#I got a traumatized homosexual to love and look out for for the rest of eternity

[fandomfaeofveryfewf4cks]

...

Fic idea? Headcanon? I don't know.

This thing! 👇

What if Edwin compares himself to David because Crystal let her whole life get swept into what David was doing and Charles let his whole afterlife get swept into what Edwin was doing?

David finds this girl who takes a liking to him and decides he wants them to be together forever.

Edwin finds this dying boy who takes a liking to him and ends up wanting THEM to be together forever.

Edwin's been to Hell, and you can't tell me he never, not even once thought he actually deserved it. Because with all that repression, there's gotta be some unaddressed self-hatred.

What everyone (but Edwin) knows is that while David only cared about what he wanted for himself, Edwin cares about Charles and his happiness more than anything.

Cue Charles making it clear that he made the choice to stay because he wanted to be with Edwin and that Edwin did not lure him into a trap.

And Edwin not believing him.

Also, depending on what makes demons in this universe, maybe Edwin considers himself a demon rather than a ghost?

...What if Edwin actually did become a demon when he went to Hell?

WHAT IF HE IS A DEMON AND DOESN'T KNOW!?

*furiously types*

[thearoaceshark]

Disenchanted x TMNT.

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There was a small red demon and a human in an orange tunic in the Heaven. They had just killed God and were looking at His reserve light bulbs, probably if they put one in Him He will revive.

"Look, Mikey, light bulbs. Stacks of 'em. Brand-new hardward-store-fresh light bulbs" the demon said to his half-sibling "Where's your other nunchuck?" He asked and the youngest took out another nunchaku "Hand it over"

Mikey was going to give it to him but they backed away.

"Wait a minute. What are you gonna do?" they asked.

"Smash the light bulbs"

"Okay, then" they was going to give it to him but "Wait a minute"

"What?" The demon was getting angry.

"If you smash the light bulbs, God can never come back" they said worriedly.

"We took a vote and everyone agreed I would become the new God, and you would be my number two. My butler. Cool butler Mikey. Now butle-up, Miks" he try to persuade them.

"But we don't have no proof you could become God anyway. You yourself pointed out everything is slowin' down and fadin' out. That's what's gonna happen"

"Aghh. Look, Miks, I need this. I had a very traumatic childhood. I never told you this, but my drinking buddy stiffed me on the bill multiple times"

"But Raph, why not for once in your life... Choose love?"

"Okay, let me tell you about love, buddy. Love is a scam. Same people who proclaim love are the ones who pollute the air, join love cults, kills animals, spill oil, hates homosexuals, read bargabe on the beaches even if they have a stack of garbage next to them, make fun of feminine things, they make spelling mistakes, make bad and offensive jokes about others, promote insane vaccine conspiracies––"

"You're right. Take the nunchuck" they said this time handing him the weapon once and for all.

Raphael entered the light bulb warehouse, and Mikey prepared to hear him destroy the hundreds of them. But instead nothing was heard, and they saw their half-brother dragging out a gigant light bubl.

"All right, come on, Miks. Give me a hand with this thing. I don't wanna drop it," he said, concentrating on his work, putting on that blank expression he always got when his feelings were disconcerting to him and he just wanted to ignore them and concentrate on what he was doing.

"Aw gee, Raph! You're the best" they said happily helping him carry it.

"And don't forget it. Now let's screw this into God's gaping neck hole and see what happens"

And so they did, they went to the body of God and removed the broken light bulb to place the new one. Waoh, blurring and twisting the light bulbs reminded Raph of when he was decapitated and brought back to life but his body and his head didn't join together and he had to be twisting it every time he fell. They were bad times, Casey and Donnie let his headless body fall into a puddle of their vomit once, the damn ones.

"Inka. Dinka. Binka. Bonka. Boom!" He recited while they screwed in the new light bulb and it began to flicker, until it finished turning on, giving God life again. Before the resurrection of the great creator, Heaven began to shine again, the River of Joy returned to its heavenly glory and the angels stopped crying.

"Aghhh. Ah! What a refreshing nap" said God rising from His ancient eternal resting place "I didn't have any of my usual recurring nightmares. Did I snore?"

"No, God, you were dead" responded His most beloved creation whose life He let be a shit, Michelangelo.

"Daed tired, that is. I hope you rested well, Lordy" the red demon lied and laughed nervously.

"Why is you being so modest, Raph? God, I'm the one who killed you. Raph is the one who brung you back to life" but those in the orange tunic decided to tell the truth. And God started laughing, that laugh He makes when He "already knows," because of course He knew.

"I know all that, Mikey. I was just testing you" because of course the bastard did. "I was going to smite you. Maybe even mega smite you. But for your honesty about killing me, I forgive you" decree the deity. He grabbed the nunchaku that killed Him. "So, this is the murder weapon. Hmmm." He dropped it from the sky and said smilingly, "Look out below."

Yes, that brick was probably going to kill someone, or ruin someone's life, or both. Or maybe its just killed some annoying guy complaining about the happy ending and the holes in the plot that no one cares about, but no one is going to miss him.

"Now, Raphael, I'd like to know why you were so modest about bringing me back to life"

"Pfft. Ah, geez, man. When you're a dirty, dark demon, and you don't allow God to just die, it's bad for your reputation" he explained his point seriously "I'll never live this down" God laughed at his words.

"Haha, such integrity from one of Hell's tiniest flunkies. I would never have thunk it" He reached out to pat the little demon's head "Raph, I don't usually do this, but I really like you, and you did save my life" He said, leaving the caresses "Maybe that's why I like you. Huhuhu. Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to give you a single wish. Right now, no holds barred, anything you want" Mikey just watched the conversation unfold.

"Anything at all?"

"Do you want wealth? Fame? Success? You wanna be a big shot?" He began to name everything he could ask for "Would you like to lose weight? Eat endless pies? Maybe total enlishtenment? Pick one thing. It's hard, isn't it?" Raphael thought about it.

"...Does the wish have to be for me?" he asked.

"Strange. No one has ever asked that" God said "The answer is the wish can be for anyone you want"

"Well, than my wish is for Leona the Mermaid to come back alive. For Cass"

"Interesting. May I ask why?"

"Why? Because Cass has tried so hard and done so much" he began to explain, letting his emotions come out "Because Cass deserves love. Because the love of Cass's life is Leona, and because..."

"Because what?"

"...Because I love Casey, and I want them to be happy once and for all" he confessed, shit, that toothy human had stolen his heart... They were and are the best friend he has ever had.

"Aww, that's beautiful, dude" said Mikey.

"Yeah, yeah, leave alone" said the demon, he wasn't going to let his feelings out again for at least the next nine hundred years.

"I'm going to give you a big huge" they said approaching and taking the red one in a hug, he left and snuggled into the chest of his younger sibling "Do I feel tears on my tunic? Are you cryin', "Raphie?" they said borrowed and surprised.

"I'm not crying. I'm not crying. I... That was me laughing" he said and faked a laugh "Hihi. I'm a clown. I just... I have no feelings, you know me. I'm all like, bibbidi-bobbidi bibbidi..." he was heard sobbing "Boop!" The demon took a deep breath. "Skippity-skoppity skip... Sewer apples."

"I hereby grant Raphael's wish" God proclaimed "Leona the Mermaid comes back to life for Cass. Clap!" He exclaimed as He gave a great applause, a roar was heard and divine waves were formed. He had done His thing.

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In the land of the living and mortal, a person with black hair and squirrel, rabbit, beaver, all the nicknames you can think of, teeth, was sitting on the rocks on the beach mourning the loss of their beloved mermaid. They was resting on a large rock behind her, so beautiful, until she began to decompose.

"I hate this. Everything sucks," said the queen, although that was just a title, they wouldn't feel like a queen, and they certainly weren't fit to rule. "My crazy mom finally died, and yet, where is the glory? And what is that smell? My boots or Leona's rotting fish body?... Sorry Leona"

"Apology accepted, Cass" they heard behind them say "By the way, what reeks are your boots"

They turned around and saw the mermaid alive. Alive and smiling at them.

"Leona? You're alive?" They jumped over the stones and went to their beloved who received them in her arms.

They both looked into each other's eyes, happy about this miracle, and kissed. There is finally peace and happiness in Casey's life.

"Just don't stab me anymore, okay? There's other ways to get to my heart" their girlfriend told them when they separated from their kiss. And they kissed again.

The end.

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"What?!" said a man coming out of his window "Why does it end so quickly?! You didn't even rewrite the entire chapter, and why did you only copy what it said in the English subtitles and barely adapt the dialogues to how the TMNT characters would say it?! You know so little about English? You live in America and you still watch shows in Spanish and that's why you don't know how to reinterpret it because you've only seen the Latin dub? What an idiot. And why didn't you write the scene of them fuck–? Agh" a brick fell on his head and he died.

End

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"Oh, a fun fact. Did you guys know that Leona the Mermaid is your half-sister?" God told to Mikey and Raph

"WHAT?!!"

Now, thats the end. By.

[lorenfangor]

I heard that #40 was super homophobic :/ so I skipped it. But now your fic is making me want to give it a try. How problematic is it? Are the characters worth it?

Okay.

Okay.

Let’s talk about #40.

The plot of The Other (a Marco POV) is that Marco sees an Andalite on a video tape sent in to some Unsolved Mysteries-esque TV show, and he assumes it’s Ax and hauls ass to save him from being captured. Ax, being Ax, has videotaped the show, and they pull it up and Tobias uses his hawk eyes to figure out that it’s not Ax, it’s another Andalite - one without a tailblade. Ax is appalled at the presence of this vecol (an Andalite word for a disabled person) and we find out that he and others of his species have deep ingrained prejudices against at least some kinds of disabled people.

Despite this, Marco and Ax go looking for the Andalite in question because he’s been spotted by national TV, and they meet a second one, named Gafinilan-Estrif-Valad. The vecol is Mertil-Iscar-Elmand, a former fighter pilot with a reputation and Gafinilan’s coded-gay life partner. The two of them have been on Earth since book 1; they crashed their fighters on the planet and have been trapped there thanks to the GalaxyTree going down. Gafinilan has adopted a human cover, a physics professor, and they’ve been living in secret ever since.

Thanks to that tape, Mertil has been captured by Visser Three, and he’s not morph-capable so he can’t escape. Gafinilan wants to trade the leader of the “Andalite Bandits” to the Yeerks to get his boyfriend back; he can’t fight to free Mertil because he’s terminally ill with a genetic disorder that will eventually kill him, and (it’s implied that) the Yeerks aren’t interested in disabled hosts, even disabled Andalite ones. Despite Ax’s ableism, the Animorphs agree to work with Gafinilan and free Mertil, and they’re successful. Marco ends the book talking about how there are all kinds of prejudices you’ll have to face and boxes that people will put you in, and you can’t necessarily escape them even if they’re reductive and inaccurate, but you can still live your life with pride.

So now that I’ve explained the plot, I’m gonna come out the gate saying that I love this book. I love it wholeheartedly, I love Marco’s narration, I love Ax having to deal with Andalite society’s ableism, I love these characters, and as a disabled lesbian I don’t find these disabled gays to be inherently Bad Rep.

that’s of course just my opinion and it doesn’t overshadow other issues that people might have? but at the same time, I don’t like the seemingly-common narrative that this book is all bad all the time, and I want to offer up a different read.To that end, I’m going to go point by point through some of the criticisms and common complaints that I’ve seen across the fandom over the years.

“Mertil and Gafinilan were put on a bus after one appearance because they were gay!”

this is one I’m going to have to disagree with hardcore. I talked about this yesterday, but in Animorphs there are a lot of characters or ideas that only get introduced once or twice and then get written off or dropped - in order off the top of my head, #11 (the Amazon trip), #16 (Fenestre and his cannibalism), #17 (the oatmeal), #18 (the hint of Yeerks doing genetic experiments in the hospital basement), #24/#39/#42 (the Helmacrons’ ability to detect morphing tech), #25 (the Venber), #28 (experiments with limiting brain function through drugs), #34 (the Hork-Bajir homeworld being retaken, the Ixcila procedure), #36 (the Nartec), #41 (Jake’s Bad Future Dream), and #44 (the Aboriginal people Cassie meets in Australia) all feature things that either seem to exist just for the sake of having a particular trope explored Animorphs-style or to feature an idea for One Single Book.

This is a series that’s episodic and has a very limited overall story arc because of how children’s literature in the 90s was structured - these books are closer to The Saddle Club, Sweet Valley High, Animal Ark, or The Baby-Sitters’ Club than they are to Harry Potter or A Series of Unfortunate Events. Mertil and Gafinilan don’t get to be in more than one book because they’re not established in the main cast or the supporting cast, I don’t think that it’s solely got anything to do with their being gay.

“Gafinilan has AIDS, this is a book about AIDS, and that’s homophobic!”

Okay, this is… hard. First, yes, Gafinilan does have a terminal illness. Yes, Gafinilan is gay. No, Soola’s Disease is not AIDS.

I have two responses to this, and I’ll attack them in order of their occurrence in my thought. First, there’s coded AIDS diseases all over genre fiction, especially genre fiction from that era, because the AIDS epidemic made a massive impact on public life and fundamentally changed both how the public perceived illness and queerness and how queer people themselves experienced it. I was too young to live through it, but my dad’s college roommate was out, and my dad himself has a lot of friends who he just ceases to talk about if the conversation gets past 1986 or so - this was devastating and it got examined in art for more reasons than “gay people all have AIDS”, and I dislike the implication that the only reason it could ever appear was as a tired stereotype or a message that Being Queer Means Death. Gafinilan is kind, fond of flowers, and fond of children - he’s multifaceted, and he’s got a terminal illness. Those kinds of people really exist, and they aren’t Bad Rep.

