#also slightly based on my own experience with gay friend groups | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lochnessies · 3 years

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ok here’s a dissection of a post an anon sent me the link to and bc i have the worst time management possible and i completely forgot i had it lol so sorry anon here you go ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

I am constantly thinking about how Edelgard just doesn’t seem designed to appeal to cishet men.

i hate to be the one to break this news to you op but just because a character doesn’t show skin like charlotte fire emblem doesn’t mean she isn’t designed to pander to men. she’s very much designed to pander to the (majority straight male) player base with her ‘uwu i only trust you professor omg did u see that rat? pls don’t look at my painting of you uwu’.

then there’s the whole edelgard c support in japanese where byleth makes reference to having come to her room for ‘yobi’ which is

there’s also the scene where byleth can make an unsolicited comment about edelgard’s breast size. which is… uhh… gross.

edelgard also has cipher cards that go from slightly fanserviceie to full on suggestive

and also her breast armor that my sister relentlessly mocked lol

and here’s a chart from the 3h subreddit about gender/sexually in regards to edelgard and edeleth. it’s extremely straight male. op might have just overlooked this since they probably don’t go on reddit and stay on tumblr (which unlike reddit is mostly female and has a high lgbt demographic).

Like the joke is that Bleagles is the Gay House, but everything about her feels deliberately non-hetero.

i don’t like where this is going…

She’s dressed in sharp outfits covering her upper body, with proportions that don’t seem exaggerated.

so women who cover up must be lgbt because straight women are naturally more revealing? oh y i k e s

Her poise and the way she effortlessly flourishes her axe exhibits an air of coolness. While titties out =/= character of no substance, Edelgard being dressed more modestly suggests that she wasn’t designed with male-centred fanservice in mind.

“titties don’t equal no substance but here’s my post on how she has more substance because she doesn’t show titties” ok

And she still looks absolutely stunning in her more modest attire (like seriously, I haven’t felt the need to return to cosplay in years but I want to do her academy look so bad).

yes she does. amazing design 10/10. i have a feeling this is the only part i’m going to agree with

Edelgard is intense. She does not mince her words and she is constantly evaluating you. Though she tries, she has a difficult time understanding her peers initially. Early on, she talks about how she would sacrifice herself and others in the name of some greater good. She is terrible at communicating with her peers. She has to be seen as infallible. Her heart has been hardened for years and she assumes she has to stay that way. She also assumes everyone mourns the same way she does - which is why she (kind of insensitively) insists you move on when Jeralt dies. Because to her, grief has to be channeled towards action, or else you’ll get lost in it. This attitude is demonstrated time and time again as she presses on. It can make her come off as cold and unfeeling - but look closer, and she’s anything but.

don’t really have anything to say at this part. it is pretty on the nose though i would slightly disagree with that last sentence a bit. i wouldn’t say she’s as i feeling as hubert is but all of her talks of the war boil down to how she feels and never her victims.

Her story is ultimately about her realizing that to achieve her goals, she needs to let people in and allow herself to want things like cakes and tea parties and lazy days in peace.

????? what ????? her goals include imperialism, ethnic and religious targeting. her story is about having a set of beliefs and mowing down anybody who stands in her way. that has nothing to do with tea, friends, and lazy days. also am i supposed to be sad that she has to get up everyday and work? i do that and i didn’t start a war and only throw a pity party for myself

The game leaves the player guessing as to how involved the Flame Emperor was in each Part I event, makes you feel hurt by her betrayal, and leaves you with a choice: do you follow the orders of the woman who tried to make you a god without your consent, or a young girl with questionable morals about to throw the world into upheaval?

this isn’t an ideal situation but i think i’m going to stick with the woman who tried to make me a god since i’m not selfish and i know it’s not only my desires and life at stake here. plus the green hair slaps ngl

Choosing her of your own volition (not for completionist reasons) requires the basic ability to sympathize with a woman’s pain. It also requires the player to read beyond her unwavering will and dubious methods to get a sense of how deep that pain goes and how the theme of humanity relates to her differently in each route.

i’m not going to touch this since @nilsh13 made a post on it that i’ll link here. i agree with everything he said so to repeat it would be redundant.

The player must be able to see a young woman’s desperate resolve to change the world so it stops exploiting people and ruining lives. They must be able to accept the fact that women can make the same morally wrong and ambivalent decisions that complicated male characters get to make all the time and still be the one to root for.

literally the same reason i love rhea lol her goddess experiments are dubious at best but her reasons are the same you mentioned. i would say that i like this quality in edelgard too if her ending, while bloody, actually ended in a good outcome for fodlan.

This is not unique to LGBT+ people, but this population is likely to understand why Edelgard feels so strongly about why she has to change the system.

i understand wanting to change a system, i really do. like edelgard, i’m an opinionated bisexual woman (who’s also physically disabled) so yeah i get it. and change can be good but it can also be terrible. even if the church was the boogeyman edelgard treats it as she still replaces it with her own shit regime. so it’s the same circus just with a new conductor.

I don’t think “Edelgard gets undue criticism because she’s a woman” captures the full picture. An important aspect of her treatment by certain parts of the fandom is that she’s a radical woman.

or maybe she does some pretty fucked up shit and it goes unacknowledged in her own route. and yeah she’s radical but in all the worst ways.

Her hatred of the Church and the Crest system resonates way harder with people who have been hurt by institutions that are deeply engrained in our society.

and what about people who have been hurt by systems where their ‘merit’ didn’t measure up and they were left behind? what about people from nations that experienced imperialism?

Siding with her means siding against the Church - which, while different from real world religious institutions, still invokes language about “sin” and “punishment.

yeah the ‘sins’ and ‘punishments’ are used in relation to attempted murders which i think everybody can agree is a bad thing that needs to be condemned.

Choosing Edelgard will likely hit different if homophobic and transphobic Christians used that rhetoric against you.

it has literally nothing to do with ‘sins’ and ‘punishments’ in regards to being gay or trans. that’s you projecting. especially since the church has 2 canon gay characters and two coded ones.

like i can understand why having a church condemn you can be uncomfortable but i’m begging you to please look at the context of what’s happening.

I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that the reason F/F Edeleth is the more popular iteration of that ship because most people who would choose to S-support Edelgard are LGBT+ themselves. This is not a revelation. To anyone in the community, it’s fairly obvious.

i was talking to nilish and he said

so yeah… while there is definitely sapphic femleth shippers out there, there’s still a whole lot of weird fetishizing going on from straight men about edelgard.

Crimson Flower was my first route. I went into the game knowing absolutely nothing. I played it during the last week of 2020 and hoo boy was it cathartic.

i can tell. this wasn’t supposed to be a dig but it came out that way and i’m not taking it out.

I felt like I was living out a gay revolution power fantasy, where I could truly change systems of oppression while fighting alongside a group of troubled students I’d shaped the lives of.

so a gay revolution power fantasy (cringe) goes hand in hand with imperialism and installing a dictatorship? also the war had nothing to do with sexuality.

Through your unwavering support, Edelgard learns that she needs to be human, that she must listen to her friends, and that she’s allowed to enjoy the world she’s creating.

edelgard gets to learn how to be human all while hunting those who don’t. and she doesn’t listen fo her friends. she doesn’t even trust them. she’s willing to talk to byleth but keep the people who’s been by her side for five years in the dark about everything. and yeah she gets to enjoy her new words since she’s on top. hate to be a commoner under her rule after she burned down my village in her war.

I love this character so much.

clearly. and i honestly don’t care if somebody likes her. i do as well even if my sometimes scathing words can make it seem otherwise.

It has been six months since I first played and I am still analyzing her,

me too. please help me escape i’m losing my mind

because there’s so much depth. Yet so many people fail to see that depth and dismiss her as evil,

i mean, she does some fucked up shit that goes beyond any of the less than desirable actions of the other main characters and does an extremely poor job in trying to make herself seem innocent. i personally don’t think she’s pure evil but i completely understand where the people who say she is are coming from.

because they never had the will to understand complicated women in the first place.

that’s big talk from somebody who implies that a gay pope is comparable to homophobic and transphobic irl religions and that leads an oppressive regime all because she uses the vague terms of sin and punishments that you have to gay power fantasy your way out of

#i finished this at 1am so sorry if i’m incoherent #mine

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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years

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Elizbeth Debicki - Reunion Revenge

A/N - I love Elizabeth with everything I am, I'm sure I've said this before. I don't know why there aren't more fics about her. As always, I do not know Elizabeth, nor do I claim to: this is a work of fiction and wholly my own. I mean no disrespect to any of the careers mentioned at some point in this, just bear with. This is a set at a high school reunion, but I went to a private secondary school in England, so my experience is obviously not everyone else's. Reader has a twin brother, have fun with that. I also based this on a Tumblr post I saw, and thought that would be a swell concept to work into a Liz piece of writing: ‘never understood the whole showing up at your high school reunion revenge fantasy cause, like, really? high school?? I don’t want anyone from that time in my life to have any idea where I am or what I’m doing. do not perceive me I am dead to you and you are dead to me.' 8k.

Warnings - a little angsty, mentions of bullying, smoking, mentions of homophobia and slurs, wlw explicit smut, fingering, sex toys (strap-on), bathroom wall sex in a semi-public place, the whole shebang (literally). 18+

Summary - At first, when your brother roped you into attending your high school reunion with your wife, you hated the idea. Now, all eyes are on you, all the focus on your career, and maybe this is the revenge you always needed, of course aided by Liz's quick thinking and hidden surprises.

AT THIS CURRENT POINT IN TIME, you would more than happily murder your brother for roping you into this. And for convincing Liz to come along, which is somehow worse than your own enforced attendance, as though your presence will make any difference to the people who made the seven ‘best’ years of your life a pure living hell.

Your brother did have your back through it all, and considering that he was supposed to be the best one to succeed, he needs you there for some moral support after his career took an unfortunate nosedive that everyone is undoubtedly going to be gawking over.

You never understood the whole ‘showing up at your secondary school reunion revenge fantasy,’ but that’s mostly just because they don’t deserve to know who you are anymore. They broke you continually, and you’re past it now: the only thing that could take you back to that mindset is being back in that great hall with the gossiping busybodies. It’s not your fault that you were a closeted gay for so many years. Well, that’s another cause of concern. Notorious homophobes, and you’re bringing your wife.

“Come on, honey, we have to go inside.” Liz tells you, her long fingers curling around yours affectionately.

She has a point. You’ve been in the car park for ten minutes now, your knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. Her continual lavishes of kisses to your neck seem to be the only redeeming factor of your procrastination.

“Hmm, kiss me first.” you say.

She doesn’t disappoint, curling your hair behind your ear—wearing special diamond earrings she got you on your second anniversary—and catches your chin tenderly between her polished forefinger and thumb, tilting your face up to meet hers, her lips slanting over yours, melding together perfectly.

She’s the only good thing about this situation, about any situation: the only reason your brother was able to bribe you to come. Your main qualm about today is that you don’t want anyone from that period of your life to have any idea where you are or what you’re doing. You’ve been dead to them for years, and they to you. You don’t want them to perceive you whatsoever. But maybe, with Elizabeth on your arm and a brilliant career under your belt—everything you ever wanted—you can reap revenge. No one is in touch with you, so your arrival will be such a surprise, not that you exactly care about that, having blocked out and repressed a whole lot of that time period. You wouldn’t be able to even do this without Elizabeth, though.

“Liz,” you moan when she nibbles on your lower lip in that signature way she does. “We can stay here, we don’t have to go in.”

You shift your hand over the centre console to rub over her clothed thigh, your grip more than a little suggestive, prying further up…

“No baby,” she coos, “later, I promise. We’ll be late.”

You grumble, but only momentarily. She has a point, and a thing about being on time to everything. So you load out of the car, Liz coming around to the drivers side where she offers you her hand. She’s more chivalrous than any guy you ever pretended to date, an absolute gem of a person. You don’t even get jittery on the short walk inside, not with her thumb caressing your hand, your legs brushing together.

You can’t say you’re surprised when, at first, no one even turns to look at you, though relief floods your system, Liz bending down to kiss your forehead in a conciliatory manner.

“Oh my God, y/n, I’ve been here twenty minutes! Why didn’t you pick up?”

“I was busy,” you say to your overzealous brother who is suddenly hounding you, attaching to your side.

He bristles, visibly shaking off his discomfort, before he’s linking his arm through yours and is tugging you along, out from beneath the wooden balcony, tugging you away from the shadows.

The hall is the exact same as it was both when you came and left the school, oak panelling everywhere, great glass windows stretching to the ceiling with sills too high for anyone to climb onto, a stained glass shrine above the stage. Put-me-up tables are littered around, sheathed with white cloths and ribbons with your school emblem on them, decorated with drink dispensers, mugs, wine glasses and cheap biscuits. The whole… scene brings back that awful sense of dread you got when forced to sit here, in tacky red woollen chairs, frayed and bobbled, that itched your legs, every Monday and Friday for assembly. It’s a beautiful room, truly, with a reinforced floor beneath the original boards, slightly splintering beneath your low heels, and you know every nook and cranny, every escape route, but the bad memories tarnish the space.

Liz, darling as she is, senses your discomfort, and creates small talk with your brother as you’re steered between groups of people you scarcely recognise until you reach the apex of the room, where his old friends stand, hunched over in ill-fitting suits, brooding over their brandy, no doubt complaining about their dead end jobs and lack of girlfriends.

“Hey buddy…” one of them says, trailing off once he hears a woman's voice, his eyes darting up—first to Elizabeth, then down to you. “Your sister and your girlfriend? Dude, she’s hot.”

“Isn’t she just?” Liz teases, a malicious smirk creeping onto her lips.

You haven’t even noticed, but some subconscious part of you has tucked your joined hands behind you, covered by Liz’s long, flowing dress.

“How you doing, wait, I know, don’t tell me…”

“y/n.” you snap. “Fine, thanks.”

“Well that’s good, good, isn’t it? I was just gonna call you mini y/l/n—”

“Don’t, that isn’t my name anymore.”

His eyes dart down to your left hand not held by Elizabeth’s slender fingers, instantly noting the glistening silver princess-cut ring nestled above a platinum wedding band.

“Married? Nice. No wonder the guy didn’t come,” another one chimes. You’re not entirely sure what he means, though it’s undoubtedly a dig at the fact Elizabeth is far hotter than you are.

Your brother is slowly growing angrier and angrier, the cords of thick muscle in his shoulders tensing, his nostrils flaring, his thinned eyes conversing with Elizabeth’s blues over the top of your ducked head.

“Yes, well,” you play along, and desperately look to your brother to continue the conversation.

“What are you all doing for work now?”

Everyone gives a boring answer: salesman, accountant, finishing up law school, working in an office, with one trainee chef in the mix. These men have all just done what the school or their parents expected and wanted them to do, no one has any ambition. No wonder you were always the odd one out.

