#(and even then i don’t even see the shopping thing as correlative to his femininity it’s because he fucking loves having money

[comradekatara]

I cannot perceive sokka as being cis after I read one of your posts abt him being dykey and playing gender chess?? It just makes so much sense in my head, for me sokka sees being a man as a duty of sorts because he wants to protect others

right like sokka internalizes patriarchal logic but is also able to detach bioessentialism from that logic no problem the second he puts on the kyoshi warrior outfit and realizes how good it feels…. like his relationship to gender is actually so difficult to define because on one hand he views men and women as ontologically equal very early on into the show, but on the other hand he still believes that it is his duty to perform a certain role, and he doesn’t really understand how that role is harmful or incorrect because he stakes it so entirely to his identity and, indeed, his raison d’être.

so sokka performs Manhood insofar as he associates it with being a protector and a provider, but that’s also kind of complicated by the knowledge that his idealized identity is also so closely staked to his desire to martyr himself like kya did. or like yue did. he wants to a protector and provider and warrior but that model is largely founded (concretely at least, not just within his imagination) on examples of the women and girls in his life. whereas he desperately attempts to live up to this vision hakoda provides him of manhood (“knowing where you’re needed the most”) but the irony there of course is that hakoda is gone. sokka is attempting to fill an absence but is also actively modeling his ideal embodiment off of the legacies of women.

so on hand he’s enmeshed in these patriarchal ideals of what it means to navigate a war, but he is also actively learning from women how to fight and die for your people. and one of the first things we see sokka actively realize is that women can embody that same role he has idealized his entire life, and he can embody “womanhood” and take pride and personal satisfaction in that (even if others don’t fully understand it). but that also isn’t to say that i think sokka is just straight up transfem (although im not against that reading either), but rather that his relationship to gender would be something he approaches pragmatically and conditionally because he sees it as a tool rather than a key piece of his identity.

the fact that he was “born a boy” and had to be “the last man” of his village and take on those specific roles all by himself is such a deep injustice (even if, as katara somewhat rightfully points out, it also afforded him a certain privilege) and even though he quickly understands those designations are arbitrary, he can’t just let go of how that role shapes his identity either, especially because he is actually needed to provide for and protect and fight, and he can’t just dismiss those roles as being purely trivial and constructed either. there is a need for people who can do those things, which is why the roles exist in the first place, and why they’re so valorized (especially during wartime).

but if he ever actually bothers to look inward (lol, as if) for even a single second, he’d probably realize that even if he takes pride in inhabiting those roles, he no longer feels as if it is something that is directly staked to his “manhood.” because he knows from people like suki that there isn’t a logical correlation. and so his gender is something he feels no personal attachment towards, but is rather externally constructed, a matter of social perception. and perhaps someone who is less resistant to exploring their own internal world would also come to realize that their gender nonconformity constitutes an “identity” in its own right, but i don’t think sokka is that thoughtful when it comes to who he is or how he identifies.

if anything suki is the one who bestows him dykehood and dictates the terms of his gender, and he’s just like “yeah that sounds right i guess.” because like, he’s definitely not cis. but does he know that?? unclear.

[johnpriceslamb]

Saw your requests were opened so here is just something I’ve been thinking about !

Arthur Morgan getting sweets/gifts and all from a secret admirer. Girlie is a sneaky one too. Her goal is to just see him be a bit happier because she finds him cute and handsome.

No need to do this! Just think it’s a cute idea.

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

˚₊‧꒰ You notice the way his gaze softens entirely when he looks at you. You shyly smile at him. To which he smiles back, ever so faintly. ꒱ ‧₊˚

BEFORE YOU PROCEED ! hyper-feminine! reader . fem! reader . reader is implied to be physically shorter than characters mentioned below . love sick Arthur . 1.2k words . Very quick mention of wlw Sadie . ok yes ik that teddy bears were originally made in the 1900s but this story says OTHERWISE !!

A small, bow-tipped teddy bear rests upon his bed roll.

Arthur was amused to say the least at the sight of the miniscule, stuffed version of a bear sitting quite cutely on the fabrics he slept on. This was the third time he's been gifted a little decorative trinket from goodness knows who. First time, a small pink tulip with a little bow tied at the start of its stem, the second time- a tiny sweet wrapped like a ribbon encasing something.

At first, he genuinely thought this was a sick prank played by one of the men to piss him off even further to the max. But with the constant treats he's been getting, Arthur comes to a conclusion that he has a secret admirer.

Each item he’s been kindly offered had a little correlation, he noticed. A bow.

He instantly knew it was from one of the ladies in the gang, since… well, no cowpoke would ever give him anything so delicate, better yet gifts bow-tipped in pink.

“— Arthur?”

A soft, dainty voice was heard from behind which pulled him away from his thoughts. The grizzled man turns his head slightly, away from the small teddy on his bed and to the young lady near the entrance of his tent.

You notice the way his gaze softens entirely when he looks at you. You shyly smile at him. To which he smiles back, ever so faintly.

It was obvious amongst everyone that he’s grown to have a soft spot amongst the women in camp- specially you. How his hand rests upon the small of your back to guide you away from trouble, or the way he visibly becomes stressed at the rumours of you away from camp to visit a shop in a town nearby. The only time he relaxes completely is when he hears that squeal of yours when coming back, showing off the jewellery or such you bought to the other ladies.

In your hands rests a small bowl of stew, the scent of it makes him light up just a bit.

“..F’ me?” He asks— almost shyly.

“Mhm,” you nod sweetly, offering it to him. You can’t help the faint giddiness at the sight of the tulip you secretly gifted him in a little glass of water, which rested near the ledge of his bed.

“You didn’t have to.” His large hand engulfs yours in the process of taking it, “Thank ya kindly, sweetheart.”

“Anything for you,” You give him a toothy smile. He looks at your face for a tad bit too long, before reluctantly glancing away with a deep hum.

A ghost of a cheeky smile etches on your face. You feign curiosity, peaking over his shoulder to peer at the small bear on his bed.

He notices your curious gaze. “Was a gift, if you were wonderin’.”

“Oh? by who?” Innocence feigns in your eyes. Cheeky girl.

Wispy lashes tinker softly as he eats a spoonful of the food you brought with a soft grunt at the end, indicating that the food was rich with flavour he had taken a liking to.

He hesitates for a moment, before answering. “I uh.. I don’t know.”

“…You don’t know?” You quirk a brow, giggling softly.

Something about that giggle makes his knees buckle.

“Yeah. That’s the thing— I don’t know,” He grumbles, “Been gettin’ gifts from someone in the gang. ‘S like I got some secret admirer or sumthin’.”

The light pink bow in your hair makes his eyes squint a bit.

“May I see?” You ask with a small smile.

“Go ‘head.” He gives you full permission with a slight nod to his head, the hat he adorned concealing those blue eyes.

You toddle to his bed, sitting oh-so prettily near the edge. The teddy bear was now in your lap, as you played with it for a bit. You rub its ears with the pads of your thumb and index finger.

He has a faint grin at the sweet sight.

“You gonna name it?” You ask.

“I ain’t a child,” He grunts, only to tighten his lips at the way your face meekly droops at his comment. He lets out a soft sigh, pondering for a moment.

“I dunno.. Uh.. Coco?”

“Coco?” You brighten up at the interesting name. He sees the way your smile widens at the choice of title, happy he indulged in your silly sweetness. You coo out a little ‘hi, Coco’ to the stuffie as if it was alive

Damnit, you were far too cute. He has to tilt his head down a bit to the floor so you wouldn’t see the way his temples became a soft red colour.

“Coco is so, so cute!” You prattle, taking one of his little limbs and moving it side to side to symbolise the teddy waving at him.

“Mmhm. It’d be nice to know who’d be giving me these things, so I could thank em properly. I got this.. underlyin’ sense of guilt for not being able to say thanks.”

You smile at his words. Arthur was a gentleman to women, and you were no exception to his gentle behaviour. A soft flicker in your doe eyes was apparent. Perhaps from the light, or from the way your heart melts at his sincerity. No man could compare to him in your eyes.

It takes you a bit to reply. “You’re sweet, y’know that?”

He takes one more spoonful of the stew.

“I ain’t, sweetheart.”

⋆˚🐾˖°

Arthur was gone. Gone from camp and away within the everlasting greens with another— probably Charles to go hunting for food. Food supply was running low as of now- which you made a mental note to buy some food if you ever went back to town, that is.

The perfect time to give him his little gift.

You cheekily look left and right.

Delicate flat-soles heels clicked gently on the grass beneath, tip-toeing towards his tent. With the gentle sounds of ruffled fabrics coming from your sleeves leads to the slight rustle of the wrapped-up sweet that was placed gently on his bed.

You look around to see if anyone was close by, only to toddle away sneakily- albeit a bit clumsily.

Just a few hours later, you see his figure coming back to camp, lazily hunched on his horse with game behind him. You see Charles behind on his horse— Taima. Pretty thing she was, very friendly to you.

You can’t help but admire the two men whom stroll in with said game lurched over their shoulders as they approached the area of the make-shift kitchen Mr. Pearson was lounging.

You tinker your long lashes, giving them a shy wave. You beam as they both return a wave, with Charles noticing first and giving a small nod in return as well as a faint smile.

The hunter whom adorned a feather earring was close to you, he took upon the role of a big-brother to you. You can’t help but admire him.

A nudge to Arthur’s arm gets his attention and immediately has a smile on his face as he catches a glance at your pixie-like figure from near by.

You turn around and leave the sight, probably to go help with some other chores.

Arthur’s eyes narrows a bit at the light pink coloured bow attached to the back of your head, seemingly pondering about something before going back to skinning the animal.

He feels like he knows who his little secret admirer is, but he won’t comment just yet.

⋆˚🐾˖°

He was a fool, but he wasn’t ignorant.