Second off, Soola’s Disease? Really isn’t AIDS. It’s a congenital genetic illness that develops over time, cannot be transmitted, and does not carry a serious stigma the way AIDS did. Gafinilan also has access to a cure - he could become a nothlit and no longer be afflicted by it, even if it’s considered somewhat dishonorable to go nothlit to escape that way. That’s not AIDS, and in fact at no point in my read and rereads did I assume that his having a terminal illness was supposed to be a commentary on homosexuality until I found out that other people were assuming it.

“Mertil losing his tail means he’s lost his masculinity, and that’s bad because he’s gay! That’s homophobic!”

so this is another one I’ve gotta hardcore disagree with, because while Mertil is one of two Very Obviously Queer Characters, he’s not the only character who loses something fundamental about himself, or even loses access to sexual and/or romantic capability in ways he was familiar with.

Tobias and Arbron both get ripped out of their ordinary normal lives by going nothlit in bad situations, and while they both wind up finding fulfillment and freedom despite that, it’s still traumatic, even more for Arbron I’d say than for Tobias. And on a psychological level, none of the main cast is left unmarked or free of trauma or free of deep change thanks to the bad things that have happened to them - they’re no less fundamentally altered than Mertil, even if it’s mental rather than physical. And yes, tail loss is equated with castration or emasculation, but that doesn’t automatically mean Mertil suffering it is tied to his homosexuality and therefore the takeaway we’re intended to have is “Being gay is tragic and makes you less of a man”. This is a series where bad shit happens to everyone, and enduring losses that take away things central to one’s self-conception or identity or body is just part of the story.

Also, frankly? Plenty of IRL disabled people have to grapple with a loss of sexual function, and again, they’re not Bad Rep just because they’re messy.

“Andalite society is confusingly written in this book, and the disability aspects are clearly just a coverup for the gay stuff!”

Andalite society is canonically sexist, a bit exceptionalist and prejudiced in their own favor, and pretty contradictory and often challenged internally on its own norms. In essence, it’s a pretty ordinary society, and they’re really realistic as sci-fi races go. It makes sense from that perspective that Andalites would tolerate scarring or a lost stalk eye or a lost skull eye, but not tolerate serious injuries that significantly impact your perceived quality of life. Ableism is like that - it’s not one-size-fits-all. I look at Ax’s reactions and I see a lot of my own family and friends’ behaviors - this vibes with my understanding of prejudice, you know?

“Mertil and Gafinilan have a tragic ending, which means the story is saying that being gay dooms you to tragedy!”

Mertil and Gafinilan have the best possible ending that they could ask for? They are victims of the war, they are suffering because of the war, they get the same cocktail of trauma and damage that every other soldier gets. But unlike Jake and Tobias and Marco, unlike Elfangor, unlike Aximili? Their ending comes in peace, in their own home. Gafinilan isn’t dying alone, he’s got the love of his life with him. Mertil isn’t going to be as isolated anymore, he’s got Marco for a friend. Animorphs is a tragedy, it’s not a happy story, it’s not something that guarantees a beautiful sunshine-and-roses ending for everyone, and I love tragedy, and so I will fight for this story. Yes, it hurts. Yes, it deserved better. But it’s not less meaningful just because it’s sad. Nobody is entitled to anything in this book, and it’s just as true for these two as it is for anyone else.

“It’s not cool that the only canonically gay characters in this series don’t get to be happy and trauma-free and unblemished Good Rep!”

This is one I can kind of understand, and I’ll give some ground to it, because it is sucky. The only thing I’ll say is that I stand by my argument that nothing that happens to Mertil and Gafinilan is unusual compared to what happens to the rest of the cast, and that their ending is way happier than Rachel and Tobias’s, or Jake and Cassie’s. But it’s a legitimate point of frustration, and the one argument I’ll say I agree has validity.

(Though, I also want to point out that I think there are plenty of equally queercoded characters in the story who aren’t Mertil and Gafinilan - Tobias, Rachel, Cassie, and Marco all get at least one or two moments that signal to me that they’re potentially LGBT+, not to mention Mr. Tidwell and Illim in #29 and their long-term domestic partnership. There’s no reason to assume that the only queer people here are those two aliens when Marco’s descriptions of Jake exist.)

“Marco uses slurs and reduces Gafinilan’s whole identity to his illness!”

Technically, yes, this is true, except putting it that way strips the whole passage of its context. Marco is discussing the boxes society puts you into, the ones you don’t have a choice about facing or escaping. He’s talking about negative stereotypes and reductive generalizations, he’s referring to them as bad things that you get inflicted upon you by an outside world or by friends who don’t know the whole story or the real you. The slurs he uses are real slurs that get thrown at people still, and they’re not okay, and the point is that they’re not okay but assholes are going to call you by them anyway. He ends by saying “you just have to learn to live with it”, and since this is coming from a fifteen-year-old Latino kid who we know is picked on by bullies for all sorts of reasons and who faces racism and homophobia? He knows what he’s talking about. He’s bitter about what’s been said and done, he’s not stating it like it’s a good thing.

Yes, absolutely, this speech is a product of its time, but it’s a product of its time that speaks of defiance and says “We aren’t what we’re said to be,” and in the year this was published? That’s a good message.

tl;dr The Other is good, actually, and Mertil and Gafinilan are incredible characters who deserve all the love they could possibly get.

[dumdumsun]

Forever and Never

A/N: One more chapter! You guys are a dream, thank you so much for reading ❤️

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, derogatory terms for homosexuality, blood/gore and death/dying

Word Count: 5690

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Eight: All Die Young

“Um… I think besides everything with Ricky… the night of homecoming was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life.”

“With Bradley Lewis’s death.”

“Yeah. I-I mean, it started off as a normal day, a-a great day, actually.”

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Awaking to a text from Stanley Barber, informing me that he was driving us to school, was a heavenly sight. Almost as heavenly as waking up beside the boy, himself in the near future. Grabbing my phone off its charger, I rolled onto my stomach and texted him back, my feet giddily kicking in the air. It amazed me how he could change my entire demeanor within seconds. I could go from a sniveling baby to a hopping and skipping lovesick fool when it comes to Stan. And I don’t even think he meant to have this much of an effect on me. I wondered if I had the same effect on him? I never really paid much attention to it, just accepted the fact that he would never reciprocate my feelings. Even during that time, I had no idea if we were a couple or just adoring each other. It didn’t matter, though. Stan was finally looking at me the way I wanted him to.

Jacob stared at me with unease as I skipped down the stairs, prancing my way into the kitchen for breakfast. “Mom, (Y/N)’s being weird.” He called out as he opened the front door to leave. Pam hushed him before handing me a plate of food.

“Hush, now, Jacob. Let her be in a good mood for once.”

“For once?” I frowned and sat myself down. Pam smiled over at me and gingerly kissed my forehead as I began eating.

“Yes. For once.”

When I finished eating and readying myself for the day, I received a text message from Stan.

Stan: I’m outside

Me: omw

Pocketing my cell, I called out to my family before stepping outside to see Stan in his car with a grin on his face. “Good morning, lovely!” He called out above his music as I strode up to the vehicle, climbing inside. I gave him my usual greeting before leaning over and kissing his cheek. He chuckled and waited for me to strap myself in before riding down our street. It was clear he was in a good mood, because he let me pick the music for the ride. As Waterloo by ABBA flowed out of the drawn-down car windows, I felt the comforting warmth of his hand latch onto mine. Our combined hands shook to the beat of the music as we happily sang the words to the song. Remember when I said I had only been this happy one other time? This was even better. There were never any consequences to being with Stan, never a dull moment, never a hint of doubt between our bond. I’d never been as close to anyone as I was to him. And now at last, we were even closer in more ways than one.

Stepping onto the school campus, we were no longer strangers. I still walked within my bubble, and I probably always will throughout my life, but from now on there was no need to allow Stan inside. He was planning to be beside me through it all. He wasn’t afraid to be alienated with me any longer, we were to embrace it together. We were going to allow the stares, the whispers, the rumors. Allow them to act as water on a duck’s back. I was proud of him, I was proud of us. Even as I felt the dark brown glare of Ricky Berry trail after the two of us, watching our bashful and lovestruck glances throughout classes, the way we held hands in the halls. I was certain he got the message that I was no longer his, despite the forceful way he claimed me the previous week.

At lunch, I was just about to declare my spot in line when I felt a gentle hold on my arm. Stan, with a warm grin, pulled me away and walked us to an empty table. “Um, Stan, I’d kinda like to eat lunch today.”

“I know, Nugget,” He held up two brown sacks. “I made lunch for the both of us.” The way his grin grew prideful made my heart swell in affection. We sat across from each other as he slid the bag over to me.

“Awe, Stanley, you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to, though,” He shrugged and watched as I took each item out of the bag and carefully organized them. “So, about homecoming. I was thinking we could make a big deal out of it. If you want to.”

“I totally want to,” I nodded, eyes trained on my task. “What were you planning, beautiful?”

I didn’t miss the bashful blush tinting his cheeks when I snuck a glance up at him. “Uh… Well, I was thinking when I pick you up, we can take, like, a shitload of pictures. Like, just let Aunt Pam go at it. She’ll love it.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“And then after the dance, I wanna take you out to eat.”

“Really? Where to?”

“Nothing too fancy. You don’t like all that. I was driving around yesterday and saw this restaurant that specializes in their pasta,” I suddenly felt the tip of my nose being gently pinched. Looking up, Stan was playfully wiggling my nose with a goofy grin on his face. “I know how much you love pasta.”

“I do,” I laughed and swatted his hand away. “And after that? Are we robbing a bank and driving off into the night?”

“If only,” He wistfully sighed. “But alas, I’m afraid we’ll have to remain trapped within Brownsville until we’re old enough to run away.”

I gave a mischievous smirk. “The entire act of running away is rebellious. Why wait until we’re allowed?”

“Because, frankly, I don’t feel like running away,” We shared a laugh. “But in all seriousness, we go to my house and just chill. We can have a dance contest. Our last was a tie, remember?”

The antsy excitement rushed through my veins the closer the night approached. I was never one for making a scene about school dances, but this time was different. It was my senior year, I had Stan, Ricky was out of the picture. Or at least, he was for the next hour. After lunch, Stan walked me to photography class, the two of us hand-in-hand as we had been for the entire day. Approaching the door, he wished me a good class before leaning in and pecking my lips. Our fingertips lingered as he pulled away and continued to his own class. Feeling my burning cheeks, I turned to go into the room, but an arm blocked my path. “Hey, Zip.”

Inwardly groaning, I looked up at Ricky. His bruises were beginning to fade, the dark ring around his right eye taking its time to heal. I silently hissed at the sight of him. “What.”

“Listen, I just wanted to apologize. Brad talked to me the other day and… made me realize that what I did was really fucked up. Really, babe, I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“You’re so fucking lucky I haven’t called the police on you, Ricky-”

“Yes, I know,” He sighed, discreetly rolling his eyes. “And I really appreciate it. Gives me a chance to better myself, you know? Help you better yourself. And what better way to make up for what I did than to make homecoming the most magical night for you? Yeah? We still on for tonight?”

My eyes dangerously widened at his hopeful smile, his expression melting under my fiery stare. “Are you kidding me?! Hell no! You think I wanna be anywhere near you?!”

“(Y/N)-”

“Besides, I already have another date.” I shrugged and moved to duck under his arm, but he leaned against the doorframe to decline me access inside. I quickly backed away from him, my fear kicking in at his brash behavior.

“What, Stan The Faggot? You’re really going with that fucking twink when you could be going with me?” He laughed right in my face. I lifted my chin and stepped forward.

“Don’t ever speak about Stanley that way. He’s the most kind-hearted person I’ve ever met and is an even better boyfriend than you’ll ever be to anyone-”

“Boyfriend?!” He cackled. “I knew it. How could I not? It was so obvious! You’re fucking crazy.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You don’t see the way he dresses? He’s fucking weird, (Y/N). He’s a goddamn drug dealer. What is he gonna offer you? Huh? Free weed? Babe… Come on, you are so better off with me.”

He lightly shook his head with a smile of disbelief as I took out my phone. “I just remembered. You’re not supposed to be near me, talking to me, or even looking at me. I think Jacob would love to hear about this-”

“Fuck you.” Ricky hissed before stomping away, leaving me in an empty hallway that was filled with the ringing of the tardy bell not too long afterwards. At that point, I was just about sick of guys. I was irritable during gym class, running off my anger and letting it steam off my shoulders. When the coach told us we could stop, I took greedy gulps of air and trudged to a nearby bench to rest. As I plopped down, I noticed Syd and Dina walking together to the opposite side of the field. It was good to know they were to finally talk everything out. Now for her and Stan to make up…

I was thankful for a split second for the shadow that casted over the burning sun raining down on me, but huffed upon seeing who it was. Some guy from my math class stood before me. He was shirtless, displaying his six-pack and chest glistening with sweat. He beamed down at me with a suave smirk. “Hey, Zip.”

“Hey.”

“So… I know you and Ricky are… you know. So, since the dance is tonight-”

“Sorry, I already have a date.”

“Right,” He nodded slowly, beginning to back away. “I should’ve known. No worries.”

-------------------------------------------------

“And he just walked away?!” Stan laughed on our drive home from school. My hold on his hand tightened as I tried to hold in my own laugh.

“No, he ran away!” I snorted, triggering the increase of his laughter.

“What is that, the fourth guy today?”

“Don’t remind me.” I rolled my eyes as he pulled up to my house. Unbuckling myself, I froze at Stan’s intentuous stare. He reached over and grabbed my hand again, raising it to his lips.

“I expect you to dazzle everyone like you usually do.” He kissed my knuckles.

My breath hitched. “Of course. And I expect you to do better than me, like you usually do. What time should I be ready?”

“I’m picking you up at eight. On the dot.”