“What about you?” the chef asks your brother.

“Oh, I’m on a sabbatical at the moment,” he replies sheepishly, eyes suddenly training on the floor before turning quickly, fixing on you. “My sister’s done really well for herself.”

Their surprise is palpable, seeping off them, dripping onto the floor via the loose threads of their cheap blazers.

“Yeah, I’m a translator for political and legal proceedings, you know, with cabinet ministers from all over the world, those who speak the languages I do, at least.” you answer pridefully. Your talents always were overlooked when you were at school, apart from by one special teacher, whom you haven’t actually seen yet.

“She’s marvellous, really,” Liz says, and you can’t help but feel a hint of guilt from neglecting her for so long, so you squeeze her hand a little tighter, and rub your thumb over her wedding ring. “I’m gonna get us some drinks, babe. What do you want?”

“Red wine would be lovely. Unless you want me to drive home?”

She pecks your lips, “Of course not, enjoy yourself. You want anything, mate?” she turns to your brother.

“I’m good, thanks.” He mock-salutes.

“Don’t be long,” you warn her, swinging your hands out from their cover with a sudden flush of courage, and detaching them.

She looks down at you curiously, but her smile quirks into a smirk the second you pinch her hip and lean up on your tiptoes, capturing her pretty pink lips with yours, swallowing the small surprised gasp that escapes her. You can feel eyes on you all over the room, the situation genuinely feeling as though everyone besides your brother is staring upon you with disgust as her lithe arms wrap around your body, her one hand straying lower than you were prepared for, arching into her chest as she nibbles your lip again, your one hand cupping her flushing cheek.

A moment later, she’s releasing her hold and strutting away, all eyes then glued to the sensual sway of her hips, her long legs carrying her across the room faster than they thought possible. Then again, being 6-foot-3 as a beautiful woman is quite the surprise to people, they all expect her to be garish, uncoordinated, and though she’s clumsy at times, she’s certainly better at general levels of human functionality than you are.

“Dude, stop staring at my wife’s ass.” you hiss to the first man. If only they were worth your bother or time, you might have remembered their dreary names.

He splutters for a moment, bringing a ring-less left hand up to loosen his lilac tie. “Wife? What the fuck? How are you married to a woman before we are!”

What a mystery.

“You gay or something?” the trainee lawyer chimes in again.

“You got a problem with that?” your brother accuses, puffing up his chest pompously.

“Well, no… just surprised.”

“Astonished.” another pipes up.

“Isn’t that a big word.”

You showed the tell tale signs of being a lesbian for years, the popular girls all pretended you were preying on them in the changing room, calling you a d*ke for years until you reached the point of just changing in the bathroom to stop yourself from snapping at them. They must’ve always had a hunch, and why ever they thought Liz was your brother's girlfriend is beyond you. Men truly are more trouble than they’re worth.

“Yes, I’m gay. Yes, Elizabeth is my wife. I didn’t realise this would be earth shattering information.” You cast your eyes up to the ceiling, erected like a great old Church steeple, and shutter them for a moment, gathering your bearings. “I’m going to find Liz, little man. Told you I shouldn't have come.”

“Don’t call me little man!”

“I’m ten minutes older than you, I’ll call you what I like.” you tease, sticking your tongue out childishly, receiving a sarcastic sneer from your brother. Right now, all you want is Liz. “I wish I could say it was nice to see you all again, but then we’d all be liars. Goodbye.”

They gawk in a greatly uncouth and infantile manner as you stride away, pep in your step as you approach your stunning wife, wrapping your arm around her stomach as she waits for her tea—English Breakfast, naturally—to cool down.

“Hey beautiful,” you greet.

“Hey, you. What happened?” she asks, instantly noting the sallow bags that have swiftly formed beneath your eyes.

“They were being arseholes, c’mon, let’s just stand in the corner until it’s socially acceptable to leave this hellhole.”

“We can go now if you’re uncomfortable, baby.”

Ever the forward, sympathetically thinking wife.

“No, no. I came here, I’d better make it worth my while.”

She tangles her fingers with yours, “Okay darling. Say the word, we leave.”

There aren’t words for how safe you feel thanks to Elizabeth, even just with this fractional amount of contact from her. She’s the answer to all your prayers and more, the thing in life you'll never deserve. Her love for you is endless, her affections infinite, and every day, you fall more and more in love with her, especially when she’s as kind as she is now.

It barely takes five minutes, the two of you hugging, kissing, leaning against a broad oak pillar, half shadowed, for someone to approach. One of the girls you despised, costume jewellery on her wrists, a self aggrandised smirk painted onto her fake lips. Martha? Mabel? Maddie?

“I heard you were here,” she starts, placing her tackily manicured hand onto her hip, “it’s so good to see you! How are you?”

“Great, thanks.” you say blandly, keeping your attention on Elizabeth’s hand entwined with yours.

“This is your… friend? Why did you bring a friend to this?”

She laughs mirthlessly, such a fake sound—like this cow's boobs—it makes your primal instincts flare. Elizabeth holds you impossibly closer, her arm around your waist tightening as you seek solace in her.

“y/n and I are married, thank you. I don’t appreciate the homophobic, disrespectful insinuations.”

She stifles another laugh, “You’re punching above your weight a bit aren’t you, y/n.”

“Don’t rise to it,” Liz headily murmurs in your ear, sending pleasant, calming vibrations throughout your whole body.

You gulp down as much air as you can, curling tighter into Liz, before saying what you thought all those years ago, “I’d rather be ‘punching’ and married to a woman I love rather than be a Goddamn trophy wife going nowhere, leeching off daddy’s money. People like you will never change. I’m happy, and I have a good feeling that’s more than the likes of you and your sad old minions can say.”

“Sweetheart, come on.” Liz whispers, and her hold on you increases until it begins to pinch, not that you mind, and then she’s thankfully tugging you away.

You barely make it out the door, Liz leaning down to kiss you heartily, passionately, before people are clamouring over you, what’s-her-faces friends, people you used to be in fair acquaintance with, all speaking together, their voices overlapping in what you can only believe to be expressions of acceptance.

“Um, thank you, I’ll just be back in a moment.” you say to those who bother to listen. Next thing, you’re darting out the way you came, tugging Liz down the great stone steps in front of the behemoth building, and then are leaning against the old wall, almost crumbling with rubble on the exterior at least, not as well preserved as the inside.

She joins you not a moment later, ferreting around the pockets in her skirt for the spare cigarette and lighter she slipped in earlier. Liz doesn’t condone your smoking in any way whatsoever, and in fact she’s the main reason that you quit, but she knows that when your anxiety is high during times like these, one can’t hurt. She always comes prepared.

She is definitely the most consistent, reliable thing in your life by a long shot. Naturally, you two have your fair share of ups and downs, and on the occasion you get your periods at the same time, you’re a complete dichotomy of furious fights and condoling cuddles, while the rest of the time you find yourselves in sheer throes of passion. You may be a dependable couple bound to stay together forever, but that doesn’t mean that the flame of lust once born there has even momentarily flickered: it’s why you work so well. Men are awful in bed, from both of your experiences. Only a woman truly knows how to please another woman. And in the many ways that Liz is a home-body and sticks to the safe side of things, sex is not one of those areas, and you frequently wind up in another one of her barmy—though blissfully pleasurable—experiments. Her daring never goes amiss, and you can’t help but pray that she has something up her sleeve (besides the cigarette) to dull the ache of the day, and also the growing desire pooling between your legs upon seeing have such a naturally demanding power, and looking so Goddamn stunning in her maxi dress. And the lip nibble, God—

“Before you ask, I’m not shagging you out here.” she says, lighting your cigarette with steady hands.

You inhale the smoke, allowing it to form dark halos around your head once you puff it out through pursed lips, hoping it obscures your sheepish smile and averted eyes from Liz’s view.

“I wasn't thinking about that.”

“Yes you were. You forget how well I know you.”

You shoot her a sardonic smile and take another deep drag, the bitter taste pouring into your senses, filling your lungs, calming your mind before you let it go with one long, shaky breath. The smoke has a way of revealing the air, making an artistry of its swirls and flow, something you’ve always been able to appreciate. Ever the wise one, Liz just sees the poison it’s creating within your body, and will do anything to make you stop.

The sick, intrusive thought that you might be disappointing her by this simple act alone rises a cough to your throat with the next puff, but in reality she looks so nonchalant, her eyes closed, a simple smile playing on her perfect lips as she revels in the moment, in your presence, her pinky finger looped just over yours against the crumbling brick wall. Nonetheless, the uneasiness is enough for you to stub the cigarette out under your shoe before it’s even half-way smoked.

“Baby, you okay?” she asks sympathetically, turning to face you so that her shoulder is pressed to the wall, her spare arm flying around to brush against your upper arm, thumb caressing the flesh there through your clothes.

“Yeah, course. Can we stay out here a bit, though?”

You expect her to wholeheartedly agree, because you could tell by the subtle sensing of her limber body and the sudden snap attitude she had that she was just as uncomfortable in there as you were, perhaps more so. Her reflexes may as well be yours with how used you are to them. That’s exactly how you know that she’s going to refuse your request by the almost imperceptible crest of her nails into your supple skin.

“Your brother texted, he asked you to come back in: people won’t stop badgering him about you.” She pauses, but upon hearing you huff, hurriedly leaps back in. “I mean of course we don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, this is about you, not your brother…”

But it is about your brother. You agreed to come here today to be of help to him. And besides, Elizabeth has almost as much loyalty to your brother as she does to you, the two of them having been friends before he introduced you to her. That certainly didn’t have the outcome he was expecting, but you’ve all remained close nonetheless. Mentally, you give yourself a shakedown. How could you be so selfish? Today isn’t about you, not really. Sure you’d like to make peace with your past and your old tormentors one last time before leaving and never seeing them again, but the main reason is support.

“No, you’re right,” you say after a long moment of lamentation.

“That’s a first,” Liz snorts.

You smack her playfully, “Watch it, you.”

“Hey, who’s the pillow princess around here?”

Your cheeks instantly flush. “That was one time.”

“More like five,” she umms and ahhs, but grasps your hand a little tighter regardless.

It’s a fair comment on her part: Liz does wield the majority of the power in the relationship, and is definitely more of a top that you are, but you ensure that you pleasure her just as much as she does you, it’s only fair. Apart from those few times you decided to try something new… you got tired of that pretty quickly, though, since you couldn’t go too long without tasting her while you were in bed. No matter how many times you’ve had sex, no matter how many mind-blowing orgasms you receive, your desire for her is never quite quelled. Frankly, you hope it never is.

“Stop thinking about fucking me, babe,” she scolds, and pulls you up fully standing from your temporary reprieve against the wall. “Later, I promise. Not here.”

Embarrassment heats your cheeks at the fact she so easily deciphers your filthy thoughts, but then again, she always has. She leads you back inside, and all but hands you over to your brother, practically jumping with impatience at the door to the hall.

“Thank God you’re b—” he cuts himself off, moving closer to you, imperiously sniffing your clothes. “Did you smoke again?” You nod. “Fucking hell, well, there’s another conversation topic, we’ll talk about this later. Can you believe this lot didn’t know you were gay? What morons…”

“Hey, I’m not that obviously gay, am I?”

The dead silence that envelops you gives you the answer you weren’t too keen on receiving in the first place.

“But!” Liz helpfully adds in her most cheery tone. “If you hadn’t been so obviously gay, I probably never would’ve asked you out.”

She beams even as you roll our eyes, “So endearing, babe.”

“Hurry up, this lot are arseholes.”

“I know.” you deadpan. He sends you a snarky smile.

Following him through the small clans of people meandering and congregating amongst themselves, all with some sort of beverage in their hands, you feel your hand grow clammy in Liz’s. Your mind doesn’t get the chance to run away with itself or whirr on for too long, though, before you’re pulled into a group of people—all three of you—and are all welcomed with enthused hugs and professions of well wishes.

“Oh how are you? You look so well, I hope you’ve been doing good!”

Well, you think, if they cared enough they’d have contacted you. Half of them are your brothers Facebook friends and he’s often posting pictures of you hanging out, or childhood throwbacks, and tagging you in them in plain view. Thankfully, your page is private, and Elizabeth doesn’t even have social media. She’s smart.

You engage in conversation—well, they do, you just listen and hum when you’re supposed to, making surprised faces at the right parts—about one classmate who couldn’t be here because she married a mobster and isn’t allowed to discuss her lifestyle. She isn't. She got pregnant straight out of school and is going through her second divorce: your brother saw her recently. Who are you to deny them gossip when you really couldn’t care less?

In minutes they seem to have exhausted all possible fascinating subject matters, or at least make it appear that way as they turn all eyes on you.

“So, y/n, we hear you have a girlfriend!”

Not again.

“Wife; this is Liz.”

“How are you.” she says, more by way of greeting than having any regard for them.

“Oh my God,” one woman clamours, “are you Australian? My boyfriend is Australian! Maybe you know him?”

Liz’s face breaks into a wide smile, the first one of the event. Who cares that it’s at the expense of another person's intelligence, or lack thereof? You and your brother struggle to stifle your own laughter as you loll your head against his broad shoulder, too.

“Australia is more than seven and a half million square kilometres. In context, the UK is only two-forty-two thousand. We have a population of 25 million. I’d be more likely to meet the queen and the president.” she quips. Ever the fount of useless knowledge; as are you both.

“Oh,” says the woman, casting a sheepish gaze away.

“But, um, yeah, I am Australian.”

“You’re tall,” another blatantly observes, “you look Dutch.”

“Polish-Irish. Not far off.” she says again, fixing a smile of nonchalance.

People turn to you for something to say. You have nothing: nothing to say to these awful sycophants, so you’re half relieved and half angered further when your name is called from somewhere behind you.

“y/n y/l/n!”

Great, another bellend. Star of the football team. You settle yourself after a sudden wave of dizziness from spinning on your heel to see just who was calling you, and you’re not particularly surprised, but not glad either, when he’s excited to join the dull circle.

“Actually,” you correct, “it’s y/n Debicki.”

Silence cools around the circle. What, have these people been living under rocks for the past God knows how many years?

“Oh, why?” he asks.

“I got married and took my wife’s name.” you grit out just barely, balancing from foot to foot, the wooden floor creaking around you. Some more wine would be really good right about now, but instead you just settle for an intoxicating peck from Liz’s lips, the chiffon of her skirt shifting again to reveal your held hands and glistening wedding rings.

“Oh!”

The silence is agony. Why can’t the ground just swallow you up already? Your brother's getting angry, his fist clenching, picking at his nails, while everyone else in the group is exchanging anxious eye contact. Liz and her insanely long legs could probably give you a leg-up to one of the immensely tall windows as a quicker, though slightly more problematic escape route…

“By the way, that’s totally fine.”

