually his. He had somehow, at some point, jumped into a developing female body without knowing it. This was wrong.

When he was sixteen years old, he decided he’d had enough. He wanted to be who he was without pressure from his family or the people that he grew up with. He wanted more from his life than just these drug runs and neighborhood wars. He wanted to go somewhere else, to make a new name for himself and have a new life. So he packed up what few belongings he had, got a fake ID from Luiz, and set out to a different city.

Austin, Texas, was highly different than the border towns, and provided so many opportunities that Alex had never had before. Not only were schools better, but there were jobs that didn’t involve drugs or standing around in parking lots, waiting for contractor work. Here, there were bistros and dance clubs and art museums and… freedom. He set up shop, putting himself through the rest of high school on his own, joining drama teams and dance teams, and sports. He worked tirelessly, multiple jobs at a time until one day he met Francis.

Technically, the guy’s name was Francois Belevaire, originally from Marseille, France - a local talent scout that had heard through the grapevine that Alex was a dancer. A few weeks of discussion later and Alex had replaced two of his jobs with a dancing gig - a… “special” kind of dancing.

Alex refused to be dressed as one of the girls in the club, however, so he worked out with Francis that he would only go on stage if Francis allowed him to do it in drag. Keep Austin weird, right? Intrigued by the prospect, Francis decided to give it a trial run, and it was the most successful gig he’d ever had at his little club. By day, Alex was a student looking to move on to secondary education, and by night, he was “Alexandre the Great”, drag king. Alex took to the act like a fish to water. Tight leather pants, mohawks, and athletic tape to keep him in place? Check. It didn’t matter that he still had to strip for the crowd, or that he had to keep this gig a complete secret if he wanted to graduate with honors. When he was on stage, people actually liked who he portrayed himself as. They didn’t force him to be the girl that he had been born as. It was a total confidence booster in who he was becoming, physically, which just increased with the introduction of T shots to his system. A year later, and he actually somewhat looked like the man he wanted to be, too.

Graduation came and went, and Alex worked at getting into college. This life was so different than anyone was leading back home, and he knew he had worked his ass off hard enough to get a scholarship - so long as the school didn’t find out about his sordid night club routine. The last year of sports in high school had really been helped by the introduction of testosterone to his system, and his dancing had actually gotten better, as well. Application after application was sent out, but Alex never received the news he wanted. Scholarships were hard to land, and for the kind of school he wanted to get into, they were even harder.

For a year, he did nothing but apply to colleges all over the world and work his tail feathers off until, finally, the letter came. He was accepted. To *Durham* University - one of the leading universities worldwide, on a dance scholarship.

Alex was overjoyed. It seemed all his hard work had paid off. No, it wouldn’t cover all of the costs of the school, but most of it was covered, and he was sure he could get loans for the rest. Using the money he had saved up over the last year, Alex made his way to England to start his education.

And this year? Things can only get better. He’s already got friends, he’s into sports, and - hey! There’s a beach trip coming up in March. That should be fun, right?

Five interesting facts about your character: Are you kidding? Is he not totally interesting already? ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED??? Okay, fine. Here goes.

Alex is super ticklish.

He hates beets.

He believes the pyramids are alien landing pads.

He swipes right on Tindr for EVERYONE, but mostly just to troll them.

He knows every word to Moulin Rouge.

Character Quote: ~Look in the mirror, what do you see? Who is this stranger looking back at me?~

If your character had a patronus what would it be? and why? (Okay, I don’t really know what this is but HERE GOES)

TBD. (Admin note)

WRITING SAMPLE

Okay, no. No, that’s impossible. That… no. You’re just imagining things.

Alex stood stock still, frozen to the floor, as he stared straight ahead. He was alone in the kitchen, he knew that. So how in the hell had that happened? There had to be some trick, he was sure of it. Someone was messing with him. There were ropes or fishing line… maybe magnets. No, wait, magnets didn’t stick to wood. Right. Maybe… wheels? But there were no wheels under the legs of the chair. He could see that much. Wires… except he was staring right at the damn chair and there were NO wires. What the hell did that mean??? Who had just done this?

He swallowed back the paranoia creeping on the edges of his consciousness, and glanced around again. Nothing. No one. He was alone. He was alone… and standing in front of four chairs. All he did was accidentally stub his toe. A shock of pain had launched through his body, and at the same time, as if in a fucking horror movie, all four chairs shot away from the kitchen table so hard that they were now in a pile as if someone had tossed them haphazardly into the corner of the room.

His Spaghetti-O’s had landed face-down on the kitchen floor, splattered out before him like some sort of blood spatter from a homicide. The murder of Chef Boyardee. But Alex didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy wondering if his kitchen was now haunted. Did he even know of any exorcists around here? Did he even know of any churches? Maybe he should find a priest and get some holy water. Because that had to be the only plausible explanation for what he had just witnessed. Ghosts. All other options were exhausted.

….Weren’t they?

ANYTHING ELSE?

Black. LIKE MY SOUL.