“On the dot, got it.” I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. He returned it and tilted his head to try and deepen it, but I pulled away with a giggle. Stan watched in awe as I got out of the car, snatching up my backpack as I did. Waving him off, I turned and headed inside my house.

I had to look perfect. Not just for Stan, but for me. This was a new era of myself, I had shedded my skin and materialized as something beautiful. I had to showcase just how beautiful I’ve become. So, after my shower, I struck up a playlist and dolled myself up. Starting off with my hair, I simply pinned it up with white butterfly hair clips. My makeup was nothing special, other than the baby pink eyeshadow and the small application of glitter over it. To seal up the look, I added cherry lip gloss to give my lips a bit of a pop. I hoped Stan would appreciate it. My face burned at the thought of him tasting the cherry on my mouth. Backing away from my mirror before I exploded, I entered my closet. My dress was something I never thought I would ever wear. It matched my makeup in baby pink. An off-the-shoulder look that hugged my torso and flared out to the floor. I managed to zip it up myself before slipping on a pair of white heels. Turning to my reflection, I let out a breath.

I had never looked any more beautiful, I think. I remember gazing at my parents’ wedding photo as a child and wishing to look as beautiful as my mother one day. I wondered if she was looking down at me, proud of who I had become at that point. Gazing fondly down at the ring on my pinky, I blinked back the stinging of my tears.

Yeah, she’s proud.

An eager three knocks sounded at my door and I hurried to open it. Pam immediately teared up the moment her eyes settled on me, camera ready in her hand. “Oh, my baby… You look so gorgeous! Just like your mom!” She gushed. I could only chuckle as she took multiple pictures of me. Hearing a taunting laugh, I looked down the hall to see Jacob leaning against the wall, silently mocking his mother’s excitement. I kindly showed my middle finger to him, much to Pam’s disappointment. “Oh, come on. Now it’s in the picture! Jake, leave your sister alone!”

“Sorry, ma’am.” He feigned innocence and batted his eyelashes at me. I playfully sneered at him before David’s voice sounded from downstairs.

“(Y/N), Stan is here!”

Grabbing my phone, I checked the time. Eight o’clock. On the dot. That punctual bastard. Clutching my phone in my hand, I nervously made my way to the top of the stairs. Everyone was waiting for me at the bottom, including Stan. God, he looked so cute. He was wearing his baby blue suit, some sort of black and tan shirt beneath that oddly went well with the suit. Leave it to Stan to defy the laws of fashion. I could tell he paid extra care to his hair, the way it was styled perfectly for his curls to sit off to the left side of his forehead. I was sure I was grinning like a maniac as I descended the stairs, but Stan’s expression was the reason I was grinning. He looked absolutely astonished and at a loss for words. His jaw was dropped and eyes were bulging as he watched me walk closer to him. When I quietly greeted him, he couldn’t even respond. Great job, (Y/N), you broke him.

“How’d I do?” I whispered and hooked arms with him. At my touch, he snapped out of his haze and beamed at me.

“You certainly did not disappoint, lovely.”

“Awe, and you aren’t looking too bad yourself, beautiful.”

Pam squealed from the sidelines before rushing over to us. “Stanley, doesn’t she look stunning?”

“Absolutely, Aunt Pam.” He grinned at the older woman as she began taking photo after photo of us. We decided to indulge her and pose for each one. All the while, I felt a red hot glare from the side. Glancing its way, I noticed Jacob fuming at the sight of Stan and I hugged up on each other. His Big Brother Mode was going to activate the second Pam was done with us. To my horror, she finished sooner than I thought. As she excitedly showed our photos to David, I watched as Jacob slowly approached us. Just as he opened his mouth to spit some sort of threat towards the poor, unsuspecting Stan, I turned to the front door and flung it open.

“Well, we really have to go! We’re already late, you know.” I chuckled and gently shoved Stan out of the house.

“Oh! Yeah, of course!” Pam called out after us. “You two be careful out there! And have fun!”

“And (Y/N)-” Jacob began to add in a warning, but I waved him off, mouthing an ‘I know’ as Stan scrambled to hold the car door open for me. I quietly thanked him and climbed inside. The car ride to the dance was very pleasant. The hum of soft rock music fit the mood of our night as we quietly sang along. Stan found a parking spot rather quickly and leaned back in his seat after turning the car off. Bringing the visor down, I checked myself in the mirror, gently running my fingers over my white gold hoop earrings gifted to me by my dad for my previous birthday. They were pretty expensive and I hardly wore them, so why not? Hearing a click, I turned to see Stan lighting up a joint. After he took a hit, he looked my way and smiled, offering it to me. Without any hesitation, I joined him in a quick session. As I took my third hit, I felt his eyes on me.

“What?” I raised a brow and exhaled the smoke. His eyes shown in adoration.

“What a sight you are…”

“A sight? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you’re sitting in my old-school car, looking like a goddess and smoking a joint. You’re so beautiful… Just perfection.”

“Jeez, maybe I should get dolled up to smoke more often.” I joked and handed it back to him. We shared a chuckle before Stan put the smoke out. He gave me a wink before getting out of the car and rounding it to let me out.

Our highs kicked in the moment we stepped into the gymnasium. Our clammy hands found each other as we walked further in. I let him lead me through the sea of dancing bodies and bouncing balloons, the two of us hitting them out of our way as we ended up near the bleachers. When we stopped, we overlooked the scene before us as I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Best theater in town, Stan.”

“Best theater in town, (Y/N),” He looked down at me with furrowed brows. “So, why aren’t you on stage?”

“I don’t perform without my co-star.”

“Well, in that case.” He took hold of both my hands and swung us around. At that, we let loose, broadcasting our best secret dance contest moves to anyone willing to watch. I thought it was perfect. The two outcasts, both outcasts for difference reasons, wildly dancing together away from everyone else. And yet, they were the life of the party. It was meant to be. My feet stung from the stomping and jumping I was doing in my heels, but I couldn’t care less.

“I fucking hate this song!” I joyfully shouted, eliciting a laugh from my date.

“Me, too!” From the sound of our laughter, it was clear the two of us were high. Three songs later, in the middle of my rounds of spinning, I felt Stan’s hands on my waist, attempting to stop me. When I did, my surroundings rotated around me and I leaned into him for support. Looking up, I saw Sydney awkwardly smiling at the both of us.

“Oh! Hey, Syd! I love your dress.” I smiled and gestured to her attire. Her smile widened.

“Thanks, (Y/N), y-you look great.”

“Awe, thanks.” I gushed and bashfully waved her off. My attention turned to Stan, who had a look of indifference on his face, but a hint of pain in his eyes. Sydney noticed it, too, and looked back at me.

“Uh… Can I borrow Stan for a second?”

“Go ahead.” I motioned. Stan stared at me for a second before following Syd onto the bleachers. I suddenly felt very out of place, so I decided to keep my hands busy and get myself some punch. Thankfully, I found Dina there, pouring herself a cup. When she noticed me, she quickly set it back down on the table and reached her arms out for a hug. “Dina, you look so good!”

“Are you kidding me?!” We engulfed each other in a tight hug before pulling away. “You look fucking amazing! You always have to show out, huh?”

“I try…” I lowered my voice. As the two of us talked, lonely guys would come up to us and ask to dance, but we would hold hands and politely decline. After the third walked away, Dina turned to me.

“Hey, so… In detention… The thing that Jenny said about Ricky. Was that true…?” The hesitancy in her voice made me deeply inhale as I nodded in confirmation. Instantly, her eyes welled up with tears as her hands covered her mouth. “(Y/N)... I’m so sorry. If I had known, I would’ve been there for you.”

“No, no, Dina!” I quickly took her hands into mine, my heart wrenching. “It’s okay! I’m okay…”

“You’re okay? H-How are you okay?” She frowned and blinked back her tears. A warm smile twitched its way onto my face.

“Stan… he’s been making everything better…” I admitted. Dina’s face lit up before she hugged me all over again.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)! I’m so happy for you! God, you fucking deserve it, girl!” She exclaimed as I hugged back, quietly laughing at her excitement. Our hug was cut short, when Dina caught sight of our dates heading toward us. I turned to them and happily watched as they approached us, their hands lazily clasped together. Sydney held out Stan’s hand over to mine and I gladly took over. “Stan!” Dina grinned at him as he allowed me to lean against his side.

“Dina, you look, um… you look like a Christmas tree.” He awkwardly complimented as I rolled my eyes. Dina looked down at herself.

“Thanks, dude.”

“Uh-huh.” He nodded before his eye caught something. “Oh, god. Whitaker’s still watching us.” He sighed. We directed our gaze to our principal, who indeed was standing across the gym, arms folded and a piercing gaze on the four of us.

“It’s probably the most exciting thing that’s ever happened in his entire life.” Sydney crossed her arms, as well, as we all grinned. Stan leaned forward and placed his other hand over ours as he hummed.

“I don’t know, guys. I mean, we’re wanted criminals. Why are we out here in the open? Exposed. First rule of the heist is split the loot and split the fuck up, right?”

“We don’t have any loot, Stan.” I raised a brow in false confusion as Dina smirked at me.

“Yeah, all we did was disrespect this fine institution.”

“And disrespect ourselves.” Sydney finished, Stan humming again before we all shared a soft laugh. Stan’s smile disappeared as a slow song came on. I barely recognized it, but he sure seemed to know it. His free hand reached up to cover his eyes.

“Oh, no. On principle, I just- I can’t,” He groaned and began to free himself from my grasp. “Sorry, this playlist is all over the map. I’ll- I’ll be back.” He squeezed between Syd and I to leave, but I followed right behind. He was nearly at the DJ table, when I managed to stop his striding.

“Stan! Stan, wait!” I laughed and turned him to me. “Come on, I wanna dance to this.”

“(Y/N), I have to enlighten that poor DJ over there.”

“After this song?” I pouted and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I don’t care about the music. I’ll dance to anything with you.”

“That is a lie, but fine,” He sighed before his hands rested on my waist. Our dance started off with timid shuffling, Stan clearly not used to slow dancing. I chuckled and directed his eyes away from his shoes.

“Stan, it’s just swaying, I promise.” I whispered. He gave me an incredulous look before moving with me to the music. Of course, since it’s Stan, he had to add in a few spins that had us stumbling. We laughed aloud when we almost toppled over, and we earned a few weird stares, but we didn’t give a shit. Just as it seemed we were getting the hang of it, a voice that rang throughout the gym interrupted the song and dance.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” Mr File announced from the stage. “If I may have your attention. Stop talking. Look up here please.”

“Thank god, they stopped the song.” Stan whispered in my ear as we turned to the stage. I playfully and gently hit his chest as our teacher continued.

“It is my privilege to introduce your homecoming king and queen, Jeff Butters and Julie Frasheski!”

As the homecoming royalty hopped on stage, we all clapped and cheered for them, Stan and I exchanging looks that said ‘I have no idea who these people are’. “What up, Westinghouse!” Jeff exclaimed into the microphone, his queen by his side, the both of them wearing sashes and crowns. “Yeah! Where my boys at? Whoo! Where do I begin? I wanna thank my mom for meeting my dad-”

His amusing speech was cut off by Bradley Lewis running onstage and clamping his hand over the mic. “Listen up!” He yelled as the feedback screeched. Our smiles dropped as he swayed, clearly drunk. As Mr File tried to take the mic from him, he thrashed about and moved away. “Give me a second! I would like to take this moment to talk about something very important that affects everyone here.”

“What the fuck…?” I muttered and watched as he turned to the middle of the crowd.

“Sydney Novak!” His exclamation sent a flinch through Stan and I, and I felt him tense under my hold on his arm. “Hey, Sydney! Raise your hand! Raise your hand! Give a wave so everybody can see you!” When she didn’t comply, he moved on, proceeding to pull out Sydney’s supposed diary and flipping through it, exposing all of her secrets to the whole school. He told about how at Ricky’s party, she had kissed Dina upstairs. As he spoke, he hopped off the stage and pushed past people to stalk closer to his victim, the path to her and Dina made clear. I could see the panic in Sydney’s eyes. My blood boiled at the derogatory term he used for her sexuality, but Stan was just about ready to pop. His jaw was severely clenched and his face was flushed red in anger. I felt him move forward, but kept an arm in front of him. But there was no holding him back after the next thing Brad exposed. “And my god, don’t even get me started on the daddy issues on this one. I mean, it’s fucking worse than Zip’s! And we all know about that!” That comment punched me straight in the gut and Stan ripped his arm from my hold, pushing his way through the crowd. “Everyone in Sydney’s life thinks that she’s a piece of shit. And I mean everyone!” His cackling was interrupted when Stan broke through everyone.

“Hey, man! Leave her alone!” He went to stand in front of his friend, but Brad immediately swung, his fist connecting with Stan’s face and sending him to the ground, unconscious. My breathing stuttered before I wordlessly shoved everyone out of the way, trying to get to his limp form. There were a few people separating us that wouldn’t budge. I growled as Brad continued, shaking his fist from the blow.

“But that is not even the weirdest thing about Sydney… Novak,” He took a few steps forward, and I watched as Sydney wiped a tear from her eye. This whole situation was fucked. “Get this. Sydney claims that she has-”

To this day, I have no fucking clue how it happened, but Brad’s words were cut short when his blood and brains exploded onto everyone near him. Including me. I heard nothing but white noise the second the blood platter smacked into my hair, onto my face, my dress, my shoes. Brad’s headless body fell limp to the ground, the remaining of his brains spilling out from where his head should have been. His head should’ve been there… His head should be there! I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak. My eyes were glued to the bloodied corpse on the ground. I was sure everyone was screaming and running around, but I couldn’t do the same. I saw shaking Dina’s form, trembling as she moved, but my focus snapped right back to the fucking corpse. I should’ve moved. I should’ve screamed. I should’ve ran. I should have been crying and gagging and panicking, but I just… I couldn’t. I don’t know what the fuck.