Each present he’s been given was obviously from a lady, someone with a good taste in perfume— considering that the teddy that he kindly received was laced with a sweet, feminine scent. Not to mention the light pink bow Coco had wrapped around his little neck.

He knew it wasn’t from Karen, she’s not quite interested in the colour pink nor did she enjoy stuffed animals.

It wasn’t Tilly either, she was more of a little sister to him, and she wasn’t a fan of sweets anyway.

Mary-Beth, perhaps? No.. That girl was smitten with the former O’driscoll member.

Abigail was taken, and Miss Grimshaw.. no way.

Sadie did not even come to his mind. He knew very well that the gunslinger would probably pick you over him in a heart beat.

All that was left was.. you.

Your acting skills were top-notch, he had to give you that. It took him almost an entire week to figure it out. Quite so did he question himself if it was you who bestowed these lovely trinkets to him- you acted so clueless when you first saw that teddy.

His blue eyes stare at the sweet that was placed on his bed. He looked like a fool, giddy feelings rushing up to his stomach as he picks up the small treat. It just had to be you.

He savours the taste of the dark chocolate candy, stuffing the wrapper in his pocket once he was done with it. The bitter-sweet flavour bursting in his tastebud once he chewed on it.

Should he confront you? He’s not sure himself. Confrontation wasn’t the best when it came to you, he’d guess that you’d probably stammer like a little bunny and squeak away.

He turns his head just a bit— and there you were, sly smile with that sweet little dimple that accentuated your bunny-like features. You were sat with the other ladies, mindlessly joining in their conversation as the eye contact you both held seemed like an eternity.

That dumb smile was on his face again.

It was you.

And he was glad it was you.

“Damn woman,” he grunts under his breath. It wasn’t in a derogatorive way, oh- absolutely not. He’s smitten. He’s quick on his feet, trudging up towards you from behind in a rapid pace. That damn smile you gave him got him feeling so shy.

You don’t expect the big smooch coming your way in the matter of seconds.

[uncurlinglikeflowers]

Queer Trauma, Coming Out, & the Long Road to Self-Love and Healing

As I’ve reflected on my past, I’ve discovered that my adolescence may be one of, if not THE most traumatic time of my life thus far as a queer person. The last few months with my incredible therapist have made me realize that the years of anxiety, panic, fear, self-loathing, confusion, and depression have scarred me deeper than I had previously thought. She also made me realize that this is at least partially because I have never really talked about it openly and in depth in a healthy and productive way before, which is what inspired me to start this blog to share my experiences with others that are currently struggling with their identity, or to allow those that are also currently healing from the trauma of their previously closeted life feel a little more seen.

I knew from a VERY young age that I was different, but didn’t know how or what it meant. I was a lonely kid for a lot of my childhood without many friends. I didn’t want to play football with the boys during recess. I sought companionship at lunch with a table full of girls more often than not, which in itself also made me feel incredibly self conscious at the time as well. 

I asked, (with incredible shame) for the “girl’s toy” from the backseat in the McDonald’s drive-thru because I loved to play with the mini-Barbies and craft entire storylines for them. They were easier to hide in my room than regular sized Barbies. I spent most summers off school alone playing video games and reading book and book after book. I didn’t really click with the boys down the street. I was obsessed with Britney Spears and the color purple. I was lonely without really knowing what it meant.

I feel as though that fear I felt in my childhood and adolescence held me back from SO much. Middle school in particular was absolute hell. I hated it. I always felt constantly insecure and uncomfortable. I had absolutely zero confidence or self love. I hated my body and how I looked. 

While other kids experienced their first relationships and first feelings of romantic love, I was convinced that it was just not a possibility for me. On top of being deeply closeted, scared, confused, lonely, and in deep denial, girls didn’t go for me anyway. I was the awkward chunky guy struggling with his identity feeling like he had to make up for it by working extra hard to get perfect grades and give himself 100% to other people. I tried not to think about it too much, but hearing about relationships, seeing people kiss in the hallways between classes, and girls talking about what they liked in boys which was the complete opposite of me... it was hell.

To make my self consciousness worse, I felt supremely uncomfortable in gym class and the boys’ locker room in particular. I was ashamed of my body and also self conscious for wanting to look at the other boys; terrified that they would catch on and beat me senseless. Hearing them consistently call each other f*g in a very VERY negative context drove me deep into the closet as the identity I already felt shame for was directly correlated with being a ridiculed outcast, and something that was inherently, disgustingly wrong and unacceptable. The worst insult teenage boys could deliver to each other in the safety of an unchaperoned locker room in a hick town often not kind to queer people or those that were different. I SO desperately wanted to fit in with the other boys instead of being any version of who I actually was.

Part of that façade of blending in with my hetero peers involved having a girlfriend for two months in 8th grade. We didn’t even kiss, let alone approach any sexual situations. I’m sure she had her suspicions. I was utterly obsessed with the concept of blending in by having a girlfriend like the other boys and just having someone special in my life, even if we really didn’t even do any couple things. 

Upon reflection, I don’t think the concept of ever being sexual with her ever crossed my mind in the slightest. Even the idea of kissing her scared the hell out of me, and not just from first kiss nerves. Deep down I knew it wasn’t right for me. Don’t EVER tell a kid they’re too young to know. Fast forward to modern times, my first kiss with a girl was with a close friend YEARS after I came out. Go figure. 

The idea of caring about and loving myself was non-existent at that time. It’s a very VERY new and ongoing journey for me. I didn’t really care about myself at all. I hadn’t learned how to. Mom was in and out of cancer treatments, and would later pass during my senior year of college and kick off my coming out process, but that’s a whole other post for another day. Spending pretty much my entire childhood watching mom deal with being sick, I didn’t want to cause my family any more discomfort. I was full of self loathing, fear, and confusion, but it seemed irrelevant and unimportant because I didn’t want to be a hindrance. 

Instead, I tried so desperately to be the perfect kid and son by befriending my teachers, being a model student, and joining band and a bunch of organizations to stay as busy as possible to stay distracted and impress everyone else.I didn’t love myself because I didn’t think I was allowed to or deserved to in my own head. While I did finally make more meaningful friends in high school, I continued to go through the motions to make my family proud to make up for the scared closeted kid who thought he had to make up for his queerness as though it were a shameful weakness, and it seemed to be the only thing that could possibly matter at the time.

Non-surprisingly, I never really knew any openly queer boys in grade school. It probably legitimately wasn’t all that safe to come out in that environment. I’ll never forget the two boys I saw holding hands in a Wal-Mart that absolutely shook up my entirely reality, because I had never seen romantic same-sex affection in person before. 

There was a lesbian couple at my school, but people said awful, degrading things about them behind their backs constantly and acted like they were the biggest freaks. Another boy in my grade in high school hadn’t come out yet officially but was very flamboyant, and thus was treated just as awful as the lesbian couple, if not worse. Other kids just regularly said despicable things about him without even knowing him at all. I even heard parents make blatantly homophobic jokes about him. 

His life had to have been hell, and as a fully out queer adult, I still regret not being able to stand up for him more. That definitely forced me deeper into the closet. He wasn’t even out but got talked about like he was some disgusting abomination. How could I ever assume that I could ever come out, let alone kiss, date, and love another boy? I HATED the idea of any attention being placed on me, so I just wanted to survive school at that point.

I had multiple people throughout high school ask me if I were gay just as though it were the most casual question rather than a triggering inquiry that sent me into a mental frenzy every damn time it was presented. Having one of the jock boys ask me such a deeply personal question in passing on the way to my seat in Algebra class was traumatizing. I of course always said no, as at the time I was still convinced it was a passing phase and that I couldn’t actually be gay. 

At home, in the days of Myspace, I got anonymous messages telling me they were pretty sure I was gay. The anonymity was arguably worse in some ways. 

At a young age, I became hyper aware of how I carried myself, talked, and acted. I loathed hearing my voice or seeing myself in pictures, for fear of sounding too feminine or standing or emoting too gay. I obsessed over the concept that boys and girls carried their books a certain way, or the boys would be labelled as queer. I was paranoid about where I shopped for clothes, the colors I wore, and the length and fit of my shorts. 

In middle school, I got a lilac colored trapper keeper for school that I ultimately had my parents take back to the store for a different one because I felt so self conscious about it all day. At home I played with my little Barbies, but didn’t dare tell the kids at school for fear of rejection and isolation. Overall, I felt grossly incompetent, irrelevant, and unimportant in my own mind. Unworthy of love and of course, deeply ashamed for my attraction to the other boys.

I never had anyone whatsoever to help guide me through the coming out process, because I didn’t know a single queer person who could. I’ve now dedicated a good amount of my energy trying to be that person I desperately could have used then for anyone else that needs that role to be filled, and for someone to tell them that someone is incredibly proud of them. An obscene amount of queer people don’t ever hear “I’m so proud of you!” when they really need it the most. 

I also didn’t have any good queer representation on TV or in movies, so I really did feel completely alone at times. Most queer characters in media existedly solely to be made fun of and mocked, ratcher than celebrated, properly represented, or God forbid, given a legitimate love story, and the public’s reaction was so frequently one of such repugnance and disapproval. 

This was also probably about the time that a close family member told me that he had punched a gay guy for hitting on him when he was younger, a story he again felt the need to share with a now ex-boyfriend and I when we were dating, as though that’s not a horrifying thing for an already scared and closeted queer to hear from their own family. 

I think during middle school in particular is when my anxiety and depression issues started, but I assumed either that I was being a baby and that my feelings were invalid, or that it was just teenage angst. The idea that boys and men should mask their emotions and feelings and feel shame rather than expressing them was, (and seemingly appears to continue to be) a very real thing in small towns and society in general. 

It didn’t occur to me at the time that I was experiencing varying levels of almost daily trauma that would fuck me up well into adulthood. If you take anything at all from this post, let it be that the conversation around mental health, (and men in particular in this instance) NEEDS to change.