“Yeah,” someone adds, you can’t be bothered to look who. “We totally accept it.”

“It’s like you’re not even gay, but straight, and normal. N—not that being gay isn’t normal, just that we don’t see you any differently.”

“You’re the same y/n you always were.” one smiles at last.

Your brother is going to lose it in three… two… one…

“Oh yeah? The y/n that you all relentlessly picked on and victimised for years? The same y/n who was forced to hide her identity and everything she wanted to be for years just because you back-thinking bastards didn’t want a lesbian in the class?” he shouts, flailing his arms madly about, hissing one of the broad, tree trunk pillars in the process. He doesn’t flinch. Turning to you, he starts in a softer voice, “I never should’ve asked you to come here, I’m so sorry y/n, I was so selfish to bring you back to this hellhole. It’s no wonder you didn’t want to come with these dipshits tossing around! And Liz, you don’t deserve this either. Please, do us all a favour, and take y/n home, never bringing her back here. You were right all these years, sweet, it’s the place nightmares are born. And you scummy lot should all be ashamed of yourselves!”

His breath is ragged once he’s done with his rant, his forehead glistening with sweat, his knuckles white with tension.

“Liz, could you get him some water, please?” you whisper into her ear.

She nods affirmatively, and breaks from your grasp, steering your hunched, tense, seething brother in the direction of the drinks table.

“Thanks, I guess,” you begin, kicking your heels into the splintering oak floor, your wine long forgotten, “like, for the acceptance and stuff. But I’ve always been this way, he’s right. It’s not some earth shattering revelation, I was just too shy to come out because you all tossed slurs around like it was okay.” You take a deep breath, and in that time, Liz has returned and stuck herself to your side, your brother happily alone in the corner with a cold glass of water as you cast a glance over your shoulder. You comb your fingers through Elizabeth’s coiffed blonde hair to relieve some anxiety, and are further reassured when she presses her lips to your earlobe, glistening with the diamonds she gifted you. “Besides, this shouldn’t be a thing you have to zealously profess to accept, it should be just as normal as one of you walking in with your heterosexual partner.” As some of them have done, and no one’s batted an eyelid.

A din of agreement sounds out from them, but you know they’re all more than a little meek after being scolded like schoolchildren by your big scary brother. He’s a teddy bear, really, but when he flips, he flips.

When you arise no cohesive response from anyone, you rest your head on Liz’s shoulder, and ask, “Did you see that article on the BBC yesterday morning?”

You have no idea what article you’re on about, but one leaps in with something about climate change, and one about a rise in violent crime in the area. Thank God you don’t live there anymore.

“I forgot about that one!” you gasp with feigned surprise.

Liz looks down on you warmly, chuckling at the mischievous glint in your eye. She knows exactly what you’re up to. But after today, you can walk away from this place, despite the stunning old architecture of the gorgeous building, the beautiful panelling on the walls and the window you spent so many hours gazing at while daydreaming wistfully through assemblies and exams, never to return. Frankly, after this shit show, you’d have it no other way. The teachers will be arriving soon, and in the hopes you see your favourite old teacher, Mrs Alleman, you decide it can’t hurt just to stick around a little bit longer, even if you don’t listen to anyone's conversation. It’s not like they want to involve you.

Before you know it, ten dreary minutes have passed, and as each second slips by, you’re losing the will to live. Even these people are bored to death by the sound of their own voices, unsurprisingly. You’ve just busied yourself the whole time by playing with Liz’s long, slender fingers and her glistening silver ring. She’s becoming more and more antsy, though, so you’re unsurprised when she moves to stand away, speaking only when there’s a brief intermission of silence.

“I’m heading to the loo, honey. Which way is it?” she asks politely.

“Out the door we came, but on the other side of the corridor is a closed door, down that corridor it’s the fourth on the right, up a couple of stairs.”

Her eyes widen, “This place is a maze.”

“I know,” you chuckle, and lean up to peck her lips. “They’re the staff ones, down a cohorted route in a forbidden corridor so we wouldn’t use them.”

“You,” she shakes her head, bending down to kiss you again from her standing position, though she does practically double down, and has to press a hand to her chest to prevent her dress from falling, “are so randomly knowledgeable.” It’s really more of an awkward stowed away memory, but you take it anyway. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

As she draws away, she catches your lip in her teeth. Again. If it wouldn’t arouse suspicion, you’d be after her like a bullet, but, well… So you just sit there, counting the minutes, the seconds until she returns and you’re able to make a quick exit, barely making an agreeable sound or two when someone deigns to involve you in the deathly boring conversation they’re having about the FTSE or something, but she doesn’t return. It’s only after five minutes—you meticulously checked your watch—that you realise she’s probably gotten lost, your heart fluttering into your throat.

“I think Liz is lost, I’m gonna go find her,” you say, not that anyone exactly notes your absence or offers you as much as a nod, so you stand and stroll away, not caring about your knocked over glass as you stalk out of the great hall, breaking into a slight jog as soon as the doors are closed behind you.

You could swear you catch your brother winking across the room as they close, but you can’t be sure, not with how crazy you are after Liz did that thing she does every single time she instigates sex. You’ve been together for more than four marvellous years, and yet it still brings fire into your veins, butterflies into your stomach, and lust into your mind.

She’s not in the foyer, or down the ostentatious portrait corridor, so you burst into the pristine white and purple bathroom, only to find Liz leant against the wall, a slight bulge in her dress.

“God, I was wondering if you’d ever get the message, I’ve been waiting for ages.” she huffs, slamming her mouth onto yours impatiently.

You gasp, winding your arms around her neck, not complaining in the slightest when you hear the door lock and you’re lifted high against the wall. Your hand flies down on instinct, and you’re not disappointed when your hand wraps around something long, hard and thick.

The squeak of surprise that leaves your lips only spurs Liz on more. “You wore the strap.”

“I went and fetched it from the car, thought we could have some fun, make this worth your while.”

“I love you so much.” you breathe, no time for courtesy.

Crashing your lips down onto hers, you lick filthily into her mouth, your tongue skimming her teeth, but your control barely lasts a moment before she’s overpowering you, nipping at your lip as she busies herself otherwise with gaining access to your throbbing, drenched core.

“Liz…” you moan. When she skims her fingers over the lace edge of your panties.

“So wet already baby,” she taunts, her breath hot on your ear, “have I done all this? Such a dirty girl…”

Her voice holds a gravelly quality, down to lust you’d wager. Her accent becomes so much more pronounced during times of passion, too. Her voice alone sends another wave of wetness gushing through you, soaking Liz’s fingertips as she slides them under your panties and into your folds.

“Oh poor helpless baby,” she croons, biting down on your neck harshly. “I don’t even need to use lube today, do I?”

You can’t respond, can’t even try to. She’s so intoxicating you could cry. All that’d come out is senseless babble. You can barely muster a breath with her gaze of such intensity burning into your fucked-out face. In all fairness, she doesn’t usually have to, since she makes you gush with a single glance, but the sensual jibe does make you a little embarrassed.

You can’t think straight when she plunges a single, long digit deep within your velvety walls, stroking at a torturous pace.

“F— fuck, faster, please.” you stammer.

“Only because my baby asked so nicely.”

Her hand begins to move faster against you, the rustle of clothes nothing compared to the sounds of your wetness. She adds another digit daringly, and pumps within you faster, her technique impeccable. If she’s not careful, you’ll be falling apart around her fingers in little more than a moment. Over the years she’s learnt how to bring you to mind-shattering climax embarrassingly quickly.

“Lizzie…” you moan when she hits that special spongy spot that makes you see stars behind your eyes.

Quick thinking as ever, she clamps one elegant hand over your mouth, her pale fingers digging into your cheeks, the metal of her rings cool against your lips. You can’t help yourself, your tongue darting out to lick the band of her wedding ring, skilfully wrapping your wet muscle around her. She can never resist when you do that, and her own knees begin to buckle, but her pace speeds up.

“Baby, I’m close,” you hiss against her hand, words muffled.

Your shoulder presses painfully into a ridge of the wall, but you can’t care, not when her wrist is flicking so quickly, yet somehow each thrust is deeper and more pleasurable than the last, the pads of her fingers catching all the right places within our quivering walls, continually hitting that spot. The heel of her palm keeps hitting your clit with a voracious intensity, needing to bring you toppling over the edge.

You come unravelled with a cry of her name, your legs unable to even partially hold yourself up as she settles you down gently on the floor, forcing you to lean heavily against the countertop. Stars and fireworks erupt to create images of Liz behind your eyelids, in the front of your brain. And the noise you made… After that, you wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in the hall knows what you’re up to, and somehow, that only fuels your need for Liz further.

“How do you get hotter every time you do that?” she husks.

Purple glittery potpourri on the window-sill prickles at your upper arm as you shuffle backwards, reaching out to Elizabeth with grabby hands. Her petite chest heaves with heavy breaths, her hair sticking up a little in cute blonde spikes.

“You wanna sit, babe?” you ask breathlessly.

Your own vision is a bit blurred from riding on cloud nine just moments ago, your juices running down your legs, glistening in the harsh bathroom light.

“You’ve always got a seat with me.” You wink, and wet your lips with your tongue. “Come sit.”

She chuckles at you, instead moving to kneel between your open legs on the edge of the counter, hovering over you

“Wait until we get home,” she teases, pressing the cold rings on her hand to your inner thigh, “I don’t trust myself, I’ll never leave if I sit now.”

Her lips lace with yours filthily, and you find yourself unable to stop your legs reflexively bolting out to wrap around her hips again, hand coming up to cup her cheek and neck with a bruising hold. Her hips rock against yours, and with your core already opened and revealed to her, all it takes is a slight fidget and a particularly harsh rut of her pelvis, and the priapic extension of Elizabeth—attached, thankfully, by a harness—is buried to the hilt within you. Your gasp is silent, your mouth opening in an inaudible ‘o’, a soundless plea for more. She’s prepped you well as always, and sought to open you up fully, which means that only a moment later you’re tapping her shoulder to signal for her to move.

The bulbous tip of the toy gains your attention rather swiftly as it grazes that heartily stimulated spot that Liz was so focussed on just minutes earlier. Her hips move with such grace even in such an ungainly act, her years of dance training aiding her elegance. God, she’s just so perfect in every way.

“Fuck, baby, I think I’m close—” she murmurs in your ear.

She begins to suck hickeys into your jawline, rendering you utterly speechless at the onslaught of pleasure you’re receiving all at once. Your boobs are bouncing as she pounds into you harder on the counter, the base of the strap now hitting your clit.

“Me too,” you eventually garner to choke out.

Your own pleasure can wait, take a damn backseat, because sweat is beading on Liz’s forehead as she wrecks her knees to fuck you more furiously, delivering you all of the pleasure you could ever want. But Elizabeth? She deserves it far more than you do after everything she’s done for you today.

She bites her lip, probably to keep a moan down the same way you are by biting your tongue, and she proceeds to hook her willowy arms around the crooks of your knees, thus tugging your legs up onto her shoulder, allowing her to hit an even deeper angle than before.

You can’t help the obscene whimper that escapes you, shrill and so pleasured, “Baby, keep— ohmygod please!”

Your head falls back against the hard porcelain rim of the sink, knocking some sense into you. This is your chance, while her eyes are still closed and the veins and ridges of the fake plastic cock are driving deep inside you, squeezed by your clenching walls. Slipping your own arm down her body and between the two of you, you find your way beneath the strap and onto her throbbing pearl.

“Shit!” she squeaks upon the first spark of contact, her body temporarily seizing, but she falls back into her previous pace within moments.

You rub circles on her voraciously, suddenly darting up to capture her lips in a sloppy kiss as a cry threatens to spill from her lips. But then you feel it coming, and your entire body tenses in anticipation, your eyes flying wide open to watch heaven crash right before your eyes.

First, her shoulders tense, followed by her eyelashes fluttering against her sharp cheekbone without her even being aware, then her legs try to involuntarily clench around your hand, her clit throbbing with anticipation as you speed up your movements. Her knees go next, then her arms, and she’s unable to hold herself up, but her hips don’t stop once. That’s when it happens.

“y/n, y/n, y/n.” she repeats like it’s her prayer of salvation.

Every muscle in her body quivers, her lips parting, her nose scrunching. Her teeth then catch your lip in the kiss you’re mixed up in, and her hips still. It doesn’t matter, since you’ve reached your own climax just from watching her fall apart at your very own mercy, your own legs falling from her shoulders, open wide on the counter as you chant her name in as quiet a whisper as you can muster.

Heavy breathing resonates through the small room, the stifling air now reeking of sex.

“C’mere,” you coax.

The counter is cold beneath you, the sink uncomfortable as you lie down flat, but when Liz crawls feebly into your arms, it matters a whole lot less. The comfort she provides is, and always has been, incomparable. Ethereal is the only way to describe her this way, too, blonde hair ruffled as she curls into your side, burying her nose into your shoulder, her arm slung over your waist.

“Do you think you got your revenge, babe?” she asks in a quiet voice, husky, laced with sex.

“Definitely. There’s no way they didn’t hear that.”

“Probably more than what most of those has-beens have got in years.”

You meet her twinkling eyes, and dissolve into a fit of giggles together, gripping her even tighter. It always was a secret fantasy of yours to do something like this, but you never imagined you’d be here nearly a decade later, fucking your wife in the staff bathroom. That’s just… beyond, but so hot.

“Ready to blow this place?”

“More than,” you answer, “but safety first.”

She gazes up at you, pouts and grumbles, but slips off you and into the left hand stall anyway, while you take the right. Once she emerges, the strap is safely stowed away in a discreet bag—one you purchased specifically should a chance like this ever arise since you’re not fans of handbags—and she turns the tap on. You wash your hands in a contented silence, and fix each other's clothes and hair the same way, until you’re at least half way presentable (though still more than mildly dishevelled) in order to just escape to the car and then hope at long merciful last.

“Should we text your brother?”

“I’ll do it when we reach the car,” you tell her, taking her hand as you unfasten the lock and pelt out into the corridor. “Wait, one minute.”

She watches you peculiarly as you pull out perfume from your pocket, spritzing it around the room, before re-entering fully and cranking the window open. At least this way the scent of sex is partially masked.

“Ever the resourceful one,” she chuckles, following your lead down the corridor, her long legs bounding beside you.

Your giggles carry around the high ceilinged building, bumping and bouncing off every wall so it seems, and once you're out into the foyer, she ensures to kiss you loudly, bending down to meet your height, just to test if your kisses have the same effect.

You don’t get to test that, however, before an all too familiar voice snaps you out of your trance, and suddenly, you’re fifteen and being told off for late homework again.

“y/n!”

You scurry to hide Liz behind you, as if that’s of any use whatsoever, and almost melt into tears when you see Mrs Alleman.

“Oh dear, how good to see you.” she professes, and before you quite know what to do with yourself, she’s standing right in front of you, wearing the same stylishly sensible shoes she always did.