“(Y/N)!” I felt a hand pulling me by the arm, but I was in such a state of shock that I blindly let whoever drag me out of the school- no, the crime scene. I felt the cool air nip at my exposed skin, but I still couldn’t have been bothered to react to anything. It wasn’t until I felt a piece of bloody meat slip down my face and disappear into my dress that I could breathe again. I let out a blood-curdling scream as I felt it run down my skin.

“It’s in my dress! It’s touching me!” I cried. The mess of curls in front of me whipped around to face me. Through my teary-eyed vision, I could make out that it was Stan. He was awake, he was fine. But I wasn’t.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?!”

“It’s in my fucking dress!” I gagged as I felt it run down my stomach. “Stan, a piece of his fucking brain-”

He firmly grabbed me by the shoulders and rushed me to his car. I hyperventilated as he placed me in the passenger seat. Before closing the door, he reached into my dress from the bottom and slid his hand from my knees, past my thighs and planted his palm on my stomach. He gagged when his hand touched the meat, grabbing hold of it and ripping his hand from my dress, throwing the flesh to the ground. Stumbling a bit, he shut my door and rounded the car to drive. I had to ride with my window down, letting the wind blow against my face to prevent the contents in my stomach from resurfacing into Stan’s car. He drove all around town, calling out for Sydney. He would glance over at me every once and awhile when I would gag or groan, but that was it.

What a sight I was.

Do I look beautiful now, Stan?

-------------------------------------------------

When Stan decided to give up on the search for Sydney, he sped us to his house. The sirens of police cars and ambulances echoed within my empty mind. But the moment I left the car, I hurled my guts up into Stan’s yard. He caught me before I could fall and rubbed my back until I emptied my stomach. Then when I was done, I did the same for him.

I had no concept of time, I can’t remember how long we were throwing up in his front lawn, but when we were done, he guided me inside the house and down to his room. The second he let go of me to retrieve new clothes, my entire body trembled and shook uncontrollably. “S-Stan… S-S-Stan.” I whimpered out. He returned to me with clothes tucked under one of his arms. He held me by the elbow and guided me to his bathroom, sitting me down on the toilet lid before starting up the shower for me.

“Nugget? Hey, do you want me to-”

“N-No.” I don’t know why I said that. I needed him in that room with me. He was patient enough to look away as I undressed, nearly falling a few times, and stepped into the shower. He left the door slightly ajar, so I was sure he could hear my sobbing as I sat down, letting the water rinse me of Bradley Lewis’s blood and guts.

I returned to Stan in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of his sweatpants. He stood from his bed and carefully watched the way I moved. The way I slowly blinked and walked two steps at a time toward him. Silently, he lifted his covers for me to lay down. I stared at him emptily for a few beats before complying, my back facing him. I felt his lips on my neck and gladly welcomed the kiss before he whispered into my ear, “I’m gonna shower now, okay? I won’t be long.”

“Go ahead.” I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. As Stan showered, my shaking hands reached up and freed my locks from my hair clips. I tried to keep my crying near-silent as I did so, but I wasn’t too sure how loud I was being. Within time, he had returned and laid down beside me in bed. And from the warmth I felt when his back touched mine, I could tell he was shirtless. It was painfully silent as we both unevenly breathed. I bit my fingers to keep myself from crying again. Everything about me felt unbalanced. I wanted to be beaten even. It’s what I deserved for not taking care of myself.

“Hey.” Stan’s whisper broke my train of thought.

“H-Hey…”

“You asleep?”

“No… You?”

“No.” He muttered as I felt the bed dip when he turned around to spoon me. His leg draped over mine as his arms pulled me closer. He pressed his lips to the side of my neck as he deeply inhaled. I closed my eyes and willed myself to ask the question brewing in my mind,

“Do you have any idea what the fuck happened? B-Brad just… h-he fucking…”

“I know,” He murmured against my skin, his hold tightening as well as his throat. I could tell by the way he choked on his breath. “I… I’ll explain it another day. N-Not tonight.”

As we fell asleep an hour later, I knew he’d never explain it.

—————————————

Taglist: @nate-isnt-great @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @magicalgothpandamaker

[ghost0loxer]

Imagine, a gender fluid teenager like myself has a favourite/feel-good film and that film is “Just One of the Guys,”from the mid 80s.

Picture this: theatre class, we watch “She’s The Man”, a dreamworks film from the 2000s. And yet, the social justice issues within the film are glaringly obvious to today’s society. Don’t get me wrong, it can be a funny film in a group setting - but then there are scenes that are just uncomfortable. Now, we discussed these themes in class, but I just can’t help but think about the film that came before it. Yes, StM (she’s the mans) is a modern day adaption of Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night” but I was thinking about the modern day adaption before StM, “Just One of the Guys” from the mid 80s.

I love this film. For multiple reasons, which I hope to discuss.

Number one, our main character. Terry Griffith is stubborn. If she thinks something is right, she won’t let anyone say no or get in her way. Now in some cases, this is great. It’s definitely a shift in the usual romantic comedy female lead (especially for the 80s). But it’s one of her biggest flaws. In the beginning, Terry doesn’t win a contest for a part-time job at the Sun Tribune. She believes her article was amazing, but she speaks with her English teacher and he gives it to her straight. “You don’t have what it takes to be a reporter.” Her article is boring; it’s about the nutritional value of the lunch menu in the school cafeteria, of course it’s boring. But the words her teacher tells her has her convinced it’s because she’s a woman. Thus, she leaves school for two weeks and transfers as a buy to another school who are holding the same competition. Once she gives her article, she is told almost the same thing, but this time, she’s given proper feedback to improve it. Of course, there was some irony with this scene between Terry and the teacher. “Just because you’re guy, doesn’t mean you can’t be sensitive or light.” Thing is, she doesn’t give up, she strives to fix it and finds a new angle. I love her determination, I love the way she doesn’t let others push her around. Furthermore, her transition to a man. In StM, Viola as a guy is made to be cringey and comedic, you watch and think, there’s no way a guy would do that. But Terry, having grown up with a younger brother and is actually smart, manages to nail the role. Sure, she has slip-ups, but she stays afloat and she’s not being over the top. She’s chill and convincing, yet you as the audience can tell she’s trying to appear masculine. Her lines are witty and she’s sharp. Someone has something to say, she’ll be able to backtrack and answer with a joke or sarcasm quickly. I like smart characters.

Another point, the way women are written in this film. A lot of women in this film are treated like shit, but it’s probably a realistic depiction of the 80s. Everyone is talking about dating and sex, it seems to be the only topic the women in this film speak about, unless they are Terry. Terry seems to be the only character in this film whose main goal is not romance or sex. She strives to be a reporter, she wants to prove herself, and she rejects the advances upon her frequently. Whether it’s the boys asking her on dates in halls, or her own boyfriend attempting to seduce her when her parents aren’t home, she doesn’t put them above herself, yet she still lets them down easily, unless they become more pushy (case in point, her boyfriend, Kevin, in the beginning). She can stand up for herself, but she’s not the only one. Her best friend, Denise is one of the many women looking for love, nevertheless, she holds standards. I will admit, I didn’t like Denise’s acting in the beginning; she’s not a great character, but even she manages to reject men’s advances constantly. She’s not afraid to say it bluntly and she expresses her true emotions when certain guys try to ask her out. She tells it to them straight, and I respect her for that (despite her lack of empathy for some). Terry’s brother is constantly hitting on Denise, but she stands her ground. She doesn’t hit him or curse him out, she spins words around him and always lead back to the key word “no.”

This is my third, and maybe final point, (because I’m not great at writing but I’m starting to get tired) the way they handle sexual orientation. It seems if you’re going to make a film about a cross-dressing woman who falls in love with a man, you have to discuss sexuality and this film is not afraid to. That was my biggest beef with StM, when Viola confessed her love to Duke, the made it blatantly clear that it was “weird” and “unusual”; the editing and music cuts. It was done for comedic purposes, but in that moment, it just made me cringe. Even when the principal marched onto the field during the big match to expose Sebastian as “the woman he was all along,” he used a big megaphone and said to the whole crowd this man is in fact a girl. If it were to happen in the real world, and this character was a trans male, that would be traumatizing and so so insensitive. I couldn’t help thinking the way they handled the reveal in StM was poor and shitty.

But with JOotG (just one of the guys)? It’s done respectfully. Throughout the film, Buddy, Terry’s younger, sex-obsessed brother (I have thoughts on this character), often refers to Terry as a transvestite or sexually confused. They make references about her dating other women and jokes. It’s not treated like taboo, but just something people normally talk about, and as a questioning kid when I first watched the film, I really needed that. Although it was used for jokes, the fact that it wasn’t treated like a silent topic made me think more of it and discover who I was; it was media like this that made me accept myself.

Even with the reveal. Kevin, Terry’s boyfriend (or ex boyfriend by the end), stomps up to Terry after she’s wrestled with the school bully and was dumped into the waves at prom. Rick, who’s been Terry’s friend (and is the male lead) throughout her time at his high school, immediately questions who Kevin is and he responds with a harsh and sure “Terry’s boyfriend.” Of course, that doesn’t expose Terry as female, but makes Rick assume she’s a homosexual. But instead of calling her weird or replying negatively, he answers Kevin’s question calmly and says he’s just a friend. There is no prejudice, no disgust, Rick is shocked, but that’s expected. Furthermore, this reveal not only does not alienate homosexuality, it puts the center of focus on the main characters rather than have the whole audience/prom witness this exchange. Sure, the rest of the school is watching but the camera never pans over to them, and even then, Terry drags Rick away from the crowds to a secluded area to explain more.

Even once they’re secluded, Rick doesn’t yell at her or is homophobic. He just says “I understand, you’re gay.” As we know, Terry is not in fact gay and she reveals this to him in a similar fashion as StM, at least it’s not flashing a whole crowd. But the thing that hits me, is the fact that it’s not used as a joke or for comedy. Throughout the film, they’ve mentioned homosexuality and being transgender, but it was used as a light-hearted joke (nothing insulting or derogatory). In this moment, it’s not a joke, and it’s the bare minimum for a emotional scene like this, but it always hits me.

Of course, Rick gets justifiably mad that he’s been deceived and he storms off. Terry’s flaw catches up to her here, as she kisses him in front of the prom guests, stubborn to make him realize how much she cares. ( I didn’t agree with this action to be frank, I cringed ). The crowd gasps and it’s the usual reaction to a homosexual kiss and Rick just pulls back, says “It’s alright everyone, he’s got tits,” and leaves with Deborah.

In true romantic comedy fashion, life moves on. Terry gets the job at the Sun-Tribune after writing her article about posing as a guy and everyone who was longing for love in the beginning has found it, except Terry. The ending, however, is Rick coming back for her after a couple (days? Weeks? Idk all I know is it’s summer by the time he comes back, how much space between prom and summer?) and they kiss, go on a date and all is good.

Now after writing this long ass post, I’ve come to realize the main reason I like this film. Sure, Terry is a good character (not morally sometimes, but she’s interesting to watch), the way women are presented also is good, but my main source of affection for this film (in comparison to StM) is the way they handle the switching of genders. I’m gender fluid, I don’t always like being a woman or a man, I switch almost daily and half the time can’t decide if I want to grow out my hair or cut it. Seeing Terry, originally a woman, manage to convince people she was a guy made me wish I could do it too. It made me realize, I don’t always like being a woman. I want to be a guy sometimes, and I want that to be accepted. It was media like this, like Ouran High School Host Club, like Bare: A Pop Opera, that made me understand my gender and sexuality. (Even media that didn’t have any relation to LGBTQ+ helped).

When I first heard of “She’s the Man”, I had hoped it would be like these pieces of media. And it wasn’t. It was an alright film, but made me feel disappointed and somewhat let down. And that’s why I just prefer Just One of the Guys. Maybe it wouldn’t float in today’s political climate, maybe I’m wrong for seeing these points as reasons it’s one of my favorites, but its still better than StM and is one of my favourite films.

[originalwinnercheesecake]

Chain of Iron theories: the adopted baby

Here is another hot discussion topic in the fandom. CC has hinted that their will be a special baby, and that they will need to be adopted. So Questions, who is giving a baby up and why? I am assuming that this is a Shadowhunter baby. I cannot see either Hypatia Vex or Kellington who party, operate a secret saloon, and take pleasure in seducing interesting artistic individuals deciding to devote themselves to parenthood. Woosley Scott is set to show up, but their is no way he wants to adopt. Every other downworlder has appeared in the future and never made reference to having raised a baby. So which shadowhunters in this series of so many parents, children, and would be couples are looking to adopt? We know that shadowhunters adoption program isn’t perfect; Ariadne being adopted by an elderly white couple who know nothing about Indian culture and Tatiana somehow being allowed to adopt Grace despite the fact that she is aggressive, clearly insane, and famously unable to care for the one child she gave birth to. But I want to hold on to hope that whoever this little baby is their story will end happily with being given a nice home and family. My Theories

Anna and Ariadne  adopt Eugenia’s baby. (retracted)

  This was my original theory. In COG2 we learnt that Eugenia temporarily left home because of some scandal no one really wants to talk about. It apparently involved her and some guy being caught in a “compromising position” after which said guy could have saved things by asking to marry her but did not? ??? This led many people to believe she and this guy had been immanent and that she might now be pregnant., but unable to raise the baby on her own. So she would give it up for adoption. Eugenia’s older sister Barbara had an understanding with a very nice gentleman named Oliver and kept trying to get Oliver to purpose. I wondered if maybe a reason Barbara was in such a rush to marry is she was hoping for her and Oliver to adopt Eugenia’s baby and pass them off as theirs. Now that both Barbara and Oliver are sadly deceased Eugenia would need to look into finding new  parents to take he unborn child. Well spoilers relating to Eugenia state that despite having different interests and hobbies, she and Anna get along well. She also is set to become friends with Ariadne. Ariadne who really wanted to be a mom. So I thought that if Eugenia was pregnant and looking to give her child up for adoption then maybe she would ask Anna and Ariadne to adopt her baby. That had the potential to be sweet.