Another particularly noteworthy event in my queer adolescence was when two of my friends, (both girls, shocker) discovered gay porn on my computer. While they pestered me about if it were mine while they laughed, I of course lied. I felt a deep shame and utter humiliation. On reflection, fucking IMAGINE if they had been able to be gentle and understanding with me and told me they loved me and still would even if I were gay. From then on I was terrified that they would bring that day up to our other friends as a joke. Perhaps they did a time or two, I don’t recall. These same friends made jokes about the queer kid I mentioned earlier, and both parents of one of the girls regularly gossiped and made homophobic jokes about him when I was at their house 

By the time school dances rolled around, I knew I would never be able to go with anyone but friends. Even if I weren’t still deeply closeted, I’m pretty sure my school still had pretty strict rules against bringing same-sex dates to Prom. While I definitely had fun with my friends at the dances we went to, I so desperately longed for a world where I could dance with a boy who loved me like everyone else was able to.

The loneliness and isolation I felt at the end of those nights could be unbearable because it didn’t seem possible for me, even as I looked into the future. I was fully convinced I would live a very lonely life without anyone to love me the way I craved. I didn’t belong in that world, and wouldn’t ever be set up for that kind of happiness, joy, and feeling of content. I would live for everyone else but myself because that’s just the way the world worked for us queers.

I wish I had had just one single person then who gave me full permission to be my authentic queer self on any level. Someone who could hug me and tell me life after high school and college could and would be vastly different. Someone to tell me I wasn’t an unlovable disgusting freak, but rather a kind-hearted boy who deserved a deep love someday because I was a valid and gentle soul who deserved the world. I certainly deserved more than the shame and pain that constantly haunted me. 

Maybe then I wouldn’t have thought about death before 30 so much and obsessed over it well into my college career. I might have realized that I needed to learn to be gentle with myself and take care of and prioritize me and my own happiness. So many people let me down and convinced me that I was a filthy sinner and an over-emotional kid with invalid perspectives and feelings. As most of my closest friends, (that I cannot stress enough have been the ones to save my life and encourage the authenticity that I present so proudly today) came into my life after I had already come out fully, they weren’t around during those dark early struggles. 

Sometimes as an adult I still wonder what it would have felt like and how profoundly different my life could be if someone had held me close and sincerely told me they’re proud of me for what I survived and overcame, and told me that they can’t wait to see my eyes light up with the love I’ve always dreamed of in a boy, and that I still continue to seek. 

Young, baby gay Travis would be in absolute awe if he knew what life had in store for him back then. To see a future version of himself painting his nails, wearing whatever he wanted, dancing with strangers at pride festivals, having the time of his life at drag shows with his queer family and falling in love with boys? Proudly holding a boyfriend’s hand walking downtown in a busy city? Openly telling his dad about the cute boy he’s going on a date with? Going Facebook official with a boy? Being a super vocal advocate and inspiration and mentor to not only queer family, but to people he hardly talks to but manages to influence and inspire just by unashamedly being himself? Genuinely looking forward to kissing his new husband in front of family and friends on his wedding day, knowing it’ll be one of the happiest days of his entire life? 

Holy. Actual. Fuck.

Travis of six or seven years ago wouldn’t have even dared to dream this big, let alone baby gay Travis. He probably would have been utterly mortified but SO comforted to see that future life when he didn’t believe it to be any level of possible.

I’m so fucking proud of myself for this journey, and no one will ever take that away from me or water down my trauma or the grueling work I’ve put in. Genuinely, this is the one thing in my life that makes me absolutely burst with pride. 

I think I want to learn how to keep baby Travis in mind with this pride without having to revisit the trauma in the process. Look back at him with open arms, excited to see him learn and blossom into his actual self someday. Even if he could have desperately used someone like the me I am today, he survived then, and continues to persevere today. 

He’s queer as fuck, and proud to shout it from the rooftops. He’s a voice and an advocate for the voiceless. A shining light and beacon of hope for those still navigating their terrifying escape from their closeted life. He’s going to meet a man someday and love him so deeply in the way baby Travis always dreamed of. Above all, he’s going to continue to make that little guy so incredibly proud because he knows now the importance of loving himself in the process. 

I’m so proud of that scared little boy. I just wish he could have known then how proud he would make himself one day.   

As you talk with the queer people in your life, please keep in mind that just about all of us have incredible trauma directly tied to our identities. Talk to them with love, compassion, and understanding. Tell them how proud of them you are for pursuing their own happiness in the face of oppression and rejection. 

Demand better from elected officials. Advocate for us. Shut down homophobic ideals, even if you think it’ll make your family and friends uncomfortable to hear. Support queer content, artists and creators. Be a proud ally, but don’t ever allow yourself to take the spotlight away from actual queer people or our queer spaces. Mourn, love, and celebrate with us. 

Understand why pride is SO fucking important to us, and why you never have to worry about needing your own pride events. Listen to us and love us for exactly who we are, and were always meant to be. Love is the most incredible, beautiful, and often rare human experience we’re able to experience during our short time on this planet, and it should always be celebrated.

Happy Pride!

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

(tone indicators — lh + gen; i too am limited on the right words to use, but i hope this makes sense) just wanted to say i appreciate what your anon said about jensen, gender performance, and how far the fandom takes that, and i hope they know they’re valid in their feelings about it. there are moments where i see people (typically queer, typically trans) draw or hc about dean and tone down toxic aspects of performative masculinity, and have him embrace activities and hobbies that are considered feminine/considered emasculating, and it’s clear they don’t show it as emasculating — like dean cooking! it’s out of love and celebration. he’s not acting as a woman; he’s a man who loves to cook for his loved ones. otherwise it reverts back to sexism and stereotyping. it’s about dean’s self-acceptance and comfort without sacrificing the masculinity he enjoys, like fixing up baby or whatever isn’t always a performance or toxic masculinity. but there are (typically queer, typically cis) people who veer into areas that come across trans-/homophobic and joke at the expense of a marginalized community they aren’t a part of. the lines blur A LOT and i’m sure i’ve rb’d something i regret now that i have more clarity, and everyone’s opinion varies depending on personal comfort/experience, but it’s difficult to read sometimes. especially the sub/bottom stuff. (omega stuff i don’t see much, but i’m sure it’s there.) i won’t speak for misha’s thing because his relationship with jensen is personal and who knows how jensen really feels, but i do know the shitposting snowballs in a bad way around here from people who don’t know him in a way that allows for some of the stuff i’ve seen written. i’m not talking about gunshots and the more vague, lighthearted stuff, but the painting subbing and bottoming into a degrading corner and almost mocking it? if that makes sense? and the straight up calling him a girl thing is genuinely uncomfortable, i’ll say that truthfully. you’re right irena, he’s a multidimensional human. he’s a masculine guy and i think he enjoys that. i’m sure some toxicity is embedded, but it’s not a bad thing for him to enjoy it, especially when i’ve heard stories of how he also likes dressing up and wearing wigs for fun (i.e. clothing shop photos with danneel) and isn’t afraid to behave in typically “feminine” ways. and if the bottom/sub stuff is at all true, the two don’t necessarily need to correlate. he’s still a man, he’s still masculine, and that’s great. better yet, he’s comfortable in his skin, which is awesome. of course dean can’t get hurt by any of this, but it is uncomfortable seeing it rub off onto jensen too, which i agree with your anon about as well. i wish it was less “levi jeans vs denim shorts” and more “hot dog pants.” that’s how i see dean, and i don’t know jensen but i get similar vibes. rather than making him hyperfeminine to erase the hyper-masculinity, it’s more about the layers of him. what he (dean) likes, which isn’t one or the other but a whole range. and pulling away from giving a real life person the same treatment, or at least the worst of it. but yeah, that anon’s message really resonated. i’m sorry, wherever you are, that it happened and you were negatively affected by it. also, if i’ve at all overstepped or said something wrong, please let me know.

this is wonderfully put :) thank you for sharing it. other anon, I hope you can see these lovely words and the beginnings of truly needed conversation your ask has already inspired.

no one fits into a one single box, we have many things within us, some compartmentalized like drawers and others rolling around like spilled ink, jumping from one corner to another and changing direction without notice (sometimes the walls of the drawers liquefy to join the ink, at other times they remain rigid). it's about embracing that, for ourselves and fictional characters as well as the actors that play them. remembering that even in our joking is highly important.

also yes to hot dog pants. <3

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Twenty

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

January 23rd, 2001

“Ew, Valentine’s Day is coming up,” Remy said, checking their calendar and wrinkling his nose.

“What’s wrong with Valentine’s?” Emile asked.

“It’s an excuse for people to raise the price of roses and chocolates and if you so much as think that it’s not a big deal, you get two dozen people in your face trying to tell you otherwise,” Remy said. “Commercialism at its finest.”

Emile laughed. “I like Valentine’s. It’s a day where you can show who you love without any worry about being shamed or picked on for it, because you’re supposed to be a sap on Valentine’s day.”

“Of course you’d see it that way, you’re bi,” Remy scoffed. “You don’t have to hide your romantic intents from the world if you want to feel safe.”

Emile was stunned, and when the silence prolonged, Remy went back to whatever he had been doing before. But Emile was still reeling. Did Remy not...feel safe pursuing love most of the time?

If that was the case, why did he tolerate Emile being close with him?

  February 14th, 2001

Emile saw Remy wearing that outfit again, the one that he had worn when they had gotten back from the thrift shop. He didn’t know what that outfit signified to Remy, but it was certainly important. Emile smiled at Remy as they both worked around each other for breakfast. “Morning, girl,” he said casually.

Remy nodded, almost as if he didn’t realize Emile had used “girl” for him...her? No, Remy said he wasn’t a trans woman, so it must have been him. Emile continued to butter his toast until Remy said, “You know, you can’t just call me girl in front of your friends or at my work.”

“Well, if you start doing it to me, too, everyone will assume it’s an inside joke or something. And it seems to make you comfortable, and I want you to be comfortable,” Emile said.