“And you, Miss.”

“Who’s this?”

Glee forces a wide smile onto your face, standing aside to allow Elizabeth’s full beauty to be appreciated.

“This is my wife, Elizabeth,” you say, the proudest thing you’ve said all evening. “This is Mrs Alleman, my language teacher. She taught me everything I know.”

“Oh stop it,” she plays coy, but is gasping and gawking joyously beneath it. “Mr Smith owes me a tenner now. I predicted you’d come here with a female partner of some sort, he said you’d just come as an out and proud lesbian but single.”

Your jaw drops, and you can see Elizabeth’s chest rattling a little with swallowed laughter.

“I’m sorry, what? You had a bet on me being gay?”

“Oh yes, it first started when you were in year eleven and so helplessly queer, we couldn’t help but keep placing bets on how long you’d stay in the closet.” She places a gentle hand on your upper arm, noting the evident flush about you, and turns towards Liz. “Anyway, hi Elizabeth. You treat our girl well, she was a great student.”

“Always, Ma’am.” Liz answers dutifully, squeezing your hand even tighter in a silent promise. “She’s the most wonderful thing to have ever happened to me, and I’m glad she had an influence like you among all that lot of bogans.”

Mrs Alleman is impressed, you can tell since she’s wearing that same delighted expression she did when you told her you got into your top choice university with the results you aimed for, thanks to her teaching. “Tall, out, and Aussie? She really does have it all. And as much as I’d like to argue, you’re totally right, that year was a damn nuisance.”

“Somehow, no one has matured since we left?” you comment with feigned shock.

“That doesn’t surprise me.” It didn’t surprise you either. They were a fat lot of use, the whole lot of them. At least you and your brother were able to do good on your promise to get away from them all. “What are you doing now?”

“Oh, I work in translation for the home office and cabinet ministers.” Though your statement doesn’t hold as much pride as the one about Elizabeth being your wife did.

Her eyes grow wide, “That’s brilliant! I know you always wanted to do something like that.”

“I did, and I actually enjoy it.”

Mrs Alleman’s face softens, “I hoped you would. But promise me you’ll never become a teacher.”

You loose a chuckle, saying, “Never,” before stilling to a beat of easy silence.

“I love those earrings, by the way.”

“Oh!” You twist them subconsciously. “Anniversary present.”

“Y’know, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to get inside and make a speech,” she grumbles. “Drop me an email, I’d love to catch up and properly see how you’re doing. Bring this tall drink of water if you’d like,” she adds with a wink.

“I’d really like that Miss, thank you.” you say, flushing a little.

Mrs Alleman was always one for affection, so you’re not entirely surprised when she approaches you with wide arms, her court shoes muffled on the foyer carpet. You accept the hug, and you’re surprised when Liz does the same. You say your goodbyes, agree to meet again, and let Elizabeth lead you back to the car, your fingers woven together.

“Was that worth being dragged out of the house for?” Liz asks.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Perhaps shoving that strap down my throat will make it a little more worthwhile,” you say with a smirk.

“I heard that!” Mrs Alleman shouts from the top of the stone steps, gazing at you disapprovingly despite the laughs tumbling from her.

You cling to Liz, pressing your lips into a thin line when you feel your phone buzz, your brother's name popping up on the screen.

‘Everyone knows what you were doing. Don’t come back.’

‘We weren’t planning on it,’ you type back. Not now you’ve reaped your revenge, at least. You shut your phone after adding to the message, ‘Drinks at ours tonight.’

These people from your past are insignificant, Liz is your future and your forever.

#night manager jed #elizabeth debicki #liz debicki #elizabeth debicki avatars #vita & virginia #elizabeth debicki imagine #elizabeth debicki fanfic #elizabeth debicki x reader #elizabeth debicki smut #elizabeth debicki fluff #elizabeth debicki angst #elizabeth debicki x you #elizabeth debicki tom hiddleston #wlw imagine

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aclosetfan · 3 years

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MASTER FIC LIST

I know this is totally pretentious but I’m making a master list of all my fics/wips because I have a lot of stuff saved onto to tumblr that isn’t on my computer and I keep losing them b/c tumblr’s tagging system is a farce 😡

all under the cut!!

long fics

Parasomina

navigation: one two three four five six

Three foster brothers–Brick, Boomer, and Butch–are relocated to Townsville and are less than happy about their new placement. When a group of their “strictly-out-of-necessity” friends take them to the old “haunted” preschool, they don’t blink an eye. They’re a product of the foster care system, how could they possibly be afraid of an old nursery rhyme? (They will admit, though, that the killer doppelgängers are slightly concerning)

Bonus content: (x)

Fake dating Au (greens)

Navigation: (1) (2) (3)

When Buttercup is asked to Prom by Elmer she obviously has only two choices: 1) say no, which she is physically incapable of, or 2) create a totally feasible fake boyfriend. Piece of cake.

Acting Normal (Buttercup-centric; greens)

TBA

Another Buttercrush

TBA

one-shots

Mojo’s Funeral

if there’s one story im actually proud of it’s this one lol. (Even if the grammar is atrocious 😬) There’s nothing like a funeral to bring a City together. (and people flying back)

BubblesxBrick -- Mystery Duo AU

could probably be a drabble, but idk if i’ll ever write this au again. Brick and Blossom are a mystery duo, but it’s not a reds story. thicker plot explanation inside.

pronouns

the two sets of triplets get reacquainted.

growing pains

Teacher’s would call Buttercup a problem child, the Professor would disagree.

Till death do us part

Her sister told her love didn’t know death. She wished it did. (Greens; major character death)

Beat

Sedusa, HIM, and that dance called life. For pufftober2021 :)

drabbles and snippets

Sick Day

Boomer gets COVID, and they plan to put him down.

Undercover

Buttercup draws the short stick and gets stuck as Princess's new evil sidekick. Believe Buttercup, it's a lot lamer than it sounds.

(slight Blossom x Princess)

they call it team spirit (or princess experiences gay panic)

Princess helps save the day with the girls, which is cool and all, but this drabble focuses on Princess and Blossom after the fact.

What’s in a name??

The girls lament over their names. And the boys admit to the meanings behind their own.

lunch break blues

Bubbles is feeling down on herself, but Blossom’s there to cheer her up! Just realized the title could imply the “blue” pairing, but this is sister bonding stuff. No boys allowed ya know? Also Buttercup’s there too.

endearing moments

2/3 “chapters” completed. AU where despite what the boys say, the girls insist they’re best friends

please cw please im out here begging

princess x blossom drabble

team-up

the girls need the boys for a job, but their services don’t come cheap

mini-skirts

Butch has priorities, Boomer’s safety ain’t one of them.

Does your boyfriend compliment your makeup?

joke post based off a tweet between Bubbles and Boomer. established relationship.

Boy Trouble

Bubbles gets annoyed when Blossom elevates her counterpart to an unstoppable god.

Social Mishap

Brick says something embarrassing in front of his brothers

Babe

joke post based on a tweet between Butch and Buttercup. established relationship...right??

Engagement--a greens scene

Bubbles and Boomer are engaged, and Bubbles is forcing their families to meet. This drabble marks the beginning of the greens having a positive relationship. not romantic. they become friends first.

Acting Normal--Drabble

Buttercrush snippet--cht 6

vague plot ideas/outlines

Brick’s Hat

Bunny 1 & 2

6-teen au

powerpossible

don’t tell Bubbles

Artistic Inspirations

To save a sister

Pimped

Vampire zombie mashup

Grounded

Bubble Band

Happy death day

#my writing #master fic list #dont pay too much attention to titles and summaries #those aren't my forte lmao #so its probably incoherent

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baffling-bisexual-quack · 3 years

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Death Brings Us Closer

Hey!!! This is the first fic i’ve ever posted, so it’s kind of nerve-wracking. It’s a peter parker x reader fic, and i tried to be gender-neutral. Also it’s disregarding a ton of events in the movies... If anyone sees this, positive comments are encouraged :)

Warning: Swearing & near-death experience ( i don’t dive into that)

Summary: You’re recovering from a near-death experience with the avengers.

You jumped. It seemed uncalled for, but this was your personality. You were always bullied in college, but this was extreme. A group of kids, boys & girls alike had chased you up onto the roof of the Mettely dorms. The dusty ground was hard to get your fitting on, but they had pursued you up there with no problems. Now, they were backing into you. The main problem was that this roof had no barrier, so one wrong move and you would be flying down a 10-story drop. Might as well just kill yourself now. You gulped hard as you glanced behind you. The edge of the building was less than 2 feet away, and the people were still coming towards you. You needed a plan, and now.

“What, you afraid of heights?” The guy you assumed was the leader said. He had a smug look on his face.

The thing is, you were a spiteful person. If someone said you couldn’t do something, you went right ahead and did it, not caring whether you would get hurt or die. That was mainly the reason you’d reputation was so bad.

“You can’t survive that jump! Nobody can! So why don’t you just surrender now?” The rest of the people nodded & smirked, agreeing with the guy.

Like an idiot, you went “No one can survive it, huh? Then I’ll be the first!”

You jumped off the roof. Big mistake. The ground was cement under you. Nothing to break you fall. Your life flashed before your eyes. You didn’t think it would end at the age of 19. As your head hit the cement, you heard gasps had shouts from everyone around you. All you could feel was a throbbing pain in your lungs and your head. Well this is what death feels like, you thought. It was the last thing you thought before you blacked out, barely breathing. You didn’t hear a person trying to talk to you, you didn’t feel him pick you up, you didn’t see his car that he rushed you in to get you to the safest place he knew, where some of the best doctors were.

He didn’t know if you were alive anymore.

When you woke up, you could hear people discussing something about someone. Your head was throbbing and it felt like there was an elephant sitting on your stomach. You opens you eyes to see 5 different people who you had never met in your life standing over you. Wait, you may have seen two of them before, but right now, you believed everything and nothing.

“Hurgruphungf” you said trying to get up. You were quickly pushed back down by a boy.

“Where.... what... who...??” You mange to stutter out.

“Oh, you’re up. I can’t believe you’re alive. That was a pretty bad fall. What were you doing jumping off a 10-story building, anyway? Are you suicidal? That’s rough. Anyway, based on the diagnosis and some of the treatments...” You cut the boy off by covering his mouth with your hand, which had a metric ton of tubes taped to it.

“Who. The fuck. Are you.” You said, making it clear that there was no messing about with you.

“Ah, you probably don’t know me. We go to the same university, NYU? I’m in second year, and I think you’re in first? Do I have that right? Anyway, I’m Peter, and this is Bruce, Shuri, Dad, and Dr. Dad. Also known and Tony and Stephen.”

“Ah, yes, knowing there names. That makes me understand why I’m in a hospital bed and my head really hurts and I’m surrounded by a bunch of fucking geniuses!!!” You snapped back. It was just your nature in times like this that you got really sarcastic & snarky.

“Oh, I guess you wouldn’t remember. You jumped off the Mettely dorms roof? Possibly because you’re suicidal? I think? I mean you might not be, but, I-“ Peter was babbling, so you decided to help him by slapping your have over his mouth again.

“I’m not suicidal, those people were backing me into the edge of the roof and there was no barrier so I was going to fall. They’re these bullies and I’ve been their target since the first day I got to university but they never went so far as to almost push me off a building. Then one of them said I couldn’t jump off the side of the building so I had to prove them wrong, right? So I jumped off to show them I could survive and now I’m here.” You stopped to take a breath. By now everyone in the room was staring at you. Even the Bruce guy had stopped checking your vitals to stare at you. Peter gently removed your head from his face and asked,

“So you’re not suicidal?”

“Yeah.” You replied. You had decided that you liked him. For now. As long as he didn’t do anything idiotic or mean.

“Good to know.” He said.

Then, the guy named Tony started taking about your injuries and what they needed to do. It bored you after about 30 seconds, and Peter noticed this and caught your eye, giving you a thumbs up. You gave him a small smile.

“Got it?” Tony concluded.

“Um, yeah, as long as there are no amputations and I can walk and stuff after.” You said, trying not to make it obvious you weren’t listening.

“No, no amputations. There will be surgery, though, and it will take about a year to recover.” The Stephen guy said. He looked like a wizard or something, with those clearly defined cheekbones.

“A fucking year??” You asked dubiously.

“Yes.” Stephen responded.

“Do you have a plan for keeping up with schoolwork?” Shuri asked.

“I don’t even have a ‘pla’” you respond. Peter gives a small laugh at your friends quote.

“Alright, we’re gonna have to put your under for this. Peter, out.” Bruce said, getting down to business.

“But I-“

“Out, Peter!”

“Hmph.”

—————————

After you had woken up, it was revealed that you had been asleep for a day and a half. Much longer than they had expected. But you were alive, and the surgery was a success. It left you feeling like shit.

Peter came to visit you with this really, really tall guy who didn’t look human. He was blonde with one blue and one brown-ish colour. He was wearing armour, which was weird because it didn’t seem like there was a fight going on. Also, he had a huge hammer. Were they planning to just kill you now?

“Hey, you’re up! I just wanted to check. This is my friend, Thor. Thor, this is... I actually don’t think I know your name! Weird. What is it?”

“It’s y/n.”

“Ah. Well, Thor, this is y/n.”

“Greetings, midgardian! I am Thor, god of thunder, king of Asgard.”

“Well, I’m y/n, the biggest idiot you’ll ever meet, who lives their life out of spite.”

Peter laughed a little at this. He seemed to like your sense of humour, which is a good sign.

“I am very unfamiliar with midgardian culture. Anything I should know?” Thor asked eagerly.

“Yes. Live by this word, which is ‘being in a total state of awareness’. The word is: Unagi.” You said, doing the hand motion with your first two fingers like a gun next to your eyeball. Thor gave you a confused look, but nodded along. Peter was laughing really hard, by was trying to hide it.

“Also, the best pickup line is ‘how you doin’?” Peter added on.

“I see.” Thor said, intrigued.

“What’re you guys telling him?” Bruce said, walking in to check on you to or like the ninth time today.

“Unagi.” You said, doing the hand motion.

“And ‘how you doin’?’” Peter said.

Bruce facepalmed. “Don’t listen to them. They’re trying to mess with you.”

“I am confused.” Thor said.

“Alright, you two need to get out so y/n can rest.” Bruce said, ending the conversation.

“Bye, y/n. By the way, I’m spider-man.” Peter said as he left.

“Wait, what? You’re joking, right?” You said. Peter just smiled and left the room with Thor.

“He’s spider-man?” You ask Bruce, hoping that he was joking.

“Yeah, I guess you should know, since you’re gonna be here for awhile. He’s spider-man, I’m the hulk, Tony’s iron man and Stephen’s the sorcerer supreme. Cool, right?” Bruce said nonchalantly.