  But we have gotten more information now, and surprise surprise, people jumped the gun to quick on what happened with Eugenia. While we still do not know what the scandal was, it is hinted to have been way less extreme/serious than premarital intimacy, and she is very unlikely to be pregnant. I am now hoping that her ex got into a fight with some other guy, she stepped in to hit the other guy with a parasol, and her ex got embarrassed about having to be saved by her and broke up with her. Something that shows the guy was a real loser.

Elias puts Baby Carstairs up for adoption

  In COG2 we got a huge surprise that Sona was pregnant with her third child, unexpected as the family tree only lists her and Elias as having two children. Well actually actually the Carstairs family line is tree has parts of it that “Were lost to time”. So something clearly happened. Jem was clearly hiding something.

   This pregnancy was clearly unplanned and does present some worry’s. For starters Sona is well past the age where it easier/safest for women to give have children. She was already starting to have a difficult time with it during COG2 when she finally confessed to Cordelia that she was about 3 months along. This means that she will be about 7 months along (almost ready to give birth) when we pick up again in COI. Well in the early chapter read Alastair said that his mother has been put on Bed rest with her husband staying by her side and silent brothers monitoring her. This does not sound good. Several people have theorized that even with the brothers help, she will not make it through childbirth. Now lets talk about the babies father Elias Carstairs. Elias Carstairs is even older than his wife. He spent his youth traveling the world (I read a tweet that said he has even gone between dimensions before) leading special expeditions and hunting rare and powerful demons. This sounds grand, but it was a grueling life that left him physically and emotionally scared. Tragically the Clave does not recognize mental health as a need, so they do not provide any kind of therapy or treatment for those who become traumatized. Like many poor soldiers throughout American history Elias was there for the Clave when they needed his help but it that help was not reciprocated at the end. The only comfort he found was at the bottom of the bottle. It took Elias until he was already in his 40′s to start a family, and he has struggled with being able to take care of himself enough to act as a father to the two children he and Sona have already raised. Elias is 63. He is sad and tired, and struggling to keep a handle on his sobriety. This child was unplanned. I have read tweets that show he is at least trying to support Sona, but CC reveals he is questioning if or if not he can really do this a third time. If Sona dies there is no way Elias can raise this child himself. I won’t fault him if he makes that choice, it might be the most loving thing he can do.

   Who would adopt the little guy. Well the most common theory is that Alastair and Thomas would become his new dads. Now the family tree does suggest that both Alastair and Thomas are dads in the future. It also doesn’t list the names of either of their spouses (I am guessing neither had wives) so their is nothing to suggest that they do not live together raising a group of adopted children. Given the way the Cave feels about homosexual parents that could also be why Jem “lost” the records. I will not deny Thomstair becoming adopted parents is plausible, but I am not completely sure that baby Carstaris is who they will adopt. Babies are hard, they are a lot of work, and I am not convinced either Alastair or Thomas will be up to it. Look at Alastair. He is not exactly in a good place at the start of COI, and whenever fans ask CC if Alastair will make any friends she always reply that he won’t until he learns how to speak nicely to people and to be there for them when they need him. Honestly that is a thing he struggles with. He obviously loves Cordelia, but he totally pulled an  Queen Elsa on her where he shut the door and shut her out for roughly 7 years of their lives, leaving her as alone as Anna was. He claims to have loved Charles but the pair spend most of COG arguing because Alastair wants Charles to spend all his time with him and Charles is struggling to balance his promotion, his public reputation, and Alastair (Important I am not saying it was wrong for Alastair to be upset about Charles engagements or to break up with him. I am just saying it seems like Charles did try to see Alastair as much as he could, and Alastair trying to pin all his emotional needs on one person, who already had so much going on, was unfair). On Thomas side well lets just say he has a lot of mixed up and complicated feeling of his own he needs to work out before he will be able to be in a healthy relationship let alone raise a child.

  If Thomstair aren’t able to take care of Baby Carstairs I bet I know a long time married, long time Carstairs loving couple, who would be happy to take the little guy in and have enough resources, experience, and love to give him a great life. Hey in the future Tessa says she has kept watch over three families: the Herondales, the Carstairs, and the Blackthorns. The Herondales and the Blackthorns are her and Will’s grandchildren. If she were watching the Carstairs because they were once her friends wouldn’t she also watch out for the Fairchilds and Lightwoods?

Blackthorn Babies with Mundane and Shadowhunter mommies and daddies

  (Okay this is one will involve some hopping around and several references to the family tree, so stay with me people, stay with me.) We aleady know Jem made some changes to this line. Lucie is not 12, she is 16. Tatiana is probably not going to live another 15 years. Also the tree said that Jesse dies 59, yet he actually died at 17. But future wife Lucie wants to resurrect him... which is highly illegal and should she be successful she will probably face terrible repercussions. Jesse also might not be able to live as a shadowhunter after being brought back. So even if we don’t want it, for the sake of this theory lets assume that upon Jesse’s resurrection both he and Lucie are banished and become a mundane pianist and writer. Let’s assume they also get married and have children. In order for the TDA Blackthorns to be shadowhunters at least one of Jucie’s kids would have to become a shadowhunter and move to the shadow world. I feel like Luce and Jesse would be willing to let their kids go in that case. That was all Jesse wanted growing up and Lucie is Will’s daughter. The children would just need someone they could stay with.

  Now lets hop to the Lightwood family line. According to the tree Christopher and Grace get married (Grace is also listed as a Cartwright so was her adoption overturned and she rejoined her bio family?) and continue the Lightwood line down to TMI. Grace and Christopher are set up to bond  (over science) and many fans are willing to believe that they are an endgame ship. But fans are also doubting that they are the ancestors of the TMI lightwoods.  For one thing Christopher is heavily coded to be asexual; and Grace herself seems to have a very.... twisted and warped view of physical acts. So now lets say Grace is somehow saved from punishment over Jesse’s resurrection or because of her past trauma is given a lighter sentence. Lets say Gracetopher really do get married. if they got married they probably will apt out of having children; at least biological children.

   Christopher has a younger brother , Alexander Lightwood, who seems like a much more likely candidate to continue his family line. Alex has been noted to have those dark blue eyes that while once a Herondale trait later become a Lightwood trait. He shares a first name one of TMI’s most prominent characters, and that is just about the only way baby Alex could have relevance to the story given that he is way to young to help out in the war. If Alexander Lightwood the first is one who carried on the Lightwood line why are his descendants listed under his brother and sister in laws names?

   Well way back before the CC launched TLH I remember her posting a tweet that said Grace could become an ancestor of either the Herondale or the Blackthorn line. This upset a lot of people who thought that it meant that Grace may have a baby with either James or Jesse. (No, just NO!!!) But what if instead of Grace having a baby with Jesse, She and Christopher adopt one of Jesse and Lucie’s babies so that that baby could be raised as a shadowhunter? I could see Grace and Christopher doing do: they each love one of the respective parents and are set get to know the other. The only good thing about Tatiana adopting Grace was she got Jesse as a brother. Should she ever recover from having Tatiana as an adoptive mother I could see her becoming very critical of other adoptions and refusing to allow Jesse’s children to potentially end up like she did. I am in love with a head cannon I have that Christopher will become a science professor at the academy. If Lucie and Jesse have to leave the shadow world, and they have to give up their children then I want to imagine that child living in Malec’s future academy suit with Shadowhunter mommy and daddy Gracetopher while they secretly get gifts and send letters to their mundane mommy and daddy Juice. (It is the least CC can do for the pain reading about that potential exile would cause me.)

[hieranarchy]

The Women of Sherlock

4 years late to this masterpiece. Sherlock is just the most well-written TV show i have ever come across. Everything is perfectly finessed and crafted with so much care and flair, from script to dialogue to cinematography to plot pacing (I need to rest after one episode), I find no words for higher praise. Perhaps the pompous english delivery and tendency for grandoise flourishes might not be for everyone, but it is definitely my kind of show. 

I remember the part where Mycroft told John, "you are not traumatized by the war. You miss it." was precisely the point I got hooked. I felt that.

So in a bid to enshrine my love for the show (4 seasons of which i binged over two weeks), I shall make a post of the excellent portrayal of female characters (in the same unrelentingly verbose, highfalutin style), that no one asked for and with no new information provided.

MARY ELIZABETH WATSON

The poised and sensible wife and woman behind every good man (wait sorry, why still behind?) that can probably mother anything in her path. Except when she is in assassin-killer mode, she is able to detach her emotions to the point where she can coldly calculate exactly where to shoot you so you might just not die.John just couldn't pick ordinary, blessedly mundane partners, can he?Deadly sharp and sweet, with a deep, prescient wisdom and perception that can probably only be acquired from having killed many and needing to cover your arse about it, Mary is the typical femme fatale character. Unfortunately, she lived up to that name, when, out of fatally unconditional love and loyalty, she fatally took a bullet for the one time our dear Sherly failed, and died.

MRS HUDSON

your sweet, shrivelled grandma-next-door with a whole lot of sass, probably a saucier history of debauchery than you, plus guts of steel belied by her diminutive frame, because which other landlord will stand frequently finding various kinds of human remains stashed in the fridge for lab analysis and the occasional cracks of gunshots in her daintily-wallpapered walls when Sherlock expresses frustration at not being able to crack a case?yes, she isn't a simple woman.  the widow of a depraved and philandering cartel druglord whose death by decapitation was in part precipitated by none other than herself, and therefore inheriting his house and BMW, Mrs Hudson was able to quick-wittedly conceal Sherlock's critical possessions at gunpoint, while engendering sympathy from her captors as a hapless, frightened old lady.

"Mrs Hudson leave Baker Street? England will fall."-Sherlock

EURUS HOLMES

They say women are crazy, and you should be afraid of Eurus Holmes. Sherlock's impressive, Mycroft's prodigious, and Eurus is diabolic. Long-lost, locked up sister of the Holmes trinity, her cleverness proved too dangerous to contain even as a toddler.Her crime? Leading Sherlock's playmate to his death so Sherlock will play with her. Whoops.Might be the best rendition of a villain I've ever seen. One colder, crueller and cocksurer than any male fiend has ever displayed. Beating them at their own game, feeding their ego, making negotiations to get exactly what she wants.However it is revealed her distended intellectual abilities result in feelings of extreme isolation, as if she is 'trapped in a flying plane in which everyone's asleep.' At the end of the day, for all her acerbic appraisals on people and the world, Eurus remains mentally as a little girl pining for her brother to play with her. A light illuminating too brightly that extinguishes just as quickly. Nevertheless, an intriguing freak of nature indeed.

Amazing the number of times a man doesn’t really look at your face. Oh, you can hide behind a sexy smile, or a walking cane ... or just be a therapist, talking about yourself all the time.

IRENE ADLER

What does it mean when a female, self-professed homosexual professional dominatrix and a male, most-likely asexual high-functioning sociopathic detective seem to have an undeniable electrifying attraction to each other? Both recognise the inner freak of a genius in each other that is now, two-of-a-kind.We are shown a woman who relishes and maintains power in every respect, from the bedroom to her personal wealth and even securing underworld invincibility, who, in her own words: 'makes her way in the world'.

 She has no qualms using the power of female sexuality to surprise, subdue and siphon what she seeks, but towards the end we see her falter and thwarted by yet another typically female inclination of emotions and sentiment. (She sardonically or rather affectionately, if her multiple texts to Sherlock in an avant garde display of female-initiated wooing is any indicator) sets the passcode to her phone as I AM SHER-LOCKED)  

Yet she is literally saved by this lapse in affection, from Iranian terrorists, when it moved our utterly self-possessed and honestly also self-obsessed secret softie Sherlock, who reciprocated coolly with rare cliche of a hero-saves-the-damsel-in-distress moment, thus showing us love can be both a formidable weakness and strength.

MOLLY HOOPER

Finally, a character we can relate to. Depicted as an unassuming, babbling and bumbling side character, but  also possesses the ultimate superpower of being able to slap Sherlock in the face without facing resistance or retaliation. Because if she does so, then he deserves it.

JOHN WATSON

Sorry not a woman, I emasculated him. Just balancing out the status quo. He is almost like Sherlock's unappreciated wife in the shadows / and full-time child handler (and I mean this in terms of relationship dynamic, nothing sexual, go away shippers and fic writers) A complete danger-addict and badass packaged in fun-sized, cute, wrinkly dad material. Aw.

https://moonlitthoughts.medium.com/the-women-of-sherlock-3c3437c6f93e

[unnaturalequilibrium]

I keep thinking about Dani Clayton and mirrors, because I like symbolism and good storytelling. Also because this shit triggered those traumatic fear flashbacks that have been dormant since a much younger version of myself scared myself shitless by watching Candyman. So I'm coping, okay.

I adored the concept of mirrors triggering episodes of almost psychotic self-denial in Bly Manor. There are layers of extremely relatable dread in that. The idea of looking into the mirror and not being able to stand what or who is looking back at you. How looking can also make the lies fade away and then you’re left with something that makes the picture of Dorian Gray come across as a nice study in frolicking kittens. And how quickly it can warp out of control. I think it's sort of human in a way. Maybe not entirely indicative of a healthy psyche, but who among us fly through life healthy and stable at all times?

But to the point, I loved how this show was just one long study in this concept, Dani and the stark reality of her reflection. Her reflection haunts her, to begin with through the visage of Edmund, then later as Viola. And how it turns from her running from herself to her forgetting herself. The way a mirror is truth, but warped and dual, a Janus symbol of the self. It Is you, but what do you see and why do you see it?