Remy turned to him, and Emile winced at the look on Remy’s face. “Still, I’d rather not risk it just yet, you know? Just using ‘Remy’ or ‘Rem’ is fine.”

The fear in Remy’s eyes hurt Emile. “Okay,” he said. “Should I avoid pronouns?”

“Nah. I’m still a guy, Emile. I just feel more feminine today,” Remy said, pouring himself coffee. “He and him are fine. Maybe avoid calling me ‘dude,’ because that just feels weird, but I’m not picky about pronouns.”

“Have you ever considered...you might be trans?” Emile asked.

“I have,” Remy said. “And there are days where I wish I had been born a girl. But it more has to do with how my mother treated Vanessa, I think. It’s not even a permanent thing. I don’t always wish that, I don’t even wish for it often. Today I just...I don’t know. I feel more like indulging my feminine side.”

“Okay,” Emile said. He didn’t think much more of it. He had heard some individuals talk about people who didn’t feel like a guy or a girl, but Remy had said he felt like a feminine guy, so he didn’t identify with...whatever they called that label. He hadn’t come across it often. “Got any plans for Valentine’s today?”

“Not really,” Remy said. “We could go to the club, but that hasn’t been as much fun lately. I don’t have anyone who’d be willing to be my date, either, so I’m probably just gonna be stuck here for the night.”

“Who says that you’ll be stuck here for the night?” Emile asked. “If you don’t have plans we could go out together as friends.”

“On Valentine’s Day?! Are you crazy?!” Remy asked.

“I mean, people have called me crazy before, but I don’t understand the correlation here,” Emile replied simply.

“People will think we’re a couple, Emile!” Remy exclaimed.

“And that’s...a bad thing?” Emile asked.

“It’s not bad, but it’s not...it’s not good, either,” Remy said, looking away and blushing deeply.

“Why are you so embarrassed?” Emile asked. “You don’t...see me being around as a bad thing, do you? It’s not that you don’t want to associate with me?”

“It’s not that at all!” Remy exclaimed. He crossed his arms. “I love getting to hang around with you! It’s just...on Valentine’s, people will definitely think we’re an item.”

“But you’re not trying to get any guys to date you as of late, so why is that a bad thing?” Emile pressed.

Remy threw his hands up in the air as he exclaimed, “Because maybe I want that to be the case and it hurts when I remember it isn’t!”

The apartment fell silent. Emile stood there, thoroughly shocked. How was he supposed to respond to that? He stood, rooted in his spot, unable to move. Remy was staring at him expectantly, before his eyes dropped to the floor. “You don’t feel the same,” Remy said, voice hollow.

“Rem, I—”

“No, it’s okay, Emile,” Remy said, hugging himself. “I knew it was a long shot anyway. After all, you’re always so insistent that we’re friends. Nothing more. It’s fine that you don’t feel the same way.”

“I...just because I don’t have feelings for you like that, Rem, doesn’t mean I don’t care about you,” Emile said. “You’re my best friend. And I know that might not be what you want, but it’s no small feat, either. I wouldn’t suggest dinner out on Valentine’s with just any friend.”

Remy took a shaky breath and Emile could feel his heart starting to break. He hoped that Remy wasn’t regretting being friends with Emile. “I’m so stupid,” Remy muttered, voice choked up. “I told myself, no catching feelings. And what do I do? I get feelings and make a fool of myself, on Valentine’s Day no less.”

“Hey, Remy, no,” Emile said. “You’re not stupid, and you didn’t make a fool out of yourself, okay? It’s all right. I just...I don’t...I know this probably doesn’t help right now, but this doesn’t change anything. You’re still my best friend.”

“You’re right, that doesn’t help,” Remy spat, but the venom didn’t seem directed at Emile. “I need...I need some time. Do you...don’t you have a shift today?”

“Yeah,” Emile said. “Yeah, I do. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

Remy sniffled, and Emile reached out a hand, but Remy flinched away. He grabbed his coffee, grabbed a granola bar, and retreated to his room. Emile watched him go, feeling a heavy weight settle in his chest. There was nothing he could do to help Remy right now. When he got back from work, maybe they could talk as they watched TV. But Emile had to eat and run.

So that’s what he did. He ate his toast quickly, put the plate in the sink, changed into his uniform, and left the apartment. After the door closed, faint screaming could be heard, and tears welled up in Emile’s eyes. He didn’t mean to hurt Remy, not ever, but especially not like this. He was worried. He really didn’t want Remy to do anything drastic while Emile was gone, but there wasn’t anything he could do.

Still, today was a Wednesday, and with any luck, Remy would be able to talk about this in therapy. Emile hoped that Remy would hold out that long as he got in his car and drove to work. He had classes afterwards, and the next time he’d be home was when it was time to give Remy a ride to his therapy appointment. He had been hoping that they might be able to do dinner afterwards, but clearly, that wasn’t going to be good for either of them.

Emile spent the whole day thinking about Remy with worry. Remy had a shift at work for the lunch rush, but other than that he wasn’t doing anything. That left him with a lot of time to think, a lot of time to do something drastic if he decided it was time for that. Emile nearly snapped his pencil in two in class when he realized that Remy could very well be hurting himself as he sat here, taking notes.

Swallowing thickly, the second class was over he sprinted out of there, getting into his car and driving home. He sprinted up the apartment steps, tears clouding his eyes. He flung the door to the apartment open wide, and called, “Remy?!”

He got no immediate response, and his heart leapt into his throat. He closed the door, setting down his stuff at their table. He turned to find Remy sitting on the floor in front of the TV, eyes glassy. “Remy?” Emile asked, walking over and crouching down in front of him. “Remy, are you okay?”

Remy finally seemed to notice his presence. “Emile?” he asked. “Class over already?”

“Yeah, we’ve gotta get to therapy soon,” he said. “You okay?”

Remy looked away from Emile and sighed. “I’ve been thinking about what you said this morning,” he said. “And...and I’m glad that even if we can’t be together, we can still be friends. Because...because I don’t want to lose you.”

Emile sagged in relief. “Good,” he said. “I was worried all day that you would do something drastic.”

Remy snorted. “Nah. I’m not really the self-harm type. Besides...” Remy trailed off. “I’m not sure if you want to hear that, actually.”

“Besides what? It’s okay,” Emile said, standing and offering Remy a hand.

Remy took it and stood. “I knew that if I hurt myself you wouldn’t approve,” he said. “And you’d blame yourself. And I don’t want that.”

Emile smiled softly. “You think of me with that?”

“Is that weird?” Remy asked.

“If it keeps you from hurting yourself, I’m all for it,” Emile said. “I don’t think it’s weird at all. Plenty of people have lists of reasons not to harm themselves or others.”

“Ah. So I’m not unique in this scenario,” Remy said with a chuckle.

“Not a bad thing,” Emile pointed out. “It means you can relate to other people and they might be able to help you add to that list.”

“Mm,” Remy hummed.

“Remy...you’re not drunk, are you? Or high?” Emile asked.

“No,” Remy said. “I did have...a very long nap this morning, and then worked a three-hour shift, and then came home and sat down, and slept more, I guess. So I’m just...very very groggy.”

“Do you still think you’re up for therapy?” Emile asked.

“I don’t know, but I know I need to talk about this morning with someone,” Remy said. “So I guess I’m going.”

Emile paused. He didn’t want to apologize to Remy, because he wasn’t sorry about being honest about how he felt in their relationship. But at the same time, his heart ached to see Remy like this. “Hey, Rem?” Emile asked.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t beat yourself up over this, all right?” Emile pleaded. “I’m glad you told me. That’s better than suffering in silence while I take you on pseudo-dates that wind up hurting you more. And if you want, we can stop going out for dinner together as much, if you think that would help.”

Remy shrugged. “I can’t guarantee I won’t beat myself up,” he said. “But I don’t want us to stop the dinners. Maybe just...once a month or so instead? Make it a special treat, maybe invite some of your other friends. You know, make it feel less like a date.”

“I can work with that,” Emile readily agreed. “You ready to go?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Remy said with a sigh. He grabbed his leather jacket and Emile laughed. “I almost regret getting you that thing, you’re gonna wear it through.”

Remy made a concerned noise. “But I love it, you can’t say you regret getting me something I love!”

“I said ‘almost,’ Rem,” Emile said. “And besides, I’m not the one who’ll have to buy you a new one when you wear through the old one you have now. That duty will fall onto you. Or your significant other at the time, who knows.”

“I don’t really want to think about significant others at the moment, Emile,” Remy sighed.

“Fair enough,” Emile said.

They drove to the office that held the therapy practice, and Emile dropped Remy off before going to the store and buying the cheapest candy they had left, a bunch of Tootsie Pops tied with ribbon. Hopefully Remy wouldn’t take the peace offering too poorly.

When he got back to the therapy practice, it was just as Remy was walking out of the back office. It was clear to Emile that Remy had been crying somewhat. But he smiled when he saw Emile, which Emile would take as a win. “Hey, I got you something that we can share, if you want,” he said, offering the bouquet of lollipops out to Remy.

Remy laughed, genuinely, and took a grape one from the bunch. “Sure, why not, you dork,” he said.

Emile grinned and took that, too, as a win. “I would argue that you’re the bigger dork.”

“You keep telling yourself that, girl,” Remy said with a grin. “But I’ll always know the truth. You’re the best worst dork I know.”

[moonstruckbucky]

Royal Holiday (2/6)

Summary: Bucky Barnes is bored - trust him, he knows how that sounds. But being royalty, in his humble opinion, isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Time to mix it up a bit.

Pairing: Prince!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, modern AU

Warnings: None - just dumb fluff.

Notes: Like everything else, I’m sorry for the wait on this. Enjoy x

If you like my work buy me a Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Bucky’s unashamed to admit that the woman in front of the flower shop has been a permanent resident inside his mind. That expression of hope ringed in sadness on her face, paired with the subtle beauty she possessed has been stuck in his mind’s eye, even a week later. He’s already addicted and he doesn’t even know her name.