“Um, yeah. That’s kind of a big deal! I mean like I’m surrounded by avengers & stuff... like. Wow.” You said, slightly shocked.

“Do you wanna lift your arm?” Bruce asked. You knew the question was rhetorical, but you took the opportunity anyway.

“Oh, I wish I could, but I don’t want to.” You said, quoting friends again.

“You’re just like a friends quote machine, aren’t you?”

“Yyyyep!”

“So anyway, what’s going on for you?” Bruce asked.

“Well, I’m in a hospital bed surrounded by avengers, so that happens. You?”

Bruce sighed. “I’m trying to find a way to ask Thor out, but I don’t know how.”

“I’m not great with advice, but can I interest you with a sarcastic comment?”

Bruce have you a dirty look.

“Fine, I’ll stop.” You said.

“Really?”

“No.”

“Ok, well. I really like him, but he’s dated girls in the past and he might not be gay and I don’t want to ruin our really close friendship, y’know?”

“Yeah, that’s a tough situation. If he doesn’t like you than this is all a moo point. It’s like a cow’s opinion. It doesn’t matter. It’s moo.” You replies, hoping he wouldn’t choke the life out of you. Bruce laughed a little and went back to checking you.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad here.

—————————

“Come on! A horse would totally win in a fight with a cow!” You laughed, debating with Peter. You two had gotten really close over the past year. You had even gotten to go on a vacation with the avengers. Your life had pretty much gone back to normal. You had your own room in the avengers tower, because Bruce, Shuri, Tony and Stephen wanted to make sure you were ok. You would be leaving in a week, and it was sad to think you had to leave these people who’d basically become your family behind. It felt wrong. But they didn’t want you here, right? They were just being nice & caring for you. Yeah. It’s right to leave.

“Hey, you know Thor & Bruce went on a date?” Peter said.

“They didn’t!”

“They did! They’re a thing now!”

“Oh my god!”

“I know!”

“Ah, i’m gonna miss this.” You said kind of sadly.

“Yeah. Why do you have to go?” Peter pouted.

“It’s not helpful for me to stay here! I’m just a thorn in your guys’ side.”

Peter gave you a disappointed look. Over the course of the year, he had fallen in love with you. He tried really hard to repress it, but he just loved everything about you and it broke his heart that you had to go. You would see each other on campus, but it wasn’t the same. The worst part is you were totally oblivious to it.

“Do you ever have bad days?” Peter asked.

“Sure, I have my bad days, but then I remember what a cute smile I have. Hey, I have an idea for a trick we can play on Thor.” You said, a mischievous smile on your face.

“Do you wanna get Loki to help?”

“Yes. Trust me, it’ll be great.”

—————————

A week later, it was the day of your departure. By 9:00 am, you had gotten all of your stuff together. It was only a backpack of clothes, because that’s all you really needed when you were there. The avengers supplied the rest. You went to the living room where most of the avengers were to say goodbye.

“Hey, guys. Just wanted to say bye before I leave.”

Stephen and a couple other people stood up and walked over to talk to you.

“You sure have made a fast recovery for someone who almost died a year ago.” Tony joked. He was practically hanging off Stephen’s side.

“Yeah. Well. You know how it is.” You said.

“I’m going to miss all your friends quotes.” Bruce said. You knew this was genuine. You two were also pretty close.

“Could I recommend watching a little more ‘ESPN’ and a little less ‘E.’?” You knew it would make Bruce laugh.

After all the other goodbyes were done, Peter came in to say goodbye. You were going to miss that asshole so much. He came in and you and him stood in front of the elevator facing each other.

“Bye, Peter.” You practically whispered. You were forcing yourself not to cry. Instead of responding, he stepped towards you, put your head in his hands, and kissed you.

It was slow and nice, soft but still firm. You were standing there in shock for a few seconds. You had never really felt love for Peter, but as he kissed you you could feel yourself fall in love with him. It didn’t take you long to relax and start kissing him back, hands moving to his waist to pull him even closer. You had both totally forgotten that every single avenger was standing right there. When you both finally pulled back, staring at each other for what seemed like eternity. His eyes were so chocolaty brown. How had you never noticed that? He gave out a little nervous laugh, surprised you had kissed him back. The moment ended when Bruce cleared his through to draw to your attention that everyone was staring at you. You glanced to them, then Peter. Everyone was quiet for a few minutes. Even Tony had no snarky or sarcastic comment to make. That’s a first.

“Um... hey, guys....” Peter stutters out. It just makes the tension in the room grow.

“Please tell me the rest of you guys just say Peter & y/n kiss.” Nat said.

You gave everyone a half smile and turned your head back to Peter.

“You should stay here.” He whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Maybe I will.” You said, smiling like an idiot.

“He’s their lobster!” Bruce whispered, just loud enough so you & Peter could hear.

You smiled at the reference he made.

And you didn’t contradict him.

--------

THIS IS LIVE FROM NEW YORK IT’S SATURDAY NIGHT!!!

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #throbruce #ironstrange #marvel #the avengers #sorry its not the best #but it makes me feel better #friends quotes

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louisapennyfeather2021 · 4 years

Text

Newsies/Swiped AU

Davey Jacobs as James Singer

Spot Conlon as Lance Black

Jack as Hannah

Racetrack Higgins as Rachel

Albert DaSilva as Weasley

Hotshot as Daniel

Les Jacobs as Ashlee Singer

Sarah as Leah Singer

Summary:

Davey and Spot are college roommates, both are in a computer coding class. Spot does his own thing and does what he needs to get through the year. Davey lives by a rule book, especially since Davey wanted to get into MIT instead of the college he's in at the moment. It's as simple as that.

One day Spot, along with his best friends Albert and Hotshot, approach Davey. They want his help creating an app. Not a dating app, but a hookup app. An app where you can get together with guys or girls, but it never lasts longer than that one hookup. Davey disagrees for a while before Spot finally offers to help pay for a ride to MIT if he'll help with the app. He also might do it because Spot "guarantees that every guy and girl will be on the app.

This really convinces Davey because he has a crush on an old friend from High School, the infamous not so infamous Jack Kelly. And he hopes that maybe he can work up the courage to talk to Jack again after a rough patch in high school.

So they set to work. Their coding teacher, Professor Denton, doesn't believe Spot for a second when he says that him, Hotshot, and Albert are working on an app as their project in their class. Davey made it clearly known that he has no interest in being known as the true creator of the app.

The app takes off great. Spot, Hotshot, and Albert are as happy as they can be. Hotshot hooks up with any girl who wants to. Albert, the openly Bisexual in the friendship group, hooks up with the boys and girls who want to. Spot, the closeted gay of the group, hooks up with girls. He originally wanted the app as a way to secretly meet people, boys, but his own paranoia kept him from disclosing that to Davey. This doesn't stop the jealousy when Albert continuously hooks up with a certain blond boy who's profile on the app only has a name of Racetrack.

Meanwhile, Davey manages to at least amend his friendship with Jack. Jack expresses how dumb and horrible he thinks the new dating app is and discloses to Davey that he can't understand why people would voluntarily do something that hurts them, referring to how some of his friends have had bad experiences with the app already.

The first semester of college goes by. Soon everyone's off for Christmas break. Spot, Hotshot, and Albert stay on campus and spend most of the break living their dream with the success of their app. Albert's just happy to have the slight fame and some of the attention, Spot's happy with the success, and Hotshot's thriving from the fame, but not in an arrogant egotistical way. He's just happy

Meanwhile, Davey's back home. He loves with his older sister and younger brother in an unreasonably lavish home, only there because of their parents who are hardly ever home. Davey has a few minor arguments with Les, mostly because of Les' behavior while Davey was away. Including taking and making Davey's room his "Home Office"

Davey spends Christmas dinner with his siblings and the FaceTime of their parents. After dinner, Davey learns of Sarah having created a profile on a new dating app. She goes out one night, hoping to meet someone and start a relationship after her last one left her torn apart. Davey begs Sarah's friend Katherine (also the girl who's had a crush on Sarah fro years) to help him and Les essentially spy on Sarah.

It's not until after seeing Sarah's heartbreak that Davey decides the app has to stop. So it does.

Davey shuts down the app and any others like it, forcing people to go back to regular dating apps. This sparks chaos back on campus. Spot, Albert, and Hotshot are all but hunted down for the "update", as this is what they pass it off as.

Davey returns to campus and avoids the boys, saying he's working on fixing the "bug". The boys finally corner him, although they are separated by a door. They try to get into Spot and Davey's shared dorm, which Spot lost his key for, and Davey manages to sneak out the window since they're on the ground floor.

Meanwhile, this conversation is happening outside.

Spot: "Dave, open the door!"

Hotshot: "Hang on, I got this." *Pulls out a lock pick*

Albert: "Hang on, where did you learn to do that?"

Hotshot: "My cell mate." *Even though he's never gotten anything beyond a singular detention in high school*

Albert: *completely confused and worried mouthing the words* his cellmate?!?!

They see Davey missing and they start searching for him.

Davey, however, has snuck over to Jack's fraternity house.

It's not Jack to answer the door though.

It's Racetrack

And Jojo

And Romeo

And Mush

And oh boy, Davey had never felt so scared in his life. A bunch of angry, college level boys who know he's friends with Spot Conlon. He begs them to hide him, give him a place to stay long enough for Spot and the others to stop looking for him.

It's not until Jack greets him with a smile and says he's not harmful that they let him in.

They ask Davey about Spot's app and tell him about their experiences. None of it sits well with Davey and he decides to make an app based off of the people who want relationships. So he makes a proposition to the Frat House. He'll help them make an app by their own rules. The rules of actually dating. All he asks is that they provide him a place to stay just for a few hours. None of them really believe him, but Jack convinces them that it's just a few hours.

Sometime later, Davey's back in his dorm room when the boys finally catch up to him. He tries to run out again, but he finally caves while forming a plan. You see, Sarah knows he can't sleep sometimes because of his habits. And he's basically guilted Spot into getting him some food whenever he's busy because he is the one who made the app, did all the coding and everything. Sarah got Davey some tea that helps him sleep.

And he asks for some, saying it'll help him calm down. In the process, Albert and Hotshot ask for some. They're stressed because the app is down, what's wrong with a little bit of calming tea, right???

Davey never drinks the tea, but Spot, Albert, and Hotshot do. Davey notices them asleep and he quickly packs up his computer and makes an escape. But he didn't realize that Hotshot woke up right as he escaped.

And so began the chase for Davey Jacobs.

It was definitely one for the books.

Davey ran straight to the Frat house. It was Jojo who opened the door. He almost didn't let Davey in until Jack told him to. Davey convinced the boys to let him stay in a spare bedroom.

But Spot was smart, he knew where Davey would go. He figured out Davey's crush on Jack. So that's where they went.

And oh boy, were those three boys in for a rock ride.

It started with knocking on the door. Aggressive, desperate knocking.

Next came the boys. It was Jack first with Race there to back him up. The three boys though tried really hard at begging to get in.

And then came down the fury of the Fraternity.

I'm talking baseball bats, candle holders, someone's jock strap. Everything. They all but surrounded the three boys looking for Davey while Davey simply worked in the guest bedroom upstairs.

To put it simply, those three boys wouldn't even consider showing their faces around that Fraternity house for a long time.

Eventually, Davey came clean to the Fraternity. He said he helped create the hook up app, but that he was also the one to shut it down. And he helped design a genuine dating app that made it known that people wanted more than meaningless sex.

Bonus?

Jack was the one to ask Davey out. Davey was a nervous anxious wreck, but he said yes. Jack couldn't help but laugh a little bit as Davey stuttered a yes. He thought it was adorable.

Davey managed to help Spot realize what he wanted. The two apologised, along with Albert and Hotshot. They realized the cruelty of their app. And Spot came out to his friends.

Hotshot owed Albert five dollars for that one. Spot was slightly offended, but he couldn't be for too long.

Especially since he asked Albert if Race was anything more than hook up. Albert said that Race probably wouldn't even consider being friends and he told Spot to go for it.

With some encouragement from Les and Davey, Katherine finally asked our Sarah. It was so embarrassingly awkward that both boys wanted to erase the memory.

So sort of happy ending.

So that left Albert and Hotshot.

The conversation went something like this:

Albert: "So, everyone we know wants a relationship."

Hotshot: "And?"

Albert: "Wanna go on a date?"

Hotshot: "Dude, no, we've had this discussion."

Hotshot: "But like, pizza sounds great right now."

This is kind of plotless but so was the movie😂

#javid #sprace #ralbert #newsies memes #newsies imagines #newsies broadway #newsies imagine #davey imagine #davey jacobs #jack imagine #jack kelly #spot conlon #spot imagine

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demiromantic-official · 4 years

Text

Carnival of Aros July 2020

I haven’t participated in one of these before, but since music is quite important to me, I decided that this one I would write about.

My View as a Consumer

Now I feel that I’m bit different than most arospecs, especially in my relationship to music. I don’t have a problem with songs about love, though I do dislike most of those sappy, cliché ones like those played on the pop stations. However as a musician, lyrics are not the only things I think of when deciding whether I like a song, which also may make my view a bit different than others.

Mostly I listen to new wave / post punk from the ‘80s, and those songs reflected the depressing and tumultuous emotions of the era. They explored themes like depression, hopelessness, fascism, the Cold War, threat of nuclear destruction, longing, disconnect, stardom, politics, WWII, addiction, war, humans relationship with technology, religious guilt, commercialism, and many others that are clearly not love but which also doesn’t have a clear meaning to me. Or maybe they weren’t meant to have a meaning, like the songwriters of New Order claim about their songs.

When it does come to the love songs, I don’t feel the revulsion or disconnect that many arospecs seem to feel. I do dislike many of the vapid meaningless ones that are found on the pop stations (like Ed Sheeran etc), but most of the ones I listen to, I’m not sure if I would call them love songs. Maybe I’m being naïve, but even though I know the songwriter was thinking about someone they loved when writing it, the lyrics that have a deeper meaning than “i saw this hot girl and i wish we would date”, and are therefore interesting to me. Rather the feelings are described in such a way that it could be about a close friend, or someone that means a lot, without even stretching. They seem more about the human experience and interconnectedness, rather than purely romance. Even though I don’t experience romantic attraction, I like songs that delve deep into the human experience, about longing and fear and death and brokenness and other profound emotions. There’s a reason that era of music was sometimes described as “the new romantic”. Take “Lovesong” by the Cure for example.