#accepted #gemini

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drink-n-watch · 4 years

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It occurs to me that I have no sense of seasonal orientation when it comes to this season of My Hero Academia. Other series seem to be ending so the season must be close to an end, yet I still feel like we’re in the opening episodes. That can be either a good or a bad thing. Still, to me, it’s like season 4 of My Hero Academia is still in its opening arc. Crow, do you get what I mean?

It’s funny you ask — I was just wondering about that today. For the other shows I’m reviewing, I’m preparing to close out the season and write the episode guides. For this one? It’s like it’s beyond mere seasons… Which, of course, is a hopelessly hyperbolic thing to day. Oh, I’m bold this week, there will be spoilers, and such…

And no shock — but you were right. Horribly, horribly right. Unless you think we should put this sentence later, since it’s pretty momentous and it might be better for later…

Ok, I said it could be a good or a bad thing…for me, it’s usually a good thing. Opening arcs and intros are often my favourite part of the story. I was that weird kid that really loved the Harry Potter series before he even learned of the existence of Hogwarts. I loved it after as well, but those early Dursley days have a special place in my heart.

assume a season’s worth of buildup could be frustrating for some viewers but I’m eating it up…

I think it’s the potential. Before the story gets underway, anything could happen. Once it chooses a route and gets moving, though, each plot point eliminates one or more possibilities. The closer to the end, the fewer possibilities. At least, that’s how it is for me.

I was planning to make this point in my closing paragraph. Crow, I’m sorry. It’s a good thing you’re here to keep some order!

Not sure I’m helping in that regard this week! Or if indeed I’m the one keeping order in general!

Oh guys, Crow is here and awesome as always. He’s also bold like our heroes. And we’re probably going to spoil episode 74 of My Hero Academia so if you haven’t seen it yet and want to go in blind, please go watch it now. Ok, one spoiler, it’s a great episode…

Are you sure you should have let that slip so soon? Just kidding.

The narrative framework of this week’s episode was pretty simple in fact. A brief opening tag reestablishes the context of the cooperation between the league of villains and the yakuza, then quickly moves on to the doublecross, allowing EraserHead, Nighteye and Deku to take out Irinaka fairly easily. Then the focus switches to Mirio/Lemillion who has to fight a number of yakuza solo in order to save Eri. In the process, we get a few brief flashbacks establishing both Chiaki and Mirio’s respective backgrounds and motivations rather effectively and showing how they are funhouse mirror images of each other.

That’s all really. Yet that’s not even scratching the surface.

I mentioned this before but Overhaul’s voice actor is doing some tremendous work this season. I thought so yet again in the opening scenes of this episode as we see him talking with Twice and Toga. He sort of chews his words and talks from the back of his throat for a uniquely menacing effect.

So much of the delivery in MHA is theatrically earnest and straight forward for obvious reasons, it’s part of the show’s identity after all, even in the villains, so the contrast is almost enerving. And really successful in my opinion.

I think the voice actors did a great job in general this week, but I gotta agree that Overhaul’s voice actor, Kenjirou Tsuda, did a fantastic job this week.

I was curious about both Twice and Toga being able to easily resist confession when asked about Shigaraki planning a double-cross. I’m not sure if they got off on a technicality. As in Shigaraki never used the word “betrayal” or something like that, if they have some type of ace in the hole against this quirk, or if their singular devotion to the league has made them immune.

I had the impression that Shigaraki never told them to betray or doublecross Overhaul. Shigaraki just said he trusted them. I took that to mean in the literal sense, which is why they’re so loyal to him. I also took it in the more broad sense that he trusted them to be themselves, and let’s face it: being themselves meant getting revenge for Magane.

Considering how insubordinate they both tend to be, and how loose an organization the League of Villains is in general, the latter seems unlikely. Then again, they both got immediately angry when their fallen friend was misgendered by Chiaki. And not a cartoonishly exaggerated rage either. A genuine show of pain and solidarity and protection for Magne. It was a small human moment that reminded us that what holds the league together is something that may ultimately prove much more terrifying than simple greed, vengeance or ambition.

Um yeah, so that was the first few minutes… Let’s move this on.

I was a little disappointed that we really didn’t get a chance to see Eraser Head in action at all, or how he works with Deku. All of Deku’s Big Hero Moments in the series so far have been solo. I was looking forward to seeing how well he plays with others. It would be a pretty big subversion of his archetype if it turns out that Deku can’t share the spotlight. I might be here for that!

But the real meat of the episode was of course Mirio. I really like Mirio as a name by the way.

I didn’t know how to feel about an episode dedicated to Mirio. I mean, he’s sort of redundant with Deku so why not just give us some Deku character building. Our series’ protagonist has been largely absent all season, that’s a little weird.

I keep wondering if that’s the point — that Deku’s One for All is expressed very differently from All Might’s was, or Mirio’s might have been. That might be a bit too meta for this series, but maybe not.

So first off, Mirio gets to square off against Shin Nemoto, the creepy old timey doctor guy who can make people tell him the truth when he asks a question, (By the way, plague doctor designs seem to be in this season…) as well as Deidoro Sakaki, who has contagious drunkness.

You know, as soon as we saw his Quirk, I immediately wondered if he was a fan of your site. Or whatever form your site is in that world.