From the first mirror scene (chronologically – the one with the seamstress) where she's forced to meet her own reflection as another woman triggers emotions hidden but poorly buried within her. Watching Dani watch them, watch herself, as you see how she covers up those flashes of recognition behind the facade of the bride to be. But it's there, the mirror throws the reality of those compliments back at her, those supposedly innocent touches are magnified under the scrutiny of that mirror. Their reflection cements that reality and you can bet your sweet ass that is where the true haunting of Dani Clayton began. I don't think Edmund was the first spectre to glare back at her. He became an ideal visage to condense all of her self-denial and guilt into, but I think that seamstress lived in Dani's reflection rent free for quite some time until she spilled her guts to Eddie who in turn spilled his on the pavement.

So with his death a new ghost, same Dani. The polar caps could melt, but the Atlantic still wouldn't be wide enough for her to be able to outrun her own reflection after that. But she tries and she fails. She's in a new place, a place where no one knows her, a place where she could be anyone. But her mental place is still very similar, she isn't ready to face her own reflection or her own self. Eddie hangs on, clings to her like an inevitability despite his death. She locks everything up, having learnt to bury and hide, but still the reflection is a cruel mistress who stalks her relentlessly. A cruel fucker who keeps whispering how honesty is another word for selfishness and hurt. I too would cover up every fucking mirror to not have to deal with that shit.

Then there is a new place, new people and she's locked up in a closet. Which serves important plot points, but it's such a fun little metaphor too. The self-denying homosexual is locked up in a closet with nothing but a mirror to keep her company. It's so unsubtle from a storytelling perspective, but I can't fault it because it's also...I like it okay. I like that this was her struggle. This was the homophobia she faced. That's it. No cruel words spoken, no glares, no violence. It doesn't make it any less real or painful, but this panic attack in the closet was the full extent of homophobia to exist on the show and it was all internalised. She got to keep her agency through all of it, she wasn't exposed to some external bullshit, she lived through her own fears. And then she steps out, tear tracks dried and her breath still shallow, but she marches right out and the very next day Jamie isn't just someone she feels like she's know for every, but someone she allows to comfort her, someone she lets her eyes linger on. Those things she buried, well turns out she still don't know how to do that properly. It's like she doesn't even know which side of the shovel that goes in the ground. So it bubbles up. The feelings. Every stolen glance, every interaction stacks and the reflection keeps a track record. Mirror Edmund dolls out his silent condemnation, a mute judge and becomes the visual representation of her self-denial, of the guilt and fear that comes with her reality. It keeps stacking until there's a point of “fuck this shit I need to get laid” and lets be honest nothing quite burns away any doubts or fears like landing in a bed with another woman and realising “yes please and thank you this is the promised land let me stay forever”. After that point self-denial is sort of pointless. She is a homosexual no longer having a panic attack. That scene of a well rested and adorably post-coitus tousled Dani giving herself a long thoughtful once-over in the mirror the morning after the Moon Flower scene is a gorgeous little exclamation point. Though it also serves as a comma for the next part of this mirror story. Because in that moment she no longer fears who she is, but it doesn't take long until she begins to fear who she might become.

Because the poor kid doesn't even have time to attend her first Pride before she's hit with the echoes of Viola. And instantly every reflection doesn't just mirror the present, but a future, a dark one. The anger, the possession, the hatred. It shows a path that seems inevitable. Initially she's got an anchor in the woman she loves, in her friends, they draw her back to reality, to the present. Like how she catches sight of Jamie through the glass of the flowershop, or how Owen's words draw her away from the reflection in his restaurant. But ultimately that path of possibility becomes a paved road of predictability and she walks it. The what-ifs consume her. All that darkness in the mirror obscures everything and becomes truth.

Mirrors are vicious and scary, that's what I'm taking with me. Maybe don't spend so much time looking into them. If you feel the need to catch your reflection maybe you're better off doing that in the way those you call friends and family look at you. They're super good for poignant storytelling though, so that's something.

I don't know. I just have a lot of feelings about this shit and I'm still scared of Tony Todd. So.

[kurowrites]

Snow - Chapter 10

Entire fic. AO3.

Uh... I would like to file a formal apology to everyone involved?

---

By the time Wei Ying arrives at Lan Zhan’s house, he’s a huge, anxious mess.

When Lan Zhan asked Wei Ying to join him and his brother for brunch on Saturday a few days ago, he agreed lightly, thinking that it would be fun. Well, he thought mostly about the delicious food Lan Zhan was certain to serve, and how interesting it would be to meet someone that has seen Lan Zhan grow up.

On Friday evening, he suddenly remembered that he is Lan Zhan’s sugar baby, and that Lan Zhan’s brother probably doesn’t know about that little detail. How is Lan Zhan even going to introduce him? He’s not going to want to tell his brother that… well. That. But then Lan Qiren seems to know about their relationship? He’s been going back and forth ever since, and has failed to arrive at any good conclusion.

Still, it’s far too late to cancel now. Lan Zhan wants him there, wants him to come and meet his brother, so it’s really not Wei Ying that needs to be worried about confessing the exact nature of their relationship to Lan Zhan’s family. And he’s charming, Wei Ying tells himself. He’s charming and he can simply pretend to be a good friend of Lan Zhan’s and there will be nothing strange about it at all. They will have a good time, and Wei Ying will go home, and it will be fine.

Steading himself, he knocks at the door of the old house, and almost immediately, Lan Zhan opens the door and smiles at Wei Ying.

The smile, more than anything, takes him aback. Lan Zhan never smiles at him like that.

Wei Ying has also never seen him wear steel blue.

He hesitates for what’s probably far too long, not sure what he’s supposed to say.

“Xiongzhang,” comes a disapproving voice behind Lan Zhan, and – that’s Lan Zhan’s voice.

Smiling Lan Zhan steps aside to make room for disapproving Lan Zhan, and yes, that’s the Lan Zhan that he knows.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying exclaims happily.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan replies, and Wei Ying basks a little in the warmth of Lan Zhan saying his name. He looks good today, too, wearing a light grey sweater with – yes, that’s a small white rabbit where usually the shirt pocket would sit.

Lan Zhan turns towards his copy, no doubt his elder brother, and frowns at him. “Do not play tricks on Wei Ying.”

Lan Zhan’s brother laughs and apologises. “Sorry, sorry. I was just curious. But Wei Ying realised immediately that I’m not you.”

Lan Zhan looks the tiniest bit mollified, and turns back to Wei Ying.

“Wei Ying, this is my older brother, Lan Huan.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Lan Huan,” Wei Ying says in his best attempt at good manners. Still, he can’t help but be curious. “You two do look remarkably alike. How many years are you apart?”

“Two,” Lan Huan answers easily. “It’s nice to meet you too, Wei Ying. I’ve heard a lot about you and have been looking forward to meeting you.”

Wei Ying laughs a little nervously. “You’ll have a terrible impression of me by now, then.”

If he knows about the fight between Lan Zhan and Lan Qiren, his impression must be worse than terrible, no doubt. He’s known Lan Zhan for what, three weeks? And has already caused strife in the family.

“Not at all,” Lan Zhan assures him as he smiles again. “Lan Zhan might not be much of a talker, but he says enough for me to understand the rest.”

Wei Ying tries not to blush. Was that a subtle hint that Lan Huan knows that Lan Zhan is Wei Ying’s sugar daddy? Somehow, the thought is extremely embarrassing. He doesn’t know about Lan Zhan, but Wei Ying would probably die if his sister found out he’s having kinky sex with a rich man for material favours.

He doesn’t have the same inhibition with Jiang Cheng though. Jiang Cheng can get traumatized for all he cares. He’d probably rub it under A-Cheng’s nose, if he got the chance.

“Lan Zhan is rather taciturn, no?” he says loudly, patting Lan Zhan’s arm. “He never says anything, but when I talk too much, he always goes–” he imitates Lan Zhan’s “You are being stupid” face that’s just slightly left of his “I am being stubborn and refuse to listen” face, “though I’m immune to it now. It was rather funny though when he pulled that face on a rude server in a restaurant two days ago. He was like–”

He breaks off suddenly, realising that he’s talking too much, and that Lan Huan might not appreciate being regaled with a story about a homophobic server that told them to take their gay asses out the door and leave. That comment had not gone down well with Lan Zhan. But Wei Ying isn’t sure about Lan Huan’s stance towards homosexuality. His uncle seems to be aware that Lan Zhan likes men, and Lan Zhan did say that Lan Huan is supportive, but…

“Ah, the server at the seafood restaurant?” Lan Huan asks, and there’s a look of something in his eyes. “That has been taken care of.”

Wei Ying looks at Lan Zhan, a little confused, but Lan Zhan doesn’t explain. He simply puts his hand on the small of Wei Ying’s back, pushes him through the door and inside the house, takes off his jacket and scarf, and then marches him to the dining table, Lan Huan following them.

The table is already laden with food, and Lan Zhan goes into the kitchen to pick up some bamboo baskets that have just finished steaming. It’s a veritable feast. Wei Ying has no idea how three people are supposed to eat all this food. They might need three days to finish it all.

“Please, have a seat,” Lan Huan tells him, and Wei Ying sits down opposite Lan Huan.

“Do you also cook, or is this all Lan Zhan’s doing?” he asks as he surveys the food.

Lan Zhan brings in several baskets of xiaolongbao, probably because Wei Ying went a little wild for them the last time they had Dim Sum, but the selection of foods on the table is eclectic this time. There are pancakes. And fresh strawberries. Everything smells and looks delicious, and Wei Ying has no idea where she should even start. He wants to stuff everything into his mouth at the same time.

“I do,” Lan Huan chuckles. “But I wouldn’t go as far as saying that I’m better or more enthusiastic than A-Zhan.”

“He’s a very good cook, isn’t he,” Wei Ying says proudly. “Honestly, I have no idea what I’ve been doing before I met him. I’m addicted to his cooking now. I will probably starve to death when he stops feeding me.”

“Wei Ying should also learn how to cook,” Lan Zhan says primly as he finishes arranging the bamboo baskets on the table and takes a seat next to Wei Ying.

Wei Ying laughs. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan. What words! You’ve eaten my congee. You know I shouldn’t be left anywhere near a spice rack at any cost.”

Lan Huan looks between the two of them and raises his eyebrows.

“Eat,” Lan Zhan prompts.

“Don’t try to change the topic, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying laughs again. Still, he’s quick to secure the best xiaolongbao for himself. After a moment of hesitation, he decides to also put one of them on Lan Zhan’s plate. Lan Zhan deserves good things, after all. “You kept your face carefully neutral, but don’t think I didn’t see you sweating.”

“It was not so bad,” Lan Zhan insists, taking the dumpling Wei YIng has given him, eating it carefully so the broth won’t drip all over the place.

“So you’re saying you’d eat it again?”

“Hn,” Lan Zhan agrees.

Wei Ying looks at Lan Huan with a mischievous smile. “Your brother is very courageous. He’s not afraid of a brush with death.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Lan Huan assures him. It’s very nice of him, but he’s never eaten Wei Ying’s cooking and doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Well, I like it,” Wei Ying says. “But my brother refuses to even touch a bowl of food I’ve made. And even my sister, who’s an angel otherwise, gets that look in her eyes when she finds me in the kitchen. She’s also an excellent cook, her pork rib and lotus soup is divine.”

Lan Zhan’s xiaolongbao are a hot contender for one of the top three spots in the ranking of Wei Ying’s favourite foods, though. They’re orgasmic. He can barely keep himself from moaning as he eats three of them in quick succession.

“These are also divine,” he says with conviction. “I’m positive you’ve laced them with some kind of drug. I’m definitely addicted to them. I wouldn’t be sad if these were the only food I was allowed to eat until the end of my life.”

“Indeed,” Lan Huan agrees with a smile at Lan Zhan. “They are very good.”

“Hn,” Lan Zhan says, as if such an amazing achievement is somehow normal and not at all something to be proud of.

“Don’t dismiss my compliments like that, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying exclaims, poking Lan Zhan in his cheek. Lan Zhan levels a flat look at him. “You should be a little proud of your skills!”

“Lan Zhan has always been very humble,” Lan Huan agrees. “Despite his many achievements.”

“I know!” Wei Ying enthusiastically agrees. “I don’t understand how he’s always so… Lan Zhan. If I were him, I’d be the biggest brat ever.”

“He wouldn’t be A-Zhan then, would be?” Lan Huan asks.

“No,” Wei Ying agrees, smiling at Lan Zhan. “No, he wouldn’t.”

Lan Zhan seems to be rather uncomfortable with the fact that all the attention of the table is currently focused on him, and ignores both of them in favour of elegantly picking out his food and eating it. But Wei Ying is happy. Lan Zhan’s brother evidently loves Lan Zhan very much, and Wei Ying couldn’t agree more. There isn’t a single unlovable quality about Lan Zhan. It’s good to see that he and Lan Huan are on the same page here.

They eat in silence for a short while, but before long, Lan Huan speaks up again.

“So, tell me a little bit about yourself, Wei Ying?” he asks. “You’re not from here, am I right?”

There it is, Wei Ying’s least favourite topic. Lan Zhan has never asked him about his past, which is really nice of him, but of course Lan Huan wants to know exactly what kind of critter his little brother is associating with.

“I grew up in Hubei Province,” he says succinctly. “Not too far away from Wuhan. Managed to get a nice full scholarship for my studies and came here.”

“You were not born in Hubei?” Lan Huan asks, and it’s exactly the topic Wei Ying wanted to avoid.

“No,” he says distantly. “I was born in Beijing, but lived in many different places… before my real parents died. I only moved to Hubei when the Jiang family adopted me.”