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am home again

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am whole again

Now it’s no secret that Robert Smith wrote it about his wife whom he had been with for years, but I also think it describes something about the human experience that most people can relate to: being a broken and hurt person, but having people in your life that make you feel safe, make you not think so much about your brokenness. And that’s part of my aromantic experience, I think. That I don’t listen to songs with a “love filter”, but rather I think about what the song says about the human experience, about the deeper emotions that most people are afraid to talk about. It’s the same with his song “Disintegration”. Even though the song alludes to being about losing a partner, it’s much more than that. It’s (according to interviews, but also my own interpretation) about depression and drug addiction and having such a bleak view on life that you don’t see the possibility of being whole again. The poetry in it is stunning. I’ve never heard a song that better describes what it feels like to go through a trauma and to be in so much pain that you don’t know you can survive much longer, or that in his words:

through the eye of a needle,

it’s easier for me to get closer to heaven than ever be whole again.

I guess what I’ve been trying to describe is that as an arospec person, I don’t seek out traditional love songs, but I like the kinds that mention love, that maybe have love as a theme, but which aren’t entirely about it, those which have much deeper themes that describe other aspects of the human experience that maybe most people are afraid to touch on. I’ve related a lot of such songs, or songs about a failing relationship / losing a lover that do not explicitly mention it being about a partner, to being about other situations in my own life, such as losing a friend. Or platonic love, in general.

I don’t think there are any songs I’ve related to being aromantic in particular; I’ve had an easier time relating songs to asexuality (like some Smiths songs, such as Pretty Girls Make Graves, can relate to asexuality since Morrissey viewed himself as such). Nevertheless, I still feel that music has been able to describe my range of experiences, and I’ve never felt excluded or underrepresented.

If one wanted to be coy, though, I could name the song “Shot by Both Sides” by Magazine as one to which I could add an aromantic meaning. It’s meant to be about having a political view that leaves one “shot by both sides”, which one can say a lot about even today, when the loudest voices are extremists and having a nuanced opinion leaves many people hated by both majorities, but I won’t go into that on this blog. However sometimes it sadly feel like the aro experience...Straight people don’t accept us because we aren’t straight enough, because we’re cold people who don’t know love (in their eyes). And LGBT+ people don’t like us because we can “pass” as straight. I know not all people feel this and outside of the occasional hateful ask and mutual making a “aro and aces don’t belong in the community post” “haha all these asks trying to convince me otherwise are funny you’re not gonna convince me”, I’ve not experienced anything like this firsthand. But the sentiment is there.

My View as a Songwriter

When I write songs, I try to keep this same energy of the earlier songs I mentioned. That is, if the song is about a person or being hurt by a person, I try to make it in such a way that multiple interpretations are valid. It could be about a friend, or it could be someone else. I focus on the feelings, or even on topics that are not about interhuman connections.

I don’t necessarily think that songwriters should be expected to be inclusive of the community, like the promptings asked. Unlike movies/shows, songs can be highly personal and typically express some emotion, experience, social commentary, or opinion that the person has, and I feel there’s an extent to which you can tell someone how to make their art (not giving spotlight to people who sing about rape/pedophilia/racism in a way that’s not satire and not social commentary or a demand for change is one exception I stand by 100%). With movies and books it’s different, because then you’re telling a story and fantasy or not, stories should contain myriads of experiences because they are almost always a reflection of the outer world in at least a small way.

I think it’s a lot easier to be inclusive of the trans or gay community, by changing lines slightly to be vague about the genders of the people involved, which is something Pete Shelley from the Buzzcocks did to make his music accessible for people no matter their gender or what gender they liked. And it can be done without changing the meaning.

That being said, as an artist I can recommend the following actions:

Reach out to your favorite artists! I know a lot might not answer especially if they are well-known, and fan mail doesn’t seem to be a thing anymore, but it’s a good try. Bringing up the Smiths again, I remember an interview talking about Hand in Glove (one of their many songs that have a reference to homosexuality), in which songwriters Morrissey and Johnny basically talked about being inclusive with the song. Even when they were playing cover songs, they didn’t have a problem playing a song but a girl pop group about wanting a boy. Based on his bio, I know Johnny is likely not LGBT, but is a wonderful ally. I say this to point out that if you show how important being included is, the artist may just do something similar.

Maybe try different out artists/genres? This doesn’t solve the problem of being included, but I see a lot of arospecs claim most music is about romantic love...and as someone who sees themselves as well-versed in music...it’s really not? Maybe it’s because almost all my music is alternative and because I used to listen to a lot of punk which often is social commentary and calls for change, but in my experience of listening I’ve heard a wide range of experiences and parts of humanity expressed, evening disregarding the songs that are ambiguous about whether they are about romantic love or other love. Even popular artists like Radiohead and Nirvana have many songs with different topics than love. Sure, the topic of love may be represented than any single other topic alone, but combined the other number of songs on other topics are great too.

Support aromantic artists (or artists who sing about topics you relate to). Artists need support to keep making music, so support the ones who include you. And who knows, maybe more aromantic artists will start singing about their experiences as support grows.

#carnival of aros

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ruoyeming · 4 years

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My Top Ten Anime, a chaotic list

This was so hecking difficult, I’m gonna have to do some ‘honourable mentions’ for ones I can’t bring myself to leave out. This list is based entirely on my personal feelings, not an objective assessment of what are logically the best anime. There also may be mild spoilers at points because I can’t control myself. Doing this in quarantine cause I looove ranting about things I like.

10) Attack On Titan

This was the first anime I ever watched, and it blew my mind a bit tbh. The music is iconic, and the animation is great as well. It might have been a bit harrowing for my first experience with anime, but I absolutely loved the story. It’s set in a world where titans (man eating giants) have driven the dregs of humanity to live within giant stone walls. There’s a group of humans trying to research titans, kill them, and protect humanity, and the main character decides to join them after a titan breaks through one of the walls and his mother is eaten. It’s one of those where you think you know everything and suddenly the world gets turned upside down by a new discovery. All the puzzle pieces start fitting together the longer you watch, and you find out that everything going on is much bigger than what it originally seemed (government conspiracy time lads). The plot twists are unpredictable (for me at least) and devastating, and the emotion this series evokes is awesome - you can FEEL the sheer desperation of the characters, their rage and despair as they fight again and again against a seemingly unending enemy. Despite almost every battle being a suicide mission and despite too many losses, the characters keep going out of the human need to survive and protect.

10/10 for brutality and gore, but also theme of hope.

9) Naruto

A founding father of anime. Surprisingly not one of the first I watched, in fact it took me a few years to start. It’s set in a feudal Japan where ninjas are the defenders and servers of the people, and different villages have different ninja styles. Naruto is a young boy with a dangerous spirit sealed inside him which has caused him to be shunned by society (even though it’s not his fault??), and he wants to become a ninja. First off I’m a sucker for the Naruto archetype: dumbass, cocky, obnoxious, but kind and loyal too. Years of solitude and ostracisation as a child mean that Naruto desperately wants people to acknowledge him, and he intends to become the Hokage to prove himself. There’s a huge range of characters and villains, all with cool ninjutsus and different philosophies. Friendship, power, and determination are some of the main themes and it makes me so proud to see my son *COUGH* Naruto progressing and learning from his mistakes. It IS a long boi though and I haven’t even finished Shippuden yet, but I think Naruto captures the essence of shounen anime and is a great underdog story. Manga is lit too.

10/10 for cool battles and great characters.

8) Psycho Pass

One of the earlier anime I watched, and it became an instant favourite for the way it makes you question morality. It’s set in a kinda dystopian future Japan, where a technology called the Sibyl System checks people’s mental state and determines their ‘crime coefficient’ - how likely they are to commit a crime. The main character is a young woman who joins the police and begins to realise that blindly following this system is perhaps not the best way to go about things. For example, they have special guns that automatically kill people whose crime coefficients are over a certain level, but she soon proves that you can easily lower someone’s coefficient by talking them down and negotiating instead of killing them off immediately. It’s got great drama, great government conspiracy, compelling villains, and some really badass characters. It pushes the question of what is right or wrong, and how far technology should go when it comes to justice.

10/10 for sociological debate and horror elements.

7) One Punch Man

OPM is an anime that stands out for me, partially for mocking the tropes of battle anime, and partially for the uniqueness of the main character’s predicament. It’s set in Japan where heroes and villains exist, and the protagonist is a man called Saitama who gained superstrength after doing 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a 10K run every day. However he’s become so strong that he can defeat every enemy with a single punch. Nothing is a challenge for him anymore so he becomes depressed and unfulfilled; he’s still a good man who helps people, but he feels he’s missing something from his life. A cyborg called Genos makes Saitama his master, determined to learn his ways and they become friends. It’s one of the first anime that made me laugh out loud; it’s funny and entertaining, but also shows us that power is not equal to happiness.

10/10 for moral lessons and good jokes.

6) Tanaka-kun is Always Listless

The only slice of life anime on this list and not very well known, however it has a special place in my heart. The main character Tanaka is a boy who dozes off constantly and acts exhausted when awake; he loves expending as little energy as possible. His best friend Ohta looks out for him and essentially makes sure he doesn’t get lost/ be late/die on a daily basis, including carrying him when he just falls asleep sometimes. Although Tanaka seems uncaring, it’s shown that friendship isn’t a bother to him, and he realises that he actually relies on his friends despite saying he likes being left in peace. His friends all have great personalities, my personal faves are a tough gangster girl who’s rude to everyone EXCEPT her adorable loli girlfriend, and a popular girl who’s trying too hard to fit in and starts to become more herself after befriending Tanaka. All the characters share one brain cell, and it’s genuinely a funny anime - I’ve burst out laughing watching it a few times. Also Tanaka and Ohta are extremely shippable if you want to go down that route; it’s said several times in the series that they’re like an old married couple.

10/10 for wholesomeness and comedy.

5) Ouran High School Host Club

Another lighthearted show, probably the anime that’s made me laugh the most out of any. It’s set at an academy for rich-as-heck kids, and there’s a ‘Host Club’ where all the girls go to drink tea with a group of handsome boys. There’s the cunning Kyouka, prankster identical twins Hikaru and Kaoru, stoic Mori, adorable Honey, and princely but obnoxious Tamaki. Haruhi, a working-class scholarship student who is mistaken for a boy, accidentally breaks a precious vase and is forced by the host club to join them to pay off her debt. The group of boys realise fairly quickly that haruhi is a girl, but she becomes a popular host amongst the girls (LOVE the secret lesbian vibes) so they keep up the charade. I think I have a weakness for groups that share one brain cell because aside from Kyouka, they’re all idiots. I also love how flexible the show is with ideas of gender and sexuality despite being a slightly older anime. The daily antics of the host club combined with their personalities is a recipe for comedy, and they’re all lovable in their own ways.

10/10 for characters, drama, and comedy; it’s well-paced too.

4) Bungou Stray Dogs

Set in an alternate modern Japan where some people have secret abilities that can be activated, this anime became an obsession when I first watched it. The cast of characters is amazing and the villains are awesome too. Atsushi is an orphan who discovers he can turn into a powerful tiger, and is hired by the Armed Detective Agency, a small organisation of powerful individuals who fight crime. NEED I SAY ANY MORE?? Many of the main characters share names with famous Japanese authors such as Osamu Dazai and Ryūnosuke Akutagawa which is really cool and something that might add to the story more if I had an understanding of Japanese literature. Anyways the main character Atsushi is kind of a wimp at first (understandably because the world of ability-users is actually terrifying), but he learns to stand up for himself and use his ability to save people. The show’s mixing of dark and comedic tones is perfect to me; one moment a character is off his head on mushrooms and the next Atsushi’s leg is brutally sliced off in a back alley fight (it regenerates later no worries). The plot is really cool and full of intrigue, and eventually you get the whole ‘Usually we’re sworn enemies but we’re forced to become allies in the face of a greater evil’ thing and it’s great! Turns out our main guy and our main bad guy are actually a pretty powerful and efficient team, hoho??

10/10 for supernatural detectives being super cool.

3) Yuri!!! on Ice

Y’all already know what’s going on. Ice skating, emotional breakthroughs, gay shit, HIT ME WITH IT. The story follows Yuri Katsuki, an insecure figure skater trying to regain his confidence, and his self-appointed coach Viktor Nikiforov. Viktor is enthusiastic in helping Yuri train, and Yuri has been a big fan of Viktor since his childhood *throws pillow across the room*. Yuri becomes determined to, quote, “surpass Viktor’s wildest imagination”, and they end up agreeing - through a series of convoluted events - to get married if Yuri wins gold at the olympics (I think it’s the olympics??). Either fuckin way this series has angst, humour, cuteness, and god DAMN did I get invested. When Yuri was doing his free skate my own heart was beating harder than it did when I finished a 10K. Love the vibes and also it’s the closest to full healthy gay representation that I’ve seen in anime for a while. Not much more I can say, but do I really need to say more???

10/10 for GAY and MY HEART

2) Kimetsu No Yaiba (Demon Slayer)

Ok this one’s kind of a cheat cause I’ve read the manga as well which is way ahead of the anime, but FUCC. It takes place in the Taisho Era in Japan (begins 1912), where Demons exist who eat people. Tanjiro Kamado’s family is killed by a demon one night and his sister Nezuko is turned into a demon - but it is soon discovered she’s different to other demons, and can restrain herself. Tanjiro joins the Demon Slayer Corps to try and track down a cure for his sister, while proving that demons are not inherently evil. I LOVE Tanjiro as a main character because he values kindness over everything else, not forgiving demons for their sins but recognising they are tormented creatures, trying to give them peace before they die. All demons were once human - a fact that only Tanjiro seems to remember when fighting them. He’s patient, gentle, and determined - hotheaded and brash sometimes, but he has this vibe that just makes people become his friend/respect him even if they don’t intend to. He befriends two other slayers - Inosuke, an absolutely feral Best Boy who was raised by wild boars, and Zenitsu, a cowardly but ultimately loyal guy. This trio works really well together and Tanjiro is a great protagonist. Don’t even get me STARTED on the music and animation. Impeccable. Kamado Tanjiro No Uta makes me cry every time I hear it, and the water/fire effects used to show the metaphorical way the swords move like the elements takes my breath away.

10/10 for morals, music and animation.

1) Mob Psycho 100

Where the fuck do I start here. This anime is so unique in its style, story, and characters that I think it will always be my favourite. It follows Shigeo Kageyama (nicknamed Mob cause that’s what they call extras and background characters in Japan), a plain boy with incredible psychic powers that explode when his emotions are too high. Over time he’s learned to suppress his emotions, causing him to become socially inept and emotionally withdrawn. His (fake) psychic ‘master’, Reigen, uses him to make money exorcising spirits, making Mob believe that it’s for ‘training’. Mob appears naive at times, but he is so simply kind to people that it makes my heart hurt. Unlike many of the egomaniac psychics that Mob comes across, he recognises that without powers, he is just an ordinary boy. Mob’s greatest power isn’t his OP psychic abilities, but his power to show people they can change, that he can change. He forgives (and eventually befriends) people who have tried to kill him. Redemption and empathy are big themes here and they’re done really well.