You would think drunk guy’s quirk would be right up my alley but I must say, he’s my least favourite so far. He basically makes you skip the fun part of drunk (i.e. pleasantly buzzed, when you and everyone around you are both beautiful and fascinating. The point where you should absolutely switch to water and make sure you are not even getting near car keys for a good long while) and plants you right in the bad part, you should never drink again, drunk. I have to imagine, this must be one of the most unpleasant quirks to be a victim of, especially in a tense and dangerous situation.

I thought that confession was a pretty great quirk, to begin with, as we saw it used early on, for its information gathering purposes. But I hadn’t considered that it could be used as a mind break. To force someone to confront a truth they’d rather ignore. That was brilliant! And it probably would have been devastating on anyone else. I think it could have easily stopped Deku for instance. But Mirio isn’t Deku…

So Mirio managed to get past the first two and unexpectedly catch up to Chiaki and Hari Kurono, his henchman, as they were taking little Eri away.

Ok, let me try to organize my thoughts here. This was a pretty epic fight and a lot of things happened. For one, Chiaki insisted that he had no children, therefore Eri isn’t his daughter. Which made sense to me as I really couldn’t imagine Chiaki in a romantic relationship. But then why would Nighteye assume this? Is Overhaul just playing mind games? I was thinking about this for embarrassingly long before I realized…of course, Chiaki isn’t Eri’s dad. Regardless of any genetic context, that’s just not what a dad is… duh… I’m slow sometimes…

In your defense, there are a ton of bad dads out there! I don’t know of any who would subject their daughters to the kind of experimentation Eri had endured, but it’s not outside the realm of possibility!

To me, this entire fight showed us two men who could have been friends. Who in some ways, were very much alike. Both are very skilled physical fighters who obviously dedicated a huge amount of time and energy to training because they felt they had to. Both are smart strategists, able to adapt their quirk to the situation and use it while considering both the context of the fight and the surroundings. And both understand that winning doesn’t come down to destroying the opponent as fast as possible.

Did you notice how Mirio, Overhaul, and Kurono all mentioned, at least in passing, how much time the other must have put into their training? I think that supports the point you’re making. So much so that I wonder what else they’re going to do with that idea.

Beyond that though, I sort of think that they would have gotten along if they grew up together. Chiaki is obviously someone who is filled with gratitude and actually fairly selfless. An idealist, His motivations have nothing to do with personal gain and his position of leadership is uncomfortable as he is awkward and clumsy with expressing emotions. Not completely unlike Tamaki… or Deku. But he’s also dedicated and willing to work tirelessly for a cause he believes in. Sound familiar?

On the other hand, Mirio is, well, a product of failure. Having had the privilege of being surrounded by love and support, Mirio doesn’t take any of it for granted. When something was twice as hard for him to do, he simply worked twice as much. He considers his challenges blessings and his setbacks accomplishments. He cannot be broken by facing his flaws because he never thought of himself as perfect and that was never even the point in his mind. It’s not about being worthy, it’s not about him, he doesn’t want to be a symbol. It’s about helping others whatever way you can.

In the end, Mirio’s power had absolutely nothing to do with his quirk.

I thought that was a beautiful thing when Shin asked, “What is he?!” about Mirio. Even Quirkless, he didn’t lose his close quarter combat skills. They were never part of his Quirk.

Speaking of losing his Quirk, shouldn’t we mention that happened? Nemoto caught up with Mirio, even though Lemillion thought he’d knocked the villain out. Overhaul threw Nemoto a single Quirk-stealing bullet. Nemoto, though, had seen how fine-grained Mirio’s control was. He had no idea where to shoot him so the bullet wouldn’t just pass through.

Did you see what he did?

He deliberately aimed straight at Eri. And fired.

Was it just me, or for an instant, did you also think that Eri might herself be happier without her Quirk? But of course, Mirio, being who he was, could only make one decision and stay true to himself. He put himself between her and Nemoto, and he took the bullet. And lost his Quirk.

I have to say, it’s something that to me, My Hero Academia’s heroes are always at their most impressive when they are at their “weakest”. And those quotes are very important! Mirio is nothing like Deku. He needed his own episode. And sadly, I think he needed to be limited in this way. Because Mirio’s heroism was plot destroying.

My Hero Academia is the story of how Deku became the world’s greatest hero, and that simply can’t happen as long as Lemillion is around. He is the better hero. He is the better symbol in a way because he doesn’t want to be. It’s a tour de force that really enhances Deku’s underdog status if a fangirl like me is willing to admit this. And that’s a brilliant bit of story building right there.

With all this said, I can’t lie, my heart jumped for joy when Deku burst through that wall after the credits. I simply cannot wait for the next episode.

I haven’t felt that kind of relief for a long time. I startled my poor cat when Deku burst through the wall — and it didn’t help that he wasn’t alone. Goodness knows they’re going to need all the help they can get!

My Hero Academia s4 ep74 – The Heart of a Hero It occurs to me that I have no sense of seasonal orientation when it comes to this season of My Hero Academia.

#action #anime #blonde bishie #Collab #episodic #My Hero Academia #shonen

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