He doesn’t know the name of the flower shop, either. He’d been so enchanted by her, so preoccupied with who is she that he’d completely forgotten to get the name of the flower shop. He feels like an idiot, curses himself both internally and verbally, amusing the absolute shit out of Sam.

He’s never seen Bucky so torn up over a woman for more than a night, much less one he hasn’t even talked to yet. He actually feels bad every time Bucky requests to return to the city and Sam has to say no - “a meeting with your father”, “a suit fitting for the gala”, a number of other things that chip away at Bucky’s patience - and by association, Sam’s.

So he relents the next time Bucky has an opportunity to escape. He’d managed to fool his mother - something about a custom suit from a top designer in the city - and takes a car the first chance he sees. Or rather, Sam does, and he listens grudgingly as Bucky talks to himself.

“Was it...here? Or...or down 5th?” he mutters in the passenger seat, nose pressed to the glass like he’s out of some kids’ cartoon.

Sam rolls his eyes, taps his fingers against the steering wheel at a red light. Bucky, meanwhile, analyzes every building face they pass, eyebrows drawn downwards in concentration as he tries, gives himself a headache, to remember. He remembers the colors of the building - white brick and faded, green-grey paint befitting of a florist shop. One of the letters is crooked, tilted downwards like a nail’s come loose.

And then… he sees it, yelps out loud and points out the window. Unfortunately it’s just after Sam’s pressed the gas to move into the intersection. Bucky’s head bounces off the window as Sam slams on the brakes, spurring a chorus of angry car horns around them, harmonized with cursing and yelling.

Before Sam can yell at him for nearly getting them killed, Bucky’s stumbling out of the car, tripping over the seatbelt in his haste to make it to the curb. Growling under his breath, Sam eases down on the gas, waves apologetically to the cars around him and loops around to find a place to park.

Bucky pushes through people, offers half-assed apologies as his vision seems to tunnel, the flower shop the focus. Everything else blurs, becomes a white noise haze as he steps up to the door. Knob ice-cold in his bare palm,

and it’s locked.

Stomach plummeting, Bucky feels the hope leave his chest in a painful flurry. So tangible he actually winces. Tries the knob again and he feels that same aching pang - is that his heart?

He pitches forward, winces at the frigid glass on his skin. Taps his head once, twice, three times lightly against it because that’s just his luck isn’t it? He doesn’t even realize he’s muttering under his breath until Sam snorts behind him.

“They went to lunch, drama queen,” he teases. Confusion, an eye roll from his friend and a gesture at the window where a sign reads “back in an hour” in messy, feminine scrawl.

Another flutter, only this one is hope - taking off like a dove at a wedding. He elects to wait, declines when Sam offers to get him something from a bistro down the block. He leans against the wall beside the door, scrolling through his emails, barely sparing them a glance - he just wants the notification to go away. He waits, belly all quivering with nervous anticipation. After fifteen minutes, he lowers himself to the ground, knees tucked up so he doesn’t trip anyone.

Will she even show up to this shop? Or was it just a coincidence that she’d passed it in the first place? Is he just wasting his time on a girl he, realistically, might not see again? Doubt clouds his mind but he pushes it down, refuses to be at least a little rational. After all, the expression on her face as she gazed at the shop seemed far too coincidental that she’d just been passing by. There’s a correlation there, and he’s determined to find out what.

“Oh, jeez, I’m so sorry! I hope you weren’t waiting too long!”

A voice, sweet like honey, disrupts his thoughts, and as he looks up, he feels the breath leave his lungs in a whoosh. It’s her, the woman he’d seen before, her face flushed from the chill and a sincerely apologetic look. He thinks he’s in love already.

It takes him a few awkward moments for his tongue to reconnect to his brain, and then he clambers to his feet, nearly bowls her over in the process.

“Uh, um, n-no, I wasn’t waiting all that long!” he assures, feeling the heat creeping up his neck because her eyes are so big and sparkling in the sunshine. Then she smiles, and oh boy, is he in trouble.

“You don’t have to lie,” she teases lightly, sidestepping him with a key in her hand to unlock the door. “Are you looking for something in particular or are you just browsing?”

The shop is warm, filled with the aroma of fresh flowers - roses and hydrangea and gerbera daisies, pine and balsam and winterberry. It’s blossoming Christmas in the shop, fairy lights strung up everywhere and the fluorescent lights dimmed low - not too low that he can’t see the product, but just enough.

He gets so caught up in looking around he forgets she asked him a question. She’s shucked off her coat, looking pretty in an emerald green sweater that’s rolled at her wrists. She’s watching him, head tilted curiously and eyes bright. He shakes himself, gives her a smile that probably looks as shaky as it feels.

“Uh, well, I, uh, just thought I’d pick something up for my mother.” Barnes, you genius. He grins suddenly, rolling with the idea. “Yeah, something festive, you know? She loves flowers.”

She smirks and leans on the counter. “What’s her favorite?”

Bucky’s mind blanks, and he knows she knows he’s fibbing. He glances to his left, sees a large, bright red flower, wide open like a lion’s mane on a tall, green stem. He points.

“These.”

“Ah, amaryllis,” she says, sashaying around the counter. “A favorite around the holidays. I think I have some potted, if your mother would like to grow one of her own - they last longer.”

“Sure,” he agrees readily. He’s pretty sure she could ask him to walk on the Sun and he’d do it. She smiles that pretty smile again and turns away from him to fetch the potted amaryllis.

Even puts some pretty foil on the pot it comes in and drops it into a plastic sleeve to protect it from the cold. She does it all seamlessly, hands familiar with the task, and she rings him up. He pays her with a fifty, tells her to keep the $25.01 in change. Something akin to gratitude flashes in her eyes at that, but it’s gone when he blinks.

Awkward silence stretches - she taps her fingers, tries not to stare at him because why is he still here - and he searches his brain for any possible reason to linger a little longer. But he comes up empty, and all he can do is stare, looking stupid with that amaryllis in his hands and a far-off look in his eye. And then Sam - dear old Sam who he could throttle when they get outside - sidles up beside him and flashes her a charming grin that’s brilliant white against his dark skin.

“Afternoon, miss,” he greets, and Bucky thinks he feels his teeth crack. “What a beautiful shop! Are you the owner?”

To her credit, she seems to catch onto his game and smirks, cocks a hip as she leans against the counter. “Why, yes I am.”

And she introduces herself, just like that. Accepts the gloved hand Sam puts out, and Bucky feels the tips of his ears heat. How is it so easy for Sam when Bucky’s been practically rendered speechless?

This never happens, he thinks, especially not with women. But she’s...different. He isn’t sure how but she is, and she’s taken his tongue and glued it to the roof of his mouth.

Sam nudges him roughly, gives him an expectant look that screams get your shit together.

“This is my friend, Bucky,” he says when Bucky still can’t bring himself to speak. “He’s...shy.”

Another smirk and a slow appraising look up and down. He feels all too exposed under her gaze. “Pleasure to meet you, Bucky.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he squeaks. Clears his throat right after as beside him, Sam snorts.

She giggles cutely, and Bucky’s mouth lifts on its own accord - finally, some brain activity. A long moment of silence, of eyes connecting and holding, until Sam coughs and both she and Bucky seem to jump at the sound - like they’d forgotten he was there.

“Well, we’d better get that back to your, uh, mother,” Sam urges with a pointed look.

Right - “appointment” with a tailor.

Sam has to tug him out the door - backwards, because he just can’t stop smiling at her. He’s spoken less than twenty words and he’s pretty sure he’s half in love with her already. She waves, a little wiggle of her fingers, before the door closes.

And Sam loses it.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he taunts, high-pitched and squeaky before dissolving into raucous laughter. He claps Bucky on the shoulder. “Oh man, I am absolutely never letting you live that down. Ever.”

Bucky thinks he can live with that.

[petri808]

Now post-curse Shigure/Akito drabble please? c:

Here you go anon UwU 

A Walk in a Park

Post curse Shigure x Akiko

She’d been isolated for so long, that Shigure wanted to show Akito more of the world that she’s been hidden from all these years.  The going had been slow at times, three steps forward, one step back, but those steps back were becoming fewer or far between.  He had the patience to see it through, hell he’d waited twenty years, what’s a few more?  So, he started off small.  Day trips to neighboring towns.  Small festivals or even the movie theaters to help her become accustomed to larger groups of strangers.  

It was a genuine surprise to him one day, when Akito came into his office with a brochure.  

“Look,” she showed him with a genuine smile, pointing to the picture, “Osaka Castle is so beautiful, it would be nice to see it in person.”

He turns and looks first at the brochure then up to Akito.  “If that is what you want, I will make it happen.”  Shigure takes her hand.  “Shall we stay a few days and see more of Osaka’s sights as well?”

Akito blushes and nods her head.

“Then I will make the arrangements,” he kisses the back of her hand.  “Cherry blossom season is right around the corner, that should make for an even better visit.”  

The way her eyes lit up at the word cherry blossom made Shigure’s heart melt.  It was nice seeing these more feminine attributes coming through on Akito.  He chuckles in his head.  She made for a much more beautiful raven-haired goddess than a surly and stressed out male. All those years of waiting for moments like this one were well worth it.  

It took them just under two hours to reach the Chuo Ward of Osaka by car.  Shigure drives them straight to the Dormy Inn Namba where he’s booked a room with a private onsen.  Nothing was too good for his woman’s first trip to a big city and he plans to make the most out of it.  Akito was a little nervous about the amount of people she was seeing everywhere they passed, but Shigure just smiled and held her hand to comfort and assure her it would be okay.