“So you’ve also lived in Suzhou before?” Lan Huan asks conversationally, but Wei Ying isn’t insensible of the probing gaze that Lan Huan has trained on him.

“Xiongzhang,” Lan Zhan says sharply.

“Forgive me,” Lan Huan replies mildly. “I was simply curious.”

Wei Ying is sure that Lan Huan means no actual harm by his questioning, but it also provokes him. What right does anyone have to dig in his past? He’s lived through it, it’s the past, he doesn’t want to dig out the skeletons in his closet. Everyone and their dog loves reminding him that he’s not worth shit because his parents had the impudence to die and leave behind an uppity little brat with a mouth too big for his body.

“I’ve lived in Suzhou before, yes,” he says coldly. “And, as I’m sure you can find out if you dig through my documentation, you will also find that my parents died in Suzhou, that I was brought to an orphanage in Suzhou, that I fled said orphanage after a few weeks and lived on the streets of Suzhou for a while. Until I was adopted, to be exact. Is that enough information now, or do you have any other questions?”

Lan Huan, to his credit, remains entirely calm in the face of Wei Ying’s anger and incivility.

“Just one,” he says. “How come that a family in Hubei ended up adopting you when you were living on the streets of Suzhou, 800 kilometres away?”

“I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t care,” Wei Ying hisses. “Jiang Fengmian was an old friend of my parents and had been looking for me, apparently. How he found me, I don’t know. But I was desperate enough at the time to have gone home with anyone.”

Lan Zhan suddenly pushes back his chair, almost toppling it over. He stands up and strides out of the room without uttering a single word.

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying calls after him, surprised at the suddenness of his actions.

“A-Zhan!” Lan Huan exclaims at the same time. And then, a little more sharply, “Wangji!”

Something in Wei Ying freezes, cold as ice.

“Wangji?” he asks, his voice faint.

Lan Huan looks at Wei Ying, his expression a little surprised. “Yes, Lan Wangji. His art name. We use them when we perform. Please excuse me.”

Lan Huan gets up from the table as well, and vanishes out of the room.

Wei Ying sits there for a moment, frozen. Alone. The delicious food in front of him forgotten.

Wangji.

Lan Wangji.

There is a strange, buzzing sound echoing in his ears. He tries to stand up, tries to follow Lan Zhan to wherever he’s gone, but his legs won’t carry him. His knees buckle under his weight. He grasps for the edge of the table, but his fingers slide over the glossy wood, unable to latch on.

His last thought is that he’s going to fall face first onto the floor, and that it’s going to hurt.

  Wangji.

  “Wangji! Wangji, wait for me! Hey! Wangji!”

[rostii]

quarantine q&a, tagged by the lovely @wjnterbucky (thank u!!)

are you staying home from work/school?  yea!! ive been home for almost a month now, all my uni classes are online + you can only rly go out for essential reasons so im. firmly home.

if you’re staying home, who’s with you? my family!!

what movies have you watched recently? what shows?  I watched An American Werewolf in London last week which was! disappointing! and i made my parents watch chicken run w/ me bc i was obsessed w it as a kid but somehow they’d never seen it, i spent like the whole second half of the movie so close to tears :( i also watched Ready Or Not which was super enjoyable, I’d really recommend it. I don’t watch much tv but i HAVE been rewatching the Untamed and going ham abt it :^)

an event you were looking forward to that got cancelled?  my birthday!! i was excited to go visit my best friend/spend a few days in canberra, there were some talks at the Japan Foundation that got cancelled, and all of my classes that i was rly enjoying :( but this just means i’ll have a lot of exciting social things to do when we can all see each other again.

what music are you listening to?  the best question!!! WANNABE by ITZY, losing my mind by montaigne, uhhh this lovely album by joan shelley i stumbled onto, life of the party (and the rest of cape god) by allie x, silent shout by the knife, caramelldansen, and punching in a dream by the naked and famous.

what are you reading?  I’m reading a book called ‘threads of life’ by clare hunter which is basically an overview/history of embroidery and sewing, it’s really easy and interesting to read and I’ve already cried quite a bit at parts- its all grounded in historical events/textiles and specific works and theres so much emotion packed into every piece, like quilts made by women who are prisoners of war, fabric samples as a means of identifying the mothers of babies donated to hospitals, sewing as a way of recording traumatic events, commemorative flags, etc. I haven’t picked it up in a few days because the next section is going to be particularly upsetting but it’s been a really good read, something cute from the last chapter was the use of pom poms as a form of decorative protection for children. + I have ‘the Slaughterman’s Daughter’ by Yaniv Iczkovits (for when i can be bothered to pick it up) and also ‘Monsters in the Closet: Horror and Homosexuality’ which i’m still working my way through, slowly. (+ like 6 other dissertations that academia.edu keeps EMAILING me about that all sound so interesting and are all like 400 pages long)

what are you doing for self-care?  daily walks!!! my fave time to go walking is about 6/7pm when it’s just getting dark. I’ve also been cooking a bit (a few soups, a few sweet things) and doing my standard amount of handcraft, finishing off some baskets etcalso lots of dancing!! every thursday no lights no lycra have been livestreaming their dance sessions so you can tune into the playlist and dance around in the dark for half an hour in your own home, which i’ve been doing w/ my brother for the last 3 weeks. hot dub time machine did a live mix last week that we danced  to as well & alex dyson’s started doing live zumba classes which also look Super fun. so yeah lots of dancing!!

tagging: @sapphoisms, @gracetowns, @rumils, @swcnlake, @moonlud & @chestnuit 💗💗

[thekeenanblogger]

Chiang Mai – Thailand’s Culture Capital

When we first started planning our honeymoon, the first thing we agreed on was that we wanted to meet elephants. We’d both had fantasies of seeing an elephant up close — and were pretty sure we would both burst into tears. It didn’t take much research to learn that the best place to do it was in Chiang Mai, the largest city in northern Thailand. We built our itinerary around having an ethical elephant experience, but in doing so, discovered our love for this incredible city.

After a short flight from Phuket and a fifteen-minute cab ride, we arrived at the Anantara Chiang Mai Resort. The hotel, situated on the grounds of the former British consulate, is a stunning collision of architectural grandeur against the urban epicenter surrounding it. Upon checking in, we were greeted with butterfly pea juice, matching jasmine necklaces and a short neck-and-shoulder massage by their talented spa staff, a practice we pray will make its way over to America.

Our room was a huge suite, decorated in minimalist bamboo with a giant terrace overlooking the garden.

The first thing we did after dropping off our bags in the room was catch the afternoon high tea, a hat tip to their British origin. The tea and pastries were as delicious as they were beautiful, and it was the perfect way to decompress after our journey while still keeping a touch of elegance.

We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the grounds. Every detail of the hotel seemed to be chosen with precision -- from the lotus flowers floating in jars lining the riverwalk, to koi ponds filled with lily pads and meticulously manicured gardens.

While we could have easily spent our entire time inside the gates of the Anantara, its close proximity to the hub of nightlife in Chiang Mai made it especially appealing. The hotel is only steps from the famous Night Bazar, which stretches for blocks during the evening hours, seven nights a week. We picked up some Christmas presents, window-shopped and finally tasted the infamously smelly-but-delicious fruit, durien. For the record, I loved it. (Scott wasn’t such a huge fan.) For dinner, we walked to Ginger & Kafe, place I’d found online that specialized in Chiang Mai’s signature dish, khao soi, a spicy, rich stew that still has my mouth watering just thinking about it.

After checking out the nightlife in Bangkok and Phuket, we were curious what the gay scene would be like in Chiang Mai. Spoiler alert: we were not disappointed! Just a block from the Night Bazar, Charoenprathet Road houses a stretch of gay bars and cabarets. We stumbled into Ram Bar, a whimsically festooned bar at the end of the street just in time for their 10 PM nightly drag show. What followed was honestly one of the best evenings of drag either of these two homosexuals have ever seen. 

The incredible dancing and performance level of these queens was staggering and the special effects — which included haze, bubbles and, I kid you not, one of the performers lighting her own hands on fire — had us howling to the point that we both lost our voices. Plus, Scott got dragged onstage for an impromptu dance!

When researching places to meet elephants, we didn’t realize how much of a problem tourist operations are for these incredible animals. Thirty years ago, when Thailand outlawed the logging that had leveled more than half of its rainforests, thousands of elephants that had been used by the logging industry were out of work. Too traumatized — and too valuable — to return to the decimated forests, most of them were forced into the tourist trade. In zoos, circuses, and the illegal logging trade that still persisted, these elephants were torn from their herds, held in sub-standard conditions in crowded cities or tourist-heavy beach towns, and brutalized at the hands of humans. But thanks to the work of Elephant Nature Park, a rescue and rehabilitation center in northern Thailand, these incredible creatures are being given a new home. No rides, no abuse, no tricks to perform — just elephants living together in the forest, like they’re supposed to be.

Our day was spent with eight other people, getting to meet two elephants — both sisters, aged twenty and three years old. Through the course of the day we got to feed them, go on a trek with them through the jungle, bathe them in the river and feed them their daily vitamins. It was truly one of the greatest moments in either of our lives, getting to see these beautiful creatures up close and in a sprawling jungle environment free of cages or chains. The Elephant Nature Park philosophy is to let the elephants do whatever they please, never forcing them into an activity. Rather, these creatures are very social and always seemed to enjoy the human interaction, especially the parts that involved ripe bananas.

After taking the longest showers of our life (it’s impossible not to get muddy when playing with elephants), we checked out of the Anantara and headed over to the Dhara Dhevi Chiang Mai.

The Dhara Dhevi Chiang Mai is, without question, one of the most incredible hotels in the world. Built by hundreds of traditional craftsmen in the style of a Lanna village, the Dhara Dhevi Chiang Mai makes guests feel like they’ve taken a step through time, wandering the streets of an idyllic Northern Thai city.

The villas — all large, luxurious and with individual architectural flourishes and floor plans — are secluded and peaceful, perfect for a romantic getaway. Our villa alone had to be ten times the size of our New York City apartment, complete with private pool and two stories of ultimate luxury.

The grounds, which extend for more than sixty acres, are dotted with temples, ponds, multiple pools, and immaculate gardens.

Shortly after checking in, we attended a private cooking lesson with Chef Juno, one of the chefs at Le Grand Lanna, one of the many restaurants on site.

Chef Juno guided us through a four course lunch menu of traditional Thai favorites. He was incredibly knowledgable and the perfect instructor. The food: unforgettable. We already have plans to recreate some of the dishes back home.

The staff at the Dhara Dhevi Chiang Mai made us feel so welcome and appreciated, from giving us a guided tour of the grounds to booking the perfect dinner table, with a prime seat to watch a traditional Thai dance performance in between courses.

During our stay we kept checking joking that it honestly felt like we were living in a dream, which is exactly what the Dhara Dhevi strives for. The hotel is so large that at times it felt like we had the place to ourselves. We couldn’t recommend it more to couples looking for an ultra-luxury hotel with a romantic setting that transports you into another world.

By the end of our honeymoon, we admit, we were pretty exhausted. Our two weeks were packed with such complete overload of the senses — from the pristine beaches that went on for miles, to the thumping music of Bangkok’s nightlife, to the most flavorful food we had ever tasted. We knew it would be hard to adjust back to normal life. But we find that our trip lives on, whether it be a funny anecdote that pops into our mind, or finding sand at the bottom of our suitcase and remembering the warm waters of Phang Nga Bay. We went off in search of a paradise, to find something untraditional and exotic, and Thailand delivered all that and more. As for being gay travelers? It went beyond feeling accepted. There is something every gay person feels in a new space – the feeling that you’re being clocked. In Thailand, no one ever batted an eye or looked twice as we held hands across a dinner table. It’s just not a part of Thai culture to judge. Now that we’re back in the states, the only thing to do now is plan our return.

[outcast-incel]

1

First and foremost. This will be a reading blog. Pics, vids, memes etc will not be a priority for me. I may throw them in on occasion, but it won’t be often, if at all. I am not consistent, and I am not doing this as a major dedicated activity. I simply wanted to vent a bit, but have no one to vent with. Such is my life.

I guess I can start with a little about me. I’m me. I have tried on multiple occasions throughout my life to fit in with a stereotype or clique of some sort, but have never been successful in my attempts. The only thing that has remained consistent in my life is that pain is a constant companion. Luckily, I had the Army teach me how to embrace the suck and make it part of who I am.

I was raped as a kid, repeatedly, for more than a year. One of the neighbor’s uncles. I don’t know if it was a literal uncle, or someone who just said to call them uncle. Who knows. I was forced to play “the private game” with one of the neighbor boys for a very long time. I never told anyone about that until a year or so ago. I am now in my 30′s. It’s the reason that I am avidly against homosexuality in any form. I was physically and emotionally abused as well throughout my childhood until I got bigger than others and started fighting back. I had drug addict older siblings, and did not have my first friend until I was 10 years old. Needless to say, my developmental years were a bit traumatic.

I was constantly getting in trouble for lashing out (wonder why). It took me years to figure out that sometimes shit just happens, and you have to deal with it. I probably started to learn that at about the age of 17, but I am getting ahead here. I’ve been arrested on multiple occasions in my  youth, but never did any jail time. I struggled with substance abuse the majority of my life (but am now 3 years sober) and various other forms of addiction as well. This included in my younger years sleeping with as many women as often as possible. It has been nearly a decade since I have been in a relationship now.

When I was in junior high and high school I went out of my way to try to belong anywhere. I hung out with the drug crowd, the gang banger crowd, the jocks, the popular kids, the nerds, the artsy types, heck I even tried to fit in with the religious crowd. It never happened for me, still hasn’t. I did come close when I spent nearly a decade with the Juggalos. They accepted me more than anyone ever did. However, like everything else though, over time that crowd was perverted by new folks who didn’t understand what it meant. Instead of being a family of outcasts, it became a competition of who could be the most hardcore. The younger generation started testing people to see if they were “really down”. It got old fast.