The other characters are so well rounded and are also given time to grow, including Reigen - at first he’s a seemingly manipulative sleazebag, but later you see that he is a genuinely good man who has taught Mob many lessons and helped him grow up. This is a core message - Mob’s ability to change is due to support from his friends, not purely his own desire - people need other people!

This is also one of the true rarities in anime where the second season is absolutely just as good (if not better!) than the first one. The music is unique to the show, the ops for both seasons get me litty, the animation is incredible, the jokes are great and although it’s not all about big-ass fights, when we do get a big-ass fight it’s so fucking cool. The fight sequences are beautifully animated and visually stunning. MP100 makes me laugh, cry like an actual baby, and want to become a better person. Idk I could literally write pages on it like the big nerd I am but that’s all I’ll do for now.

10/10 for literally everything.

HONOURABLE MENTIONS

Given : about a boy who joins a band which helps him work through his trauma. Lovely healthy gay representation and themes of healing.

Samurai Champloo : ragtag trio consisting of two samurai - one lowkey feral and does breakdancing, the other lofty and withdrawn - and a bold young girl. Themes of friendship and journeys. I simp for the lofty samurai.

Cowboy Bebop: jazzy music, bounty hunters in space, 90s anime WHAT MORE COULD U WANT. Yet another group of characters that share a single brain cell. Love it.

#anime review #anime recommendation

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thecourtneychronicles · 5 years

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“Courtney Act says she’s enjoying an endless “hot girl summer”. Which, for those not initiated into American rap memes, basically means she’s having a damn good time.

“I’m kind of lubed up and ready for Mardi Gras, so to speak,” she says. As Australia’s most famous drag queen, active since the turn of the century, Courtney helped lead the mainstreaming of queer culture in this country along with figures such as Carlotta and Bob Downe.

But being a leader or pioneer doesn’t guarantee being comfortable in your own skin. Courtney says that until recently her understanding of sexuality and gender was actually quite limited. When she was performing, she was a woman, but when she stripped off her make-up, she went back to being Shane Jenek, a man.

“Although I did drag, my masculinity and femininity were compartmentalised in the binary,” Courtney says.

But over the past few years, as public discussion of gender, sexuality and identity has grown, she has discovered things are more complex than your genitals, clothes and hair.

“I think sometimes people think identity has something to do with the wrapping, but really it’s the gift underneath,” she says. “It’s about how you feel. For me, I definitely feel like I occupy masculine and feminine qualities.”

Courtney explores this journey in her pop-cabaret show, Fluid, showing this week at the Eternity Playhouse in Darlinghurst as part of the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras festival. It’s a change of pace for her after focusing on television in recent years; first by winning Britain’s Celebrity Big Brother in 2018, then as the runner-up (with Joshua Keefe) on last year’s Australian Dancing with the Stars.

It’s also a far cry from her humble beginnings in the DIY world of drag, which has never been regarded as high art but remains a staple of gay bars and culture worldwide.

“There’s a lot less hot glue and sticky tape in this show, which makes it feel a lot more professional,” Courtney says of Fluid. “I don’t know if that will hold until opening night.”

Set to original music, Fluid was written by Shane and American comedian Brad Loekle. For the most part it’s a one-woman show, with some help from a ballroom dancer in the second half. (“It’d be weird doing a ballroom dance by yourself,” she says.)

The show acknowledges that, more than ever, people are being flooded with “ever-changing and flowing ideas of who we are, what we are and what we might become”.

This is something we should embrace, says Courtney. “We change our clothes every day – we change our hairstyles, we change our jobs. Everything is constantly in motion and constantly fluid. But we have this idea that our identities are fixed. When we look at our lives they’re actually a lot more fluid than we think.”

Courtney, or Shane, doesn’t identify as trans but has said that seeing more transgender people represented in the media was liberating and allowed her to explore her own doubts about gender. She’s previously been described as “gender fluid, pansexual and polyamorous”, although she no longer embraces those labels as she once did.

“They all work,” says Courtney, who prefers to identify as “just generally queer” these days. “It’s funny … so many of our groups identify so strongly with labels and they’re so important to us. I kind of feel less attached to those labels.”

She also understands why some people might feel confused, or even confronted, by the politics of queer identification. The acronym LGBTQIA+, which stands for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, intersex, asexual and others, has expanded over the years to the point that some critics deride it as “alphabet soup”. Even those who are part of the community can be intolerant.

“I get that LGBTIQA+ is a little cumbersome from a marketing standpoint,” says Courtney. “But if you find yourself with the time to complain and be confused by a few extra letters, then you’re one of the lucky ones. If there are people that get to understand themselves more because of a letter in an acronym, I’m all for it.”

“I definitely feel like I occupy masculine and feminine qualities.”

Courtney casts a sceptical eye over everything, including the rise of cancel culture, a predominantly left-wing phenomenon which argues that anyone who says or does something deemed to be racist, sexist, homophobic or in any way offensive should be called out, shamed and, preferably, silenced.

Lamenting the state of political discourse while appearing on the ABC’s Matter of Fact program last year, she said: “The volume’s too loud now and everybody’s yelling.” While history showed that people sometimes need to raise their voices, “when you actually sit down opposite someone and have a conversation with them, you get so much further”.

How, then, does Courtney view the debate over religious freedom that has raged ever since Australians voted to legalise same-sex marriage in 2017? She says it’s clear that sometimes people, especially older white males, perceive other people gaining rights as a threat to their own. She says religion can be a lost cause because it is, by definition, about faith rather than rational argument. Still, queer people have to make the effort to engage.

“The way to do that is to get people to picture themselves in other people’s experiences. That’s the only way you can foster that empathy.

“Rather than yelling aggressively back at the people trying to oppress us, I think the most important thing to do is to share our stories.”

Another thing you can do, of course, is march. This weekend, Mardi Gras culminates in the annual parade up Oxford Street, which will feature more than 200 floats and 10,000 marchers. For the first time, Courtney will co-host the coverage on SBS with comedians Joel Creasey and Zoe Coombs Marr, and Studio 10 presenter Narelda Jacobs.

She had something of a practice run hosting the coverage on Foxtel some years ago. “I saw a clip of it the other day,” she says. “And I’m definitely hoping to redeem myself.”

As a character, Courtney has been on the gay scene for about 20 years. The person behind the facade, Shane, turned 38 last week. He grew up in Brisbane and remembers watching the parade on television as a teenager in the 1990s, huddled up close to the TV so he could quickly switch it off if his parents came downstairs.

Shane came to Sydney when he was 18 and attended his first Mardi Gras. “I just remember it was such a melting pot of people,” he says. “It was the first time I really understood what a community was: that there were all these different parts, and we all faced different challenges and struggles.”

But even then, Shane says he failed to really comprehend about what Mardi Gras was all about. Just like many heterosexual critics over the years, as a young man he gawked at the giant dancing penises, fetish-wear and nudity and wondered: why?

“I remember thinking: why can’t they just be normal?” Shane says. “Have your parade, but why does it have to be about sex and penises? Because I had shame about all of those things. I realise now that the parade’s brash display of sexuality liberates the shame … it’s a really radical way to shake people and say there’s nothing wrong with sexuality – not just homosexuality but sexuality in general.”

The queer community has given Shane a lot: acceptance, identity, a career and fame. It has taken him to Los Angeles, where he was based for some years until 2018, and now to his new home in London.

Love, on the other hand, remains elusive. He is “on the rebound” at the moment, though eternally optimistic. “It’s Mardi Gras time, it’s summer in Sydney, I think this is the perfect time to be single. Maybe I’ll find love under a disco ball at the after-party.”

Incredibly, at 38, Shane is about to attend his first ever wedding, straight or gay – his friend Tim is marrying his partner Ben. It is set to be a baptism of fire. “They have asked my ex-boyfriend and me to give the best man’s speech together, which could be slightly sadistic,” he says.

Shane is still adjusting to the relatively new world of same-sex marriage. It’s not for everyone – many queers still think of it as a conservative and unnecessary institution – but it’s growing on him. “Weirdly, seeing all these people get married, I feel like my cold heart has melted a bit,” he says. “I think there’s something really beautiful about marriage.”

It’s a reminder of why events like the Mardi Gras are still so important – a celebration of diversity at the same time as the old divisions between straight and gay are knocked down. As well as marriage, this can manifest in small shifts, like the politics of Bondi Beach.

“I was at North Bondi on Saturday [and] it was surprisingly unlike North Bondi,” Shane says. “It was all families and those banana umbrella things. I was like, ‘Oh, I remember when this used to be [gay nightclub] ARQ, but with more light.’"

“I guess that’s the progress we fought for – the families are happy occupying the gay beaches now.”

Fashion director Penny McCarthy. Photographer Steven Chee. Hair Benjamin Moir at Wigs By Vanity.

SBS’s Mardi Gras broadcast airs live from 7.30pm on February 29. Fluid will return for a tour of Australia and NZ in spring.

This article appears in Sunday Life magazine within the Sun-Herald and the Sunday Age on sale February 23.”

Courtney’s interview for The Sydney Morning Herald - February 21, 2020

#ca interview #21.02.20 #courtney act #sydney mardi gras

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yearsblog · 6 years

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“I’m glad you noticed!” says Olly Alexander with one of his impish smiles. “I’ve come a long way since then.” We’re talking about the difference between the first time I saw him sing with his band, Years & Years, and the strutting peacock that he has since become. In 2015, fresh from winning the BBC Sound Of . . . poll, Alexander had a mean falsetto and a clutch of killer synth-pop ditties (Shine, King), but he cut a diffident figure during his show at the Heaven nightclub, dressed down in a T-shirt and beanie.

The second time I saw him, a year later, he was rising on a hydraulic lift through the stage of a rapturous Wembley Arena, wearing a red tunic with silver shoulder pads, and garlanded with laser beams. Alexander’s ascent to serious, tabloid-baiting stardom continues. Years & Years have a dazzling album out this week and days before we meet he was on Graham Norton’s sofa, regaling Cate Blanchett and Sandra Bullock with the story of how Meteorite, the song he wrote for Bridget Jones’s Baby, was about “a big dick”. Diffident no longer.

“Looking back, it’s quite overwhelming,” says Alexander, 27, as he lunches on quinoa in a restaurant in King’s Cross, north London. He is slight and conspiratorial, with tiny safety pins through his ears, a ring through his nose and his cropped hair dyed scarlet. “At first you really don’t know what support from an audience is going to feel like. But when people started showing their support for me being honest and being a camp, gay frontman — I just never really expected it and it added so much fuel to my fire.”

Among the things he has eloquently spoken out on are LGBTQ rights (he presented a BBC Three documentary called Growing Up Gay), mental health (he extols the virtues of therapy, which he started pre-emptively, before he became famous) and bullying (at school in Gloucestershire he was regularly “bushed”: thrown into the bushes next to the assembly hall). He is far more vocal than he was at the start of his music career, when an industry person advised him not to talk about being gay. “She was, like, ‘Why do people need to know your sexuality?’ She wanted to protect me.”

Well, it turned out that he didn’t need protection, he needed confidence. That came with experience and a changing musical landscape in which artists as diverse as Janelle Monáe, Christine and the Queens, Frank Ocean and Perfume Genius felt able to be candid about their sexuality. “It’s quite astonishing,” Alexander says. “We’re seeing a lot more visible queer artists and visible gay people.”

Pop has been missing male stars with strong views, especially those with a sense of theatre; it’s all uber-polite George Ezra or anti-glamorous Ed Sheeran. “It has its place, having someone who’s not dressed up,” Alexander says, trying to be diplomatic. “But the thing I love most about pop music is the fantasy, the escapism. I had this moment when I realised I’m in the best place to engineer that for myself. I realised you could go as far as you want on stage.”

A few weeks ago at Radio 1’s Biggest Weekend in Swansea he wore a lime-green Freddie Mercury leotard and led an onstage conga of his dancers, who seemed to be styled as drugged-up zombies. It felt like a long way from Mike Read and Bruno Brookes. “There was a point where I realised if you embody supreme confidence, you can get away with anything,” Alexander says. “It is quite a religious experience for me, to be on stage.”

Religion is a bit of a theme for Years & Years, whose other members are the keyboard player Emre Türkmen and the bassist Mikey Goldsworthy. Their first album was called Communion and their new one is entitled Palo Santo, after a mystical South American tree burnt as incense. Its literal translation, “holy wood”, joins the dots between spiritualism and smut (“It’s a Carry On album!” Alexander says with a giggle). So too does the recent single, Sanctify, partly inspired by a relationship with a straight-acting man, which refers to two very different things that one can do on one’s knees. “See?” Alexander says, turning to his publicist, who is sitting near by. “Ed gets it!”

He has always been into spiritualism and the occult, he says, albeit in a slightly sceptical way. “The first place I ever had a job was in this shop called Moonstones — it sold gemstones, pagan spellbooks and chocolate dildos.” He grew up loving fairytales and fantasy fiction: Lord of the Rings, The Magic Faraway Tree, Harry Potter. You can see why he might have wanted to escape to other worlds, such was the rotten time he sometimes had at school, where he was mocked and sometimes “bushed” for wearing eyeliner, nail varnish and choker necklaces.

Has being a posterboy for LGBTQ and anti-bullying issues become a burden? He gets Instagram messages from fans every day. “It doesn’t feel like a burden. I think it would be more of a burden to not acknowledge any of that. But I’ve had to learn the ways to cope with my own mental health along the way, and I feel like I’m in a good position now, but if you’re having a bad day and you’re suddenly having to talk about things that you experienced when you were 13 years old, it can feel a bit challenging.”

He’s talking about the break-up of his mother, who ran community craft groups, from his father, who worked at amusement parks, but, tellingly, dreamt of being a musician. After the split Alexander moved to Gloucestershire with his mother and brother; his father has only been in contact sporadically. Alexander has sometimes shied away from the subject because “I was trying to protect him, and I was, like, ‘Why am I still trying to protect someone who hasn’t been in my life for over a decade and who’s actually very difficult and caused a lot of pain to my family?’ ”

They hadn’t been in touch for seven years when his father broke the silence in wincing fashion, by tweeting him. Matters got worse when Alexander’s fans started replying to his dad, even trolling him. It sounds horrific. He has seen him once since then, last year. “It was quite triggering,” he says. “I just couldn’t deal with it at the time, it was too overwhelming.”

Social media can be a perilous place for him, especially deciding what to keep private. “I’ve always been fairly ‘Here’s everything!’ ” He’s also prone to “stalking someone that I fancy, and then getting upset because they like so-and-so’s picture and not mine”.

Yet the lure of Instagram can be irresistible. Take his appearance on The Graham Norton Show, when he met Rihanna, one of his heroes, and posted a picture of them backstage, in which he wears an expression of volcanic ecstasy. He was more nervous about meeting Ri-Ri than he was about singing on the show, he says, but she was lovely. “She was, like, ‘My fans love you.’ I feel like we’re destined to be friends.”