First thing was a visit to the castle where its sheer magnificence made Akito’s fears fade away.  Walking along the bridge that spanned the moat, the castle appeared to rise high above the city atop its stone platform and surrounded by an imposing stone wall.  It’s gleaming white walls, golden trim, and green tiled roof was like seeing Heaven shining down upon their lowly presence.  

As they pass under the trees, a wind blows gently, loosening a few of the blossoms.  Akito gasps, almost giggling, reaching out to try and catch one. Shigure chuckles at the sight of a grown woman acting like a child.  He picks up one of the fallen cherry blossoms and places it in her ear.  “There,” he smiles, “a pretty flower, for a beautiful woman.”

“Always the smooth talker,” she blushes, “but thank you.”

For the next couple of days, they visit other little places around the city.  Sometimes they just walk around, touring shopping districts or eateries.  Akito was excited to find something cute that she was sure Tohru would love.  She didn’t get to see the girl much, now that her and Kyo had moved away to another city, but they spoke often by phone and came back to visit every few months.  Now she would have a gift to give.  Shigure had found it amusing though.  Really, he had asked Akito, an ‘I love cats’ t-shirt that had, of all the types, an orange tabby on it.  But even he couldn’t deny that Tohru would probably find it adorable.

This is where having the private onsen sure came in handy.  All the walking would leave Shigure, but more so Akito with sore feet from not being used to doing so much of it back home.  Besides, it was nice to have an excuse to hold and cuddle with her.  The soothing heat of the water fading their aches and pains away while warming up their desires for one another.  Their first trysts had been a little awkward, but over time, Akito had come to enjoy them.  Shigure for his part was very gentle with her and very attentive to her needs.  A stark contrast from the perverse nature he’d often portray to others.  

On their final afternoon in Osaka, Shigure takes Akito to the Tennoji Zoo a few blocks away from the hotel.  He thought that seeing all the exotic animals might be exciting to see, he knew he was. The last time he’d had to really deal with ‘wild’ creatures, was when Kyo and Yuki were living in his home and fighting all the time.  At first Akito seemed to enjoy the zoo too.  It was a very large park filled with many animals of both land and sea.  Huge enclosures with amazing flora and landscapes as well.

But the longer they walked, Shigure begun to notice a shift in Akito’s demeanor.  Once thrilled she was now a little distraught.  

He finally pulls her aside.  “What’s wrong Akito?”  At first, she just shakes her head, not wanting to answer, but he prompts again and pulls her into an embrace.  Shigure strokes her hair.  “Please tell me what is bothering you.”              

“I feel bad for them,” she whispers.  “All these animals are locked up and forced to live in cages almost like you all had to.”

Wow, he hadn’t even made such a connection and yet obviously this was deeply affecting her.  Unlike all of the others including Akito, Shigure had never truly felt like a prisoner to the curse.  But as he thought about it more, he could understand how she made the correlation.  Guilt over being the God who’d kept them trapped and confined to the Sohma legacy just like these poor animals was eating away at Akito.  

“Akito, I want you to listen to me.”  He holds her gaze.  Even when she tries to turn away, Shigure tilts her chin back to face him.  “It wasn’t all your fault.  You were doing what had been drilled into your head since you were an infant.  We all believed in the bond, that’s not something you created, just got stuck dealing with.”

“But it is my fault, I could have done better,” the tears trickle down.  “I could have treated everyone better.  I-I was so mean to everyone and forced you all to stay by my side even when I knew in my heart you were miserable.”

Shigure sighs and wipes away her tears.  “Akito, my love, you were young and just wanted to be loved.  That’s not a crime.  These animals, they don’t hate their circumstances.  I mean look,” he gestures to a lazily yawning monkey, “they’re fed, housed, no need to worry about predators.  Think of it like a life-long hotel stay where they are pampered for the rest of their lives.”

She looks at the monkey, “I see your point…”

“And another thing.  You aren’t that same person anymore.  You’ll never be that lonely girl anymore because as far as I’m concerned, you’ll be the one in a life-long hotel stay being pampered for the rest of your life.”

Akito sniffles and gives him a half smile.  “Thank you, Shigure, for being so kind to me.”

He kisses her forehead and smiles back, “the honor is all mine, my dearest one.  Now I say, let’s go home…”    

[coupsdecoeurs-blog]

Things ARMYS say (and believe!) about BTS members that are pissing me off. (It has to get out) AKA “Mixing their fantasized characterizations from fanfictions with REALITY”

RM/Namjoon

- Always hiding a message for his moonchildren in every little thing he says because he’s so deep

- Double meaning everywhere, even in his hairstyle I bet

JIN/Seokjin

- Is cooking for the other members (ha ha)

- Has no other interest than food (what about music? The guy plays guitar, piano, sings like an angel but no! And what about the fact that he’s a born businessman?)

- He talks without thinking. (THE MOST CUNNING OF THEM ALL. A compliment. By me.)

SUGA/Yoongi

- Is a “Tsundere” IRL, like it was not made up for his debut persona

- Always broody and mysterious

- Has no other interests than sleeping and writing music (it’s not because he doesn’t talk about them that they don’t exist.)

J-HOPE/Hoseok

- Always dancing

- Always cheerful (lol) (Like: “omg I was so shocked when he cried during his speech!” pfff)

- Always positive

- Not a part of the producing/writing/composing team (what the hell ?!)

- No other passion than Dance (fashion anyone ?)

JIMIN

- So weak and short. (In what world is 175cm short? Not in mine)

- Always crying

- If he looks at someone, he automatically eyefucks them

- If he opens his mouth, it’s to flirt (The guy’s middle name is “shy” but whatever)

- He’s a “hoe” because he has chemistry with every member

- “Precious” and “sensitive” and “feminine” (wtf)

- Will be NOTHING after BTS, doesn’t think about his solo work (and yet… the first from the vocal line to release a solo outside of BTS’ albums)

- Talks without thinking

- Has no other interests than being cute/sexy/whatever because he’s in fact super secretive even though he’s the member that has seemingly shared the most with Army

V/Teahyung

- Still searching for remnants of his debut persona, his so called “4D personality” (It’s gone people, wake up. He’s a grown up now)

- The worst member to try to “analyse” when it comes to body language because he’s so controlled it’s scary, and YET people try. “Ho, look, he’s fed up with his antics because he didn’t look at him, didn’t laugh at his joke, didn’t blah blah blah” PLEASE STOP!

- Is somewhat dumb

- His dream is still to be an actor, even though he hasn’t talked about that since Hwarang. (Maybe now it’s Art, fashion, anything else? No?)

JUNGKOOK

- Only exists to be paired up with another member/reacting to something one of his “hyungs” did

- The “Golden Maknae”. No need to say anything else. Poor guy. Leave him alone.

- Shook! (look at yourself sometimes, you space out at least 10 times a day, you’re just not filmed 24/7. No metaphysical reason behind it whatsoever.)

- “Jealous Tongue-thing” (this expression makes me want to smash my computer)

- Has some kind of crypted message to tell us because suddenly he’s active on Social media. Maybe he just felt like promoting his stuff himself for once? No need for it to be a BIG existential secret

- Still plays Overwatch whenever he has free time

BTS

- You actually know them because you’re watching their video 12 hours a day.

- Korean fans see and think the same things as I-fans, and focus on the exact same details. Ethnocentrism at its best.

- “They will lose their hair!” Calm down people, it’s called color wax and it’s washable with water

- They don’t talk to girls, poor things. It’s not like they’re friends with tons of idols GG and that 50% of their staff are women, since DEBUT.

- “They never do fanservice, they genuinely love each other.” Nobody can deny that BTS are a true family, but guys: THEY DO FAN SERVICE ALL THE TIME. No correlation between those two facts.

- Searching for “dom” or “sub” clues everytime they move, whereas those are BDSM terms. STOOOOOP PROJECTING !

 And last but not least:

THEY ARE NOT SIMS ! They don’t stop moving when you don’t see them. So yeah, they have time to date if they want to, they have time to meet their OTHER friends, they go shopping even when nobody takes pictures of them…

 If you want to add things up, feel free!

[crossdessinghippyhubby-blog]

Deductively eliminating ego and finding myself

It may seem like I have multiple personalities haha but I think I’m figuring it out. From what I see in studies my fem side surfaces when I am under great stress as a spill over valve. Childhood trauma and unknown circumstances made my outburst “crossdress” related for many different reoccurring and various catalytic events. This reaction is undeniable and when I resist, the lash back of pent up emotions sends me in to some weird places. These weird places are not too bad depending on how you view the cross dressing community. I was never allowed to embrace these feelings, and when I did, it was sexual and in private because I was aroused and ashamed (VS is sexier than haines) what is even more confusing is I was allowed to CD for Halloween twice and a school fundraiser (my brother did it too but my dad didn’t come to mine. Which is understandable because he knew I had done it before in private. SHAME) ps. I won the pageant haha. Dating was fine because it took a while to meet a girl who was worth revealing my shame to, but I found her. Now my wife, she has been supportive. Happily ever after right? No, I was a very influential amateur theologian in my denominational circle (not much difference than a “professional”) annnnd the Bible is pretty clear about what is unclean, so I closed off the only person willing to listen because the things that peaked my curiosity were labeled sinful in a book that is cool with many atrocious acts but some how became “The Moral Standard”. So for the last three years I successfully buried my feminine side with no “relapses”, urges, and no negative side affects on my emotions. Lol. Yeah right. That’s a long time to convince yourself that you’re a helpless loser gay boi if you indulge in this mindset. Plus I toed the line as often as I could with out reaching the weird parts that made me more uncomfortable.

The actual act of CD causes no actual harm an I would have been better off telling my wife how I felt and what I wanted but that wasn’t the case. I killed this side of myself to avoid relapsing, but I had to kill my empathetic emotions to do it. Parents who don’t talk about emotion make it easy for unjustified correlations with emotion. Ie. empathy with my “feminine side”. That turned me to a nihilistic world view just to numb myself and wait til I was dead. Then came college.