I joined the military when I was 20. I had to wait 2 years from my last arrest. I served as a Communications Specialist in the Signal Corps with the 4th Infantry Division. I served for 4 years and left as soon as they repealed don’t ask don’t tell. Obama did a very thorough job of destroying centuries of military history, tradition, and culture. I have a deep hatred for that man because of what he did to the armed forces and American culture as a whole. In all honesty though (hard truth), I wouldn’t have been able to last as a career anyway. My body was already breaking down with the rigors of military service, and it wouldn’t have lasted much longer. I now suffer from permanent injuries sustained near the end of my service, and they are only getting more and more painful as time progresses. Again, embrace the suck.

My alcoholism got really bad after spending 12 months in Iraq. It got out of control when I separated from the service. I worked hospital security for a number of years, then in the mines as a 3rd party contractor, hospital security again and finally caught my stride. I had a come to Jesus moment which changed my life. I quit drinking, and started going to church. I started college, bought a house, and a truck. I still struggle with addiction, but it is now food. It sucks because I would like to be a husband and father, but frankly, I’m a bit too emotionally detached for that to ever happen. Marriage is for the young and hopeful. Not the bitter and broken. It’s okay though, I won’t be the first person to die alone, and I certainly won’t be the last. Who knows. Maybe God will see fit to fully heal me and let me lead a normal family life. I like to think it’s a possibility.

I want to point out that all things considered, I think I turned out pretty well for my past. True I live alone, and only talk to a couple of friends once a month or so. However, I am not a criminal or a predator, I am a devout Christian, I love to do community service, and I have a deep love for my God, my Country, my family (we got over our childhood bullshit), and my friends (the few that I have). I used to enjoy the outdoors, but can’t anymore because of my injuries sustained in the service. I am now working in the tech industry. Figured I might as well use my military experience to my benefit. I am going to school for as much. I am at a point where I simply exist. Those who really know me look to me as a source of inspiration knowing that if I can keep going with my past experiences haunting me, they can as well.

The only thing that I ever wanted in life was to find a woman to spend the rest of my life with. To be in a relationship that is honest and loyal. That doesn’t seem to be a reality anymore. I’ve been engaged 4 different times, but every single one of my fiances ended up cheating on me. That was mostly my fault for the type of woman I used to pursue in my younger years. I will continue to have a small hope that it may happen, but as I mentioned earlier, I don’t see it happening at this point. I weigh well over 300 lbs. I’m bald, blind (not literally), and struggle with PTSD. I am emotionally and socially withdrawn. The only time I ever leave the house is to go to work, go shopping, or to visit family every few months. Maybe that will change now that I am working days for the first time in nearly a decade, but who knows. I do plan to go out more and enjoy the outdoors as much as I can. I can still go fishing, and camping so long as it’s easy terrain. Not much ladies to find there though.

I am very easy going, very sarcastic, and extremely empathetic when it is deserved, even though I hide that bit about me. I will say that I am also very apathetic as well. I don’t feel sorry for people and their situations most of the time since they are usually self inflicted. I am overly blunt and honest when asked a question and I love to argue. Truth be told, it isn’t usually much of an argument though. I almost always win. I am traditional. I think the reason for this is I hate what this world has become so I tend to look back. If I were to choose a period to live in, it would be either during the revolutionary days, the wild west days, or the days of the civil war. It seems that was the last time that people cared about their freedom instead of turning to the government to provide for them. People looked inward for strength or up to God. This country was founded on rebellion. Now, people rebel because they want to be controlled. The kicker is, most folks don’t even realize it.

There ya go. There is my introductory blog. I have now popped my blogging cherry. That is a little glimpse in to what has made me me. I think that a lot of my posts will be rants for the most part. It may seem like self pity at times, but I assure you, I don’t think highly enough of myself to pity myself. I feel that I deserve all the pain that is sent my way, because obviously it is meant to be. I honestly believe that I serve as hope for others that at least they’re not me. This detachment has made me excellent in leadership roles because I try to serve those under me instead of trying to only further my position. I go out of my way to help people so they may not have to experience the pain that has become my friend over the years. No one should have to be put through that.

God bless.

[fuckyeahacfanfiction]

The Talk - Haytham and Connor

Haytham laid awake, staring at the ceiling. Ziio had drifted off into the in between state of wakefulness and sleep. He, on the other hand, couldn't find rest. "He never told me."

"Hm."

"I'm his father and he never told me he was dating!"

"Hm."

"I don't know what I did wrong, Ziio! I love him and I taught him everything he knows, yet my own son didn't have the decency to inform me that he was dating… anyone!" Haytham rolled onto his side to stare at his wife's back. "Did I do something wrong with raising him? Was I at the office too much? We use to have so much fun when he was younger and now he won't even speak to me!"

"Ratonhnhaké:ton has always been private, Haytham," Ziio mumbled into her pillow. "He's seventeen. At least he's not sneaking out to meet women like that Auditore boy or the Dorian boy."

Haytham paled upon hearing that. Connor had come home with a few stories of the nightly escapades of Ezio Auditore and his playboy conquests or the neighbourhood girls. At least the Dorian boy just goes to his girlfriend's house, Haytham thought. "I need to have a talk with him," Haytham said aloud.

"Haytham."

"It's high time I discuss important things in life with him. He's my son after all," Haytham said. And I won't traumatize him like my father did with me, Haytham assured himself privately.

He found Connor that Saturday on the roof of their restaurant/apartment. He stood there, watching Connor practice one of the traditional dances of the Mohawk tribe, Ziio's old boom box was tucked into a corner, blasting out the drumbeat for Connor to dance too. Impressed, Haytham watched his son carefully set his foot down, as if Connor was following some invisible pattern only he could see.

The music stopped. Haytham clapped causing Connor to turn and blush. The boy quickly shut the boom box off. "Dad, uh… what are—"

"Practicing for the powwow I see," Haytham said, clasping his hands behind his back. "You looked good. I'm sure your mother would be pleased."

"Ista is," Connor said. "So, uh… what brings you up here then?" Connor asked. Haytham puffed his cheeks out in a sigh, looking for a place to sit down but found now. Instead he sat on the ground.

"Come, sit next to me, Connor we need to talk." Haytham patted a spot next to him. Connor shrugged and sat down in the lotus position. They sat in silence, watching the evening descended upon Boston. Cars blared their horns, they could smell the cooking from the restaurant and the exhaust of vehicles. Beneath it all, the faint sound of song birds. "So, this Aveline…" Haytham trailed off. "Is she a nice person?"

"Yes. She graduated last year," Connor said.

"Oh, so she's older, I see."

"She's going to study at the community college here, then move down to Louisiana."

"I see."

"She volunteers at the same animal shelter I do."

"Is that how you two met?"

"Yes."

Haytham nodded, pushing about the tiny pebbles. He wasn't sure ow to broach the topic with his son. He wasn't even sure if Ziio talked to Connor about… sex. "So, Connor… uh… what are your intentions with… Aveline?"

"We're just friend," Connor said, sounding defensive. "We like to hang out and do stuff together from time to time."

"Right, right. Of course." Haytham chewed his lip, remembering the traumatic experience of listening to his father explain the ins and outs of sex. "So, Connor. Son." Haytham placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "I need to talk to you about something.

There was a brief moment of silence followed by Connor muttering, "Okay."

"You are seventeen, and to be perfectly honest, I should've talked to you about this years ago instead of waiting until you are… until you… until you found yourself a lady friend." Haytham swallowed. "This is sound advice that my father gave me when I was fourteen. And you need to know this if you want to have… intercourse with a woman and—"

"Raké:ni, Ista she already talked to me about this."

"It's important to remember this so you don't end up with broken bones or ruptured organs. Not that I would know as I have been nothing but faithful to your mother since the time I was ten. But still… this is an important talk, man to man, father to son. A Kenway man tradition."

"Daaaad…."

"Don't," Haytham said, looking Connor in the eyes, "don't ever be one of those assholes that honk their car horns at women in short skirts. As my father told me the only think you ever need 'honk' is a woman's breasts and only after, now this is the important part, you've obtain consent from the woman's who's breast you wish to honk."

"Oh dear God," Connor muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Now, you and your partner, and when I say partner, I don't mean just a woman. It can be a man too. I will support you fully if you are of the homosexual orientation or bisexual if you choose. Doesn't matter to me, so long as you are happy with whomever you choose."

"Father."

"But if you decide to part take in one of the Auditore boy's orgies, remember no more than eleven. According to my father you will be sore as hell the next day and it'll be extremely difficult to please everyone." Haytham took a deep breath. "Also, condoms. Always carry at least four condoms in your wallet if you ever need them."

"Dad, stop it," Connor said. Haytham looked at his son. Connor's cheeks were flushed. "Mom talked to me about this years ago. I know. I know."

"Oh." Haytham sighed. "I just thought… well, with you and Aveline."

Connor smiled. "I'm glad you're concerned, but honestly, we're just friends. I'll let you know if something important happens between us."

"I just want you to be careful, son," Haytham said. "We haven't talked in a while and I'm afraid that we've drifted apart."

"Summer starts next week. I'd love to go camping with you."

"Hmm… I'll see if I can't take some time off. I'm sure I have some unused vacation time."

"And I will tell you if my relationship with Aveline develops further," Connor said. "At least I didn't get anyone pregnant. Did you hear that Arno got François de la Serre's daughter pregnant?"

"Oh my."

[skytroops]

a’ight buddy here we go [full fucking pasta is here]

Okay, before we properly dive into this shitfest, I won’t be covering the stuff that can be dismissed because the show is a dang anime, so this includes why Ash never ages and why all Nurse Joys and Officer Jennys all look the same, nor will I go into coma talk because most of it just sounds like total horseshit.

Have you ever noticed that the pacing, tone, and story development of Pokémon changes after Ash is hit by lightning in the early episodes? How Ash and his world are relatively normal until after that incident?

Because you can totally get a complete understanding about how this fantasy world works within 10 minutes of a kid dicking around in the wilderness.

even though his journeys take him vast distances, he never usually travels by bike due to having developed a phobia of them.

uhhhh he sure um looks terrified riding that bike, dude. (episode 036, the bridge bike gang)

Moving on to the characters closer to him…Ash’s traveling partners are aspects of himself he can enjoy but cannot associate with himself.

Team Rocket are the qualities of himself that Ash deems “negative” but is coming to terms with.

Time for the actual worst part of the whole thing. :)))

Brock is Ash’s repressed sexuality. Ash fell into the coma a virgin and, as such, needed an outlet for his growing sexual frustrations. However, since he can never experience sex, Brock must never succeed.

Because 10 year old children can be sexually frustrated, I fucking guess. If Brock was a character added in at a later season, then I could see where this guy is trying to go, but Brock enters the show in Episode 5 and starts up his gag in Episode 7.

This means that it somehow took Ash 3-6 years in real world time to get up to that point in his journey in his dreams, but continue with the other 900+ episodes in a much shorter time. what the fuck, d00d

Further evidence of Brock being Ash’s sexuality is that he keeps returning the series after Ash meets a new female aspect of himself.

Misty is the first such aspect we encounter. Because she is the first and is merely an aspect of Ash are explanations as to why Misty plays such a prominent role in the show but is ultimately unattainable (since he never really knew her before the coma).

Since Misty is his initial love interest (if only subconsciously), he needed her to reach a certain level of womanhood. He felt that people could only have relationships after they’ve matured.

In practice, however, he finds he can’t cope with it, as he lacks real-world experience. He wants the normal, pushy, arrogant Misty he knew…thus, not letting her keep Togepi. We can see this arc in the constant berating of his sexuality, but her eventual mellowing until she had faded into the background.

Since Ash was quite attached to her, this was traumatizing. After this experience, anyone around him “threatening” to mature quickly ends up leaving only for another, more naive fill-in to enter his life.

Straight up just boils down all of the girls down to Ash’s straightness trying to kick him out of his coma so he can get himself fucking laid. Yeah. . ..we ain’t even on the worst, worst part, which is-

James is implied homosexuality (which does not necessarily make Ash homosexual) and gullibility,

Brock’s stay with Professor Ivy was an attempt by Ash’s mind to suppress his sexuality. 

You may notice that James got much more dialogue in this part of the series (after Brock leaves), as well as getting more touchy-feely with his Pokémon and exposing much of his backstory. Ash didn’t enjoy this much, which is why Brock returns, horrified, and refuses to speak about it.

Team Rocket cross dresses because Ash is exploring his gender, a different facet than what Brock represents (sexuality), and this was a method that allowed his gay/vain side to experiment freely.

> james is homosexuality > the TRio are considered Ash’s negative traits

I fucking hate this pasta, so fucking much. Why the fuck would Ash consider his possible gay feelings as negative? There’s no mention of him seeing homophobia or anything that would make him see that being gay is bad, so WHY?

And of course, we’re using the stereotypical James is gay trope because this author can’t think up some other thing James can be.

Why the fuck are they mentioning that James is getting “touchy-feely” with his Pokémon?? because that’s what gay people do?? feel up their pokémon??? what the fuck are they getting at here??

I’m totally fine with the idea of Ash experimenting with his gender and dropping it when he feels like it isn’t for him, but that fucking implication that gay people = vain and like to cross dress is getting on me fuckin’ tits.

I don’t get why the author is so fucking focused on Ash’s sexuality, but I legit think the author is highkey projecting their own sexuality problems. That, or they did it to be fucking edgy.

and of course ash being bi or ace is never brought up because he’s either straight or gay, there’s no in between and he must be sexually repressed because he’s a virgin at 10 years old

i’m done  fuck this. this whole thing is just convoluted and i can’t be arsed getting to the rest of this shit