I graduated highscool in 2012 and almost had the ideal conservative Christian marriage, from birth to 2019 I was all in for Jesus. Which is God. Which is the word. Which becomes prescriptive. Which if said prescriptions are followed, it can become a way to ruin relationships in a psychopathic way. Truth defined base solely on a book saying it’s true is rough. If the *Insert any holy book* says it’s true, it doesn’t make it true. That’s an argument we use on any apostate and false religions, We would DEMAND EVIDENCE. but that doesn’t apply to us. Turns out in all my years of proving evolution wrong, I never studied it. I should have been studying biology. The real issue comes with the lack of fact checking, and that leads to denominational delusion “I’m the most correct about connecting anecdotal evidence together to openly say my political views with the power and justification of the one true god”

The last year I’ve lost myself in finding myself. For the first time, me being me met the standard. What a freeing feeling.

Back to the CD stuff I guess haha. I recently brought these inner feelings back up to my wife and she has been accepting (but uncomfortable to an understandable extent) and this little bit of freedom felt amazing. Truly, I was high on not having to hide. It was the first time I’ve ever felt that connected with my wife. She knows everything. Shame is hard to shake, Id feel like my opportunities we few and fleeting and over the years I’ve picked up the habit of bingeing. This last week I have done things with my wife that I thought I would never be able to enjoy in a shameless environment and what can I say. Wow.

My ultimate fantasy is a GNO with my wife where we have a spa day, shop, and go out in our new clothes. She’s still not completely ready for something like that yet, so instead, she agreed to a couple smaller and enjoyable things. But I binge haha. I have maybe ramped up this week of getting high on dopamine for too long and with a new born baby, shes understandably tired. Physically and emotionally. My preconditioned brain processed her change of mood and uninterested to be directly related to this change, but she says that’s not the case. I feel bad because Its like bingeing a new video game. You can play it for a week straight and then the initial excitement wares off. It would make sense that the abrupt absence of her masculine man would have her upset. I’m sure her friends get mad at their husbands when they geek out on video games for hours and hours.

I was getting confused about my fem levels. My mannerisms, were uncontrollable. This was the first time I let her out of the cage. Shame is still looking at me from afar, but I’m flipping it the bird. But what was this? I had a set fantasy, a grill night with my bff and this isn’t matching it. I’m not trans, I know this to my core. I love being me. I now see this as the same reaction as a kid with their first smart phone. I have so many things I’m thankful for and enjoy as my manly self that I know I’ll be a him almost all the time. With that said, the video game addiction feeling is starting to subside, but my empathy hasn’t. I look at my painted toes and I don’t feel shame. But if they weren’t on right now I wouldn’t feel the any compulsion to paint them. Either or is whatever. It just is. I’m me and I have to take this one day at a time and continue to be honest with myself. Anyway, I’m Mark. I’m a father and a husband who was a college wrestler and works on a conservative Christian family farm. I’ll be his father for all of my life and her man that wants to be her lady of the night on special evenings from time to time til death.

I’m just trying to peel back the layers of lies I’ve been innocently told and accept myself. This is all my best effort to be candid on what it really is to be human.

Free people are free and for the first time, I’ve allowed myself to reap the full effect of being loved for who you really are.

[theaspirers-blog]

Jonathan Litchfield

Ep.02 Who knew that the retail business had feelings?  

It is widely known that when feelings or emotions are involved the impact of pricing on ones purchasing decisions decreases.  Jonathan has curated his shop to stimulate the epi-center of the brain that responds to emotional triggering and as such, you are almost guaranteed to walk away with something you may not have needed, but you will have for a long time and it will mean something to you.

When you walk into Jonathans store it isn't like any experience you would have had at other retail shops.  You are actually entering a space.  Though the space may be small, what he has created is abundant and the way it interacts with your senses is strategic.

When a business is able to go away from its definition of “What it is” and moves to the realm of “What it does” it shifts the customer experience and begins building a relationship far beyond transactions.  Furthermore, if you can trigger an emotional response the power of “FEELING” surpasses the power of “FISCAL VALUE” and ones purchasing decisions expand outwardly.

One example how Jonathan has edited the user experience is by ensuring that the shelfs are stocked to the exact capacity so that it is not overwhelming or chaotic to the customers eye and there is an exact amount of open space to be able to envision the product in ones own abode.  An overstocked shelf leads to product grouping and devalues the uniqueness of the object.  Ever seen a shelf to full that you cant find what your looking for?  Exactly!

Another thing that Jonathan does to infiltrate your emotions is to stimulate your sense of smell.

Read the following write-up and tell me what he could possible be selling:

The intoxication of a sweltry night. This fragrance conjures languid restlessness. Falling love, momentarily - just until the morning lifts the dense heat off the dry grass. Dancing close. Salted hair and toasted skin. Hot night air, softening slowly. The scent of abandon.

It is of course related to something that impacts your sense of smell, but what is even more fascinating is that regardless of what it is, it is never exposed in its write up, yet it is vividly intriguing.  When a business can stimulate a customer to make a purchasing decision off of feelings and emotions the business is able to gather a greater depth of psychological information for retargeting that user.  So if a candle can trigger a user to relate to a positive experience at a point in their life they are more likely to purchase the product.  I want to focus on the candle a little bit more though as there has been a massive paradigm shift in that specific industry.

For so long the concept of candles was distinctly feminine, but more and more I see wax filled whisky glasses with unique leather wraps with dark writing and intriguing flavours very much targeting men.  Whats even more interesting is that the “Mandles or Mens Candle” segment of the industry has grown exponentially in the last 3 years to the point that almost every major candle brand now makes a mens specific candle.  With that being said lets focus on how and why this happened and the correlation to Jonathan's business psychology.

Most men are oblivious to how they can sexualize and masculate (sp?) their abodes and usually leave it to a bottle of cool whisky on the counter, a hockey bag in the corner of the room and one piece of art, usually some art deco picture of a woman.  Now, with the ever growing “metro sexual, lumber sexual  and urban hipster” demographic the need to edit ones living space has evolved and one of the easiest ways is a candle.  Jonathan caught on to this trend early and created his own distinct brand and essence.  Within his market he was able to use a candle as a simple gate-way product to expose customers to other smaller features that could support and enhance their homes.  What is great about candles is that they are a high margin, long shelf life unique offering typically exclusive to their creator.  Think of of it as buying an Apple iPhone and being required to use the Apple charger.   Once a purchases is hooked on the fragrance and the feeling it creates in their house, they will typically return to the store once the candle is burned down.  But this time, they will walk out with a candle and something else - slowly piecemealing their own unique style and assortment of offerings.

I want to reiterate this point; when Jonathan originally created Litchfield he relied on his instinct that selling products that impacted the way he felt would be the distinguishing factor in how he curated his store.  His emotional connections to most of these products came from his experiences in his life, travelling and exposure to design and art.  When someone isn't as regularly exposed as Jonathan was there are at the mercy of store like Litchfield and fortunately they are not let astray.

So, here are my 3 take aways from my interview with Jonathan:

Create a gateway product or service that is unique to your business

Develop a space that allows for space - don't overcrowd and create chaos for your customers decision making process

Figure out a way to sell “Feeling” and stimulates an emotional connection and you will be able to shift your customers purchasing power

Now, when we wrapped the interview I asked Jonathan a final question off camera…  How do you sell feeling online when you can’t smell, taste, see, hear or interact with your tangible product?  I am sure Jonathan will be back with an answer to this in no time..

Thank for tuning in and for more information make sure to check out: www.litchfieldtheshop.com

[thegazeofficial-blog]

January 2017, Pt. 2

The Gaze: Ep. 2 - Young Thug’s “Wyclef Jean,” Banks’ “Trainwreck,” & Missy Elliott ft. Lamb’s “I’m Better”

"Hallelujah Money” - Gorillaz

Released: January 19. 2017

Directors: Giorgio Testi & Gorillaz

Hunty: This is supposed to be their anti-Trump video, right? My main problem, is that I’m having a hard time focusing on what he’s saying and correlating that to the imagery behind him.

Kirk: I miss when Gorillaz was a band that was giving us the vibe that it was actual cartoons making this music, and they were the stars of these videos. In recent years these characters are secondary to the music, and it’s primarily other artists that are featured in their videos. 

I love the way he’s lit, though. It’s kind of vintage-looking the way they’re playing with the light and shadows. It goes back and forth between projecting on him and being a background projection.

H: I think we’re both big fans of videos where people use projection screens like this and in Rihanna’s “We Found Love” video, for example. You can do a lot with it because you can include any imagery you want, but also have a performance in front of it. The visuals in the background range from dark dystopian stuff, to cartoons, to psychedelia.

K: The beginning clips were darker so when the cartoons come in, they've been staged with a darker tone too.

H: I’m sure it’s saying something about the way we consume media. All this shit just mixed together. 

With this book that he’s holding, the black outfit, and his hands shaking, it’s almost like he’s a hellfire and brimstone preacher. It’s very ominous.

K: It feels very apocalyptic. This video feels like he’s giving some sort of sermon-y address to the world and this is projecting in people’s homes telling us “The world is ending.” 

H: That’s kind of exactly what’s happening, though.

"Touch” - Little Mix

Released: January 19, 2017

Directors: Director X & Parri$ Goebel

K: I hate it. I think everything about this video is bad. This Lisa Frank folder color scheme of the walls is just killing me. 

I think all the looks are terrible and don’t work well as a group. I understand not matching, but there’s also a way to compliment each other.

The camerawork... it’s a lot at once. 

H: I love the ripped up sweater with the pendants hanging off of it. That’s the only outfit that I like. I particularly hate the nude bodice over the baggy sweater. 

But I agree. Two of them have really dark outfits and the other two are wearing pastels. Meanwhile, the walls have a mix of really bright colors with pastels.

K: Who thought it was a good idea to have nude tones against these bright easter egg colors? I don’t know who did the costume design and art direction for this video, but it just looks strange.

H: It is giving us some sugary-pop spice girls vibes, even if it is a Lisa Frank version.

K:  The Spice Girls were never like this. If you think about the “Wannabe”video, at least it works in the sense that it doesn’t look bad, even if it is simple and people only like it because of nostalgia. It’s a simple setting with them showcasing their personalities, and that’s it. Any other girl group could do that and it could be cute.  

Everyone now is into these CGI constructed worlds. You have access to literally whatever you want, and THIS is the color scheme you’ve chosen... If you’re going to do it, execute it well.

H: We’re not getting anything conceptually innovative. They have the elements of what a girl group tends to be, but nothing’s executed super well. 

I think it maybe says something about the internet generation where if you’re going to drop something, you want to have the most attention-grabbing video. It might be an eye sore, but it has a lot of views. It’s so wrong and extra that it kind of entices you.

K: We’re going to look back in 10 years and be like “Oh, remember when pop groups were all just trying to have the most colorful video, so we’d watch it on Youtube?”

"Pops” - Angel Olsen

Released: January 24, 2017

Directors: Angel Olsen & Jethro Waters

H: After watching “Shut Up Kiss Me” so many times, it’s nice coming back to the OG Angel Olsen aesthetic with these sad slo-mo shots. This obviously isn’t a banger off the album, and we don’t get the in-your-face imagery of the “Shut Up Kiss Me” video, but the song and video are both subdued and pleasing. A decent watch and listen.

K: I like that she’s giving us videos from the rock side and the indie-folk side of the album. She’s like “I can be quiet and introspective and also be a kickass rock chick.” It’s really inspiring coming from a female artist, since people really like to put female artists in a box.

H: This video reminds me of when an artist like Bon Iver or Sufjan Stevens convinces us they are these men from the wilderness when really they’re from Brooklyn or something, but she’s giving us something that is more realistically her world.

K: It’s like she lives in a very normal suburban place that any of us would live in, but the way this video aestheticizes the way she’s experiencing it makes us feel like she’s out in the wilderness by herself, which is a much more honest approach. It’s more of her being isolated in her inner world rather than this actually being the world.

I think it’s very easy to do a video like this and make it seem very trite, but it feels honest and sincere.

It really is a simple marriage between the song and images. It has a maturity to it.

“Kick Jump Twist” - Sylvan Esso

Released: January 24, 2017

Director: Mimi Cave

K: I love that somebody else besides Sia is playing around with modern dance.

H: Right? It’s nice to see a band who’s doing contemporary electronic-pop do something that’s more performance-arty.

I love that it’s a dance video with an unlikely star and in an unlikely setting. This boy is totally killing this dance even though he looks like he was plucked straight off a farm in the backwoods of Kentucky, where guys probably would be shamed for doing something “feminine” like dancing.

K: I like the dance itself. It’s mixing these very feminine and very masculine energies. 

This dusty warehouse place looks like an old theatre that hasn’t been open for like 50 years. 

H: The way the ground is sand that he can kick up and create this smokey look with the lights and then the lights flashing. It’s kind of like a lot of things we liked from the "Company” video: interesting choreography from the get and subtle aesthetic things that keep it interesting along the way. 

K: It reminds me of the “Call Your Girlfriend” video by Robyn, because of the moving camerawork. This has been a long-take up until the cut to the crowd. 

Also, the color palette is so good. The beige pants. The light pink wall. His skin tone and light red hair.

I didn’t care for this song, and now I’m very into it.

“Scuse Me” - Lizzo

Released: January 25, 2017

Directors: Quinn Morrow & Asha Maura

H: Lizzo’s literally taking us to church right now, so let’s listen up. 

K: There are a lot of interesting correlations to be made between the subject material of the song and the setting of the church. The whole idea that she’s praising her body while in church and even the preacher is telling her to feel herself too. It’s giving you a taste of how spiritual it is for women to love their bodies. 

H: And it’s a reversal of what religion normally tells women what to think about their bodies and sexuality. 

Even this jungle waterfall scene has a religious feeling in an ancient goddess type of way. She’s like “I’m a badass queen, no matter where I am or what’s going on around me.”

K: I love songs about women feeling themselves metaphorically... or even not. Female masturbation songs are a powerful thing.

H: Yeah, her confidence is inspiring. Her music is like this weird hybrid of pop/soul/R&B/she’s also kind of an MC, but regardless she is selling it.

“I Don’t Wanna Live Forever” - Zayn & Taylor Swift

Released: January 26, 2017

Director: Grant Singer

H: He is so pretty.

K: If he were a gay man, he would be evil.

H: He probably is evil!

K: I think when you’re that rich, good-looking, and successful you have to be evil.

H: He’s smart, though. He’s definitely not the best singer of the group, but he’s found a way to capitalize off of what he’s got, even if it’s mainly his looks, but like that’s what I’d be doing too, girl!

K: You have to be smart to be that famous. Although, I think this video is basic af.

H: It’s got kind of a cool noir-ish vibe to it, but it’s mostly very “We’re sexy people being sad.”

K: They’re too busy trying to be in without pushing forward for anything new. This is basically the stuff underground pop artists have been doing for years now. It’s like a co-opted pop-sheen version of what Sky Ferreira has already done that’s like... no.

H: That’s exactly what this video is. There’s no punch to it. If it’s supposed to be dark and sexy, we’re getting a very light palatable version of that.

(Side note: This video was directed by Grant Singer, who has directed almost all of Sky Ferreira’s music videos.)

“I Love You More Than You Love Yourself” - Austra

Released: January 26, 2017

Director: M Blash

K: It’s got a really 80′s vibe but in a way that’s not super in your face. 

H: It’s reminding me a lot of Stranger Things.

K: There’s something playful and campy about the whole thing like how she’s very obviously wearing a wig. 

We’re out shopping, but it’s very clear that she’s on a very important mission.

H: These very quick, very close-up flashes of everything are doing a good job of keeping us intrigued but also aestheticizing what’s going on, because I still have no idea what’s happening in this video.

This album is called Future Politics, so I’m wondering what this is saying about modern society.

K: If I had to take a whack at it, I’d say it has the levity comparable to going on a mission to space for women to go and find the perfect look in an attempt to be these perfect image of a woman.

H: It could be addressing how the processes for women to maintain their appearance are often written off as frivolous even though they’re necessary to survival. 

Then she doesn’t even use anything in the shopping bags at the dance club, so maybe it’s just trying to destroy this dichotomy between the career-focused female astronaut and the woman who enjoys leisurely shopping.

“Keep Running” - Tei Shi

Released: January 27, 2017

Director: Agostina Gálvez

H: This is giving us Sky’s “Red Lips” meets Madonna’s “Hollywood” meets a Porches video meets Santigold’s “Banshee...”

It’s a perfect representation of the song. It mixes the chill, sexy, sultry R&B vibe with the neon-lit karaoke party vibe that highlights the synthpop sound.

K: It’s so simple, but it’s so well executed. There’s something very effortless about her.

The silk and the shiny floral wallpaper remind me of my grandma’s house, but it’s been sexed up.

H: All of those iridescent materials are super hot right now.

It’s fun that she’s being sexy in a very womanly way, as opposed to a girlish way that’s very prevalent in pop.

K: It’s like “I’m going to be sexy in the way that I want to be.”

H: Literally everything about this is perfect.

"Two Wildly Different Perspectives” - Father John Misty

Released: January 30, 2017

Director: Matthew Daniel SIskin

K: I love that this is shot like a home movie, since a lot of the aesthetics we associate with children on screen are in a home movie style. 

H: You don’t realize the kid in the spider-man outfit is a person of color at first, but then he takes his mask off and the situation means something so different. It’s “Two Wildly Different Perspectives,” so I don’t know what I was expecting, but the contrast is really powerful, especially since the white kids are playing with real guns in some scenes.

K: I love that we’re getting these clips of a first-person shooter video game, and then a similarly styled shot using a camera and gun scope in real life.

This video’s amazing. This idea that we’re conditioning our children, especially boys, so young to think that violence and guns are a game. 

H: It’s a statement about guns and violence are incorporated into how we raise men.  I think it’s powerful to put the visual representation out there of how the typical American boy is socialized, but a lot of people don’t see the negative aspects of it until it’s a person of color, even thought this is how you’re supposed to assimilate to this culture.

K: I think it was really powerful having most of the imagery being of white people playing with guns and then the only imagery of the person of color playing with a gun is isolated to this one scene indoors, and the juxtaposition of those two among our political climate right now. In this video you make associations in ways that aren’t bashing them over your head. It’s subtle and delicate and guides you there.

Also, the music is the perfect backing to it. it adds to what you’re supposed to be watching.

H: There’s a softness to it even though it’s about guns.

K: There’s an innocence to it, and the fact that they do artistic things like the gun flashing in the dark. It hints at kids just having imaginative play and it not having to be about shooting other kids. These kids don’t know what they’re doing with these things.

H: We could just give boys toys that are not guns and not have differing expectations of a person’s relationship to guns based on their race.

“(No One Knows Me) Like the Piano” - Sampha

Released: January 31, 2017

Director: Jamie-James Medina

H: I think this scene of him playing the piano is going to be the whole video. That’s kind of the vibe of the song.

K: You know what this giving me vibes of? Peanuts.

*gasps*

I thought this video was one thing/ Now it’s this whole other thing, and I’m like dying. 

Is she disintegrating?

 I think she’s like his love interest or someone in his life that’s waiting for him, and she’s slowly sort of fading away because he’s so into the piano. That’s why it’s funny that it reminded me of Lucy and Linus from Peanuts. 

H: Either way, it’s clearly this commentary on the isolation of focusing on your art and sacrificing relationships for that. 

F*ck me up.

To see all of the videos we watched during the second half of January, check out our playlist on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL5nKqMtDxQyb6S5CibxaWDTbOt3YRa7Aj