Or, perhaps, rivals. Palo Santo, with its mega-hooks, shimmering melodies and sumptuous production, is an album built to take on the superstar Americans at their own game. It was inspired by the R&B and pop that Alexander grew up on: Timberland, Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake and, before them, Prince and Michael Jackson.

He’s a better fit for music than he was for his first, slightly accidental career as an actor. “It just feels like people can express their identity easier as artists in the music industry.” Still, acting was where he initially made his mark, straight out of school, first in the film Summerhill and later playing a Bullingdon-style posho in The Riot Club, Herbert Pocket in David Nicholls’s TV adaptation of Great Expectations, and a stage role in Michael Grandage’s Peter and Alice, during which he befriended Judi Dench.

He was quite intimidated, but Dench turned out to be “very cheeky. One day she brought in biscuits that had dicks and balls on them; she was, like, ‘Do you want a cock biscuit?’ ” She has since narrated a short film to accompany Years & Years’s new album.

Acting has some happy associations for him, then, but “Hollywood is the worst culprit” when it comes to diversity, he says. “It’s just so far behind the times, it’s disgusting.” He even felt a subtle pressure not to reveal his sexuality on God Help the Girl, a low-budget British indie film directed by Stuart Murdoch of the band Belle & Sebastian, in which Alexander played a straight musician.

“It gave me a lot of anxiety. It was one of the reasons I wanted to stop acting. I definitely felt at the time it was something you had to be quiet about, because otherwise directors wouldn’t believe you could pull off the part.” That was nothing to do with Murdoch, he stresses. “I got on with Stuart really well, and I felt guilty because I never told him I was gay. I kind of tried to play up to the fact that I could actually be straight still, based on lies, even though everyone else knew I was gay.” During the shoot he met a man in a club. “After filming every day I’d just go straight to his house and spend the night with him. You just feel like you’re living a bit of a double life.”

I tell him my editor will tell me off if I don’t ask about his romantic status. “I’m single,” he replies with a smile. “Let everyone know, including your editor! Is he gay? It’s a she? Maybe she has gay friends. Yeah, I am happily single. It’s been like . . . almost two years. Not that I’ve been a nun in that time, I would like to stress.” Celebrity is double-sided in that regard: adulation on one hand, lack of anonymity on the other. “It obviously has positives,” he says with a smile, “but my sex life’s taken quite a beating.”

Don’t buy the mock self-pity — Alexander is doing just fine. There’s the stellar album and an arena tour in the autumn. Nor have his experiences put him off acting. “I feel like I could do something really, really fun and weird, like play an alien,” he says. “Or, you know, a goblin king!” From dressed-down diffidence to a budding Bowie in three years: he really has come a long way.

Palo Santo is released tomorrow on Polydor. Years & Years play the Roundhouse, London, July 10; Manchester Arena, July 14 and tour the UK from November

#olly alexander #article #the times #interview

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bemouldenblog · 6 years

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Labels: Revisited...4 Years Later

Have you ever looked at the “On This Day/Memories” section of Facebook, scrolled through and thought, “Dear gawd! What the hell was I thinking?”

You don’t have to lie. You don’t even have to admit it to me. I know you have. I even know that I’m not the first person to ask you that question. I just want you to it admit it to yourself. I sure as hell know I have. It happens more than I’d like it to, but that is Facebook for you. (Who’s even just gone ahead and deleted the egregious regrettables? Ok I’m done…)

You do, however, stumble upon those posts every now and then that make you step back and say, “Wow…this is a part of my journey? I forgot about that. Yaaasss!” I stumbled upon one of those recently: the customary social media “coming-out” post. (This is not mandatory. Your journey is your journey. My hope is that you do eventually live your truth...but in your own time of course. No pressure.)

As of late, I’ve charged myself to delve more into the autobiographical artistic explorations of young black queer creatives. (ie. Janelle Monae’s Dirty Computer and Darnell L. Moore’s No Ashes in the Fire: Coming of Age Black and Free In America. PLEASE support and submerge yourself in these phenomenal yet underexposed creations. A-MA-ZING!) I feel great pride and gratitude seeing myself reflected so clearly in the work and lives of other young black queer people who are absolutely killing the game. This shows me, yet again, the importance and undeniable necessity of representation, not only for the next generations but also for peers. Experiencing works of art that reflect a desire to be free, to be comfortable with self, to love and be loved, to have community is reaffirming my place in a community often overlooked and misunderstood. These works of art are reminders that no one person should have to suffer alone because of how they identify or experience freedom.

After coming out on Facebook, I remember one of my friends asking me why I had done so. Although it wasn’t aggressive, it did come across slightly confrontational and accusatory. It was as if the friend was asking “Why in the hell would you do that?!?” I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I recall my answer being very nonchalant as a way to hide the fact that I felt very put on the spot. If asked today, I definitely would say it was because I was tired of feeling invisible.

Seeing the words that my 23 year old self wrote as a declaration of liberation re-ignites the fire to do what I will always seek to do in anyway I can: to give a voice to the misunderstood, the ostracized, the oppressed…the underdog. So Facebook Memories are not always shameful.

Here is “Labels”:

One of my biggest fears/pet peeves is the idea of labels. That sounds pretty pathetic, I know. It really bothers me when people learn one thing about me then take it and run with it, making a judgment or simply assuming that they know me based on one detail. I think it’s lazy. I shouldn’t care, but I’m learning every day not to care as much as I did the day before. I try my best to avoid making these rash oversimplifications of other people’s identities. I take my time to figure out why a person is the way they are and to take them as they are in every moment (which also includes deciding if I want them in my space or not).

I remember watching that interview Raven Symone did with Oprah. You know the one where she says "I don't want to be labeled 'gay.' I want to be labeled 'a human who loves humans.'…I'm tired of being labeled.” Then she goes on to say "I'm an American. I'm not an African American; I'm an American." And we all collectively think the thought that has manifested on Oprah’s face, “You so damn dumb…”

Even as I sat in front of my screen, piqued and perplexed by her erasure of her blackness and queerness, I also remembered my own dislike of lazy labels. But then I had to ask myself: What is so bad about a label? Though labels have the power to separate, they also have the power to bring people together. This is evident both with those who are a part of the same groups as well as those a part of different ones. Some…damn...most labels themselves aren’t detrimental; however, the ignorant ideas that get attached to them are the detriments. So these harmful ideas associated with the labels have very little to do with the labelled but with the ignorance of the labelers.

Having said that, for quite some time I have felt as though I have not been my complete self out of fear of the ideas attached to certain labels with which identify. So here goes. For those of you who do not know (and for those of you who have been trying to guess and always had a feeling and wanted to ask but never did) I am indeed a gay man. BOOM! WHAAAATT? Crazy, right?

For what I would say 18 of my almost 24 years of life, I have felt pretty “different.” I remember when I was little I honestly didn’t see what the big deal about my differences were. I didn’t care! You can ask my family. I was a pretty unapologetic, lively, confident, and expressive child, but as one gets older, society begins to dictate what right and wrong, cool and uncool, acceptable and unacceptable, etc. You either conform or you rebel and be ostracized for it. I chose the former. I lost my magic, man! I became everything that everybody and they mama and papa wanted me to be, as I witnessed the persecution of the “rebels.” I’m also ashamed to say that sometimes I was a persecutor as well! When you are taught that “different” is a bad thing, you do what you can to avoid being the victim.

When you are in the early days of the masquerade, it’s easier to maintain, but you are never aware of how damaging it is until the growing pains set in. Feelings of depression, anxiety, loneliness, and hopeless became overwhelming. I was confronted with the idea that my repression may result in my demise. I had to take the time to unlearn and relearn and accept who I am. “Hindsight is always 20/20,” and I started to see and feel all the pain, not only of my own but of others as well. All the people with sad faces and heavy spirits who abandoned their own ideas of life, success, happiness, love, joy and peace for contrived forms just for the “luxury” of normality. All the people that tried to end it all. All the people whose lives were cut short. All the people who in someway succumbed to the pressures of society.

I recently had a very in depth conversation with my grandmother during which I told her that I was gay, and her response was “…well…I wish you would have told me earlier, my man…it would have saved you a lot of pain…” When she said this I found myself laughing through my tears. Somehow, her response was what I expected; it was also very true.

For some time, I would wrestle with the idea of living and speaking my truth. “Don’t do this, Brandon. The world already has a reason (albeit an ignorant one) to hate you.” (You guessed it: my blackness.) However, I should not care if the realities of my existence and identity causes anyone else to find reasons to hate me. I’d rather be hated for what I am than loved for who I’m not. The raging storm of distress and loneliness within me over the past two decades is far worse to endure than any hate that I will receive because of my identity. I am so grateful for the support system I have found in my family and true friends. Even when some needed time to process and adjust, the love and support was always there. Y’all make it so much easier to maneuver through the hateful and bigoted ideologies of this world. Believe that.

I just want to live my life and own my “labels”:

Black

Artist

Musician

Gifted

Son

Brother

Friend

Gay

The list goes on and creates my ultimate label, Me…Brandon. I’m cool with that. This list will grow and change as I continue to grow and define the man that I am. I hope my life is an example for those who have ever felt the same way I have no matter their background or “label”. With all that I do, I want to give a voice to the misunderstood, the ostracized, the oppressed…the underdog. That is my purpose. We are loved. We matter. We are excellent. Our differences should be embraced.

I’m open to questions, love, hate, prayers and “prayers”…and whatever else. But I know that I love you all and am excited to grow with you!

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missytearex · 6 years

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Monthly Favourites - July

Hi! So I’ve decided that I wanted to do a “what I read this month” post, however, I realized that list is just gonna be too fuhking long so...I’m gonna choose a favourite of each pairing from everything I’ve read this month!

Here we go!

Larry

Walk That Mile by purpledaisy | @daisyharry (149k)

Summary: Harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “I wanted to get the most out of this trip so I planned it carefully.” His voice is low and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “So far, you’ve put your sticky fingers on everything I’ve tried to do.”

“Sticky fingers?” Louis repeats, offended. “Are you saying it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? Had you been alone you would have gotten halfway to the Dotty Diner and ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.”

“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry spits before getting out of the car. He slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and Louis rolls his eyes. - A Route 66 AU where falling in love was never part of the plan.

My comment: Ok so I probs haven’t been in the fandom long enough to say for sure but THIS IS MY FAVE LARRY FIC EVER! The whole thing is just so well written and perfect. My attention span isn’t that great, so I usually have some trouble with fics this long, but not with this one. It’s just so easy to read. Road trip fics are the best tbh.

Lilo

I Only Come Alive Under the Moonlight by remivel | @remivel (54k)

Summary: Louis knew he hadn't seen action in months, but this was just the universe making fun of him, he was sure of it. Because when he woke up in the middle of the night, he discovered that his new dog was missing, and standing in its place was a very confused, very fit... and very naked man.

Or a romantic comedy with a furry twist. Liam turns into a dog at night, Louis tries to help him get back to normal-- and ends up falling in love somewhere along the way.

My comment: Guys! This one had me laughing out loud! I found it quite unpredictable and it was fun constantly wondering what would happen next. And the entire thing is just bizarre and SO CUTE! Also lilo writing songs together is my favourite thing ever.

Lirry

Even When We Fight by threeturn | @valencing (30k)

Summary: University AU. Liam's the star of the debating society until Harry shows up and steals the spotlight. Meanwhile, Niall's in love, Zayn lives while he's young, and Louis looks after his friends.

My comment: I’m kinda cheating with this one as I read it in June, but SO WHAT SUE ME. It was such a fun one to read! I thought the whole debate club thing would stress me out, but it’s so interesting to read about the whole process. It also features boys being unable to deal with their feelings, which I really love.

Narry

move your world a little closer by countthestars | @moondoggiestyle (45k)

Summary: In which Niall is a bit lost, Liam and Louis can't seem to get their shit together, and Harry is literally out of this world.

(aka: alien narry)

My comment: What’s not to love about alien!harry?? Such a quirky character and he fits it so well tbh. PLUS! side!lilo is what I live for!

Niam

If It Makes You Less Unhappy by cmdf (19k)

Summary: “Listen. You can do whatever you’d like, but you told me that you were going to be taking a year of your life living here— in Italy, right?” He looks into Liam’s eyes for confirmation, squeezing gently into his shoulder. “Right?”

Liam nods. He shivers at the realization that he’s going to be here for a year. His pilgrimage has only just begun. He hadn’t really thought about how much a year could change a person—perhaps even a week. He can already tell by the end of this conversation with Niall, change may come more quickly.

___________________________________

Or: Liam travels to Italy and gets more than he ever anticipated.

My comment: In my experience, niam is defs the hardest pairing to find good fics for. That being said, this one is absolutely wonderful! Liam’s character is so well done, I just wanna give him a hug!

Nouis

shooting stars and satellites by temerity (forsanethaec) | @whoatherepickle | @1dgaf (12k)

Summary: "Is that what it says it's like?" Louis points vaguely to Niall's phone. He doesn't want to say the name of the thing.

"It says, um." Niall's mouth twists as he tries to figure out the words. “When you're bonded with someone, you’re for each other, after that. You’re -- like, you and me – you’d be the person I’m happiest with, all the time. Who I.” His toes curl on the tiled deck of the pool between their chairs. “Who, you know. Who I end up with.”

"Niall," Louis says, and has no idea where to go from there.

My comment: I feel like everyone has a slight kink for soul bonding. I certainly do. I really lived myself into this one and empathized with everything they were feeling. I think I even got a headache at some point...but don’t mind me, I’m just being dramatic.

Zarry

Ready, Now by zarah5 (15k)

Summary: AU. Maybe Zayn shouldn’t have told Louis about his crush on the fit boy from the supermarket. Because the thing is, Louis likes to meddle.

My comment: Features one of my favourite things on the planet which is awkward!zayn!!! I really really love fun little lighthearted fics like these. Also really appreciated Louis’ unsubtle meddling.

Ziall

Not Forgetting Who I Was by slashter | @slashter (40k)

Summary: Niall wakes up in a world where he's brunet, tattooed, and not in One Direction. In fact, no one's in One Direction--it doesn't exist. Determined to find out what's going on and if any of the other boys are as confused as he is, he leaves whatever life he's built so far behind in Ireland and sets off for London, his mind set on reuniting the five of them and reclaiming their spot in music history, no matter what it takes.

But the boys don't know who he is. The boys don't know anything about their other lives. They've got jobs of their own and goals they've set, and not everyone is ready to drop it all to chase some wayward dream, regardless of how good it may sound.

So now, for Niall, doing the seemingly impossible's just become a lot more difficult.

[Or the one where Niall has to bring One Direction back together, even if it means breaking his own heart in the process]

My comment: Where do I even start?? I LOVE parallel universe fics and this one is SO GOOD! The whole group dynamic, brotherly love thing throughout the story is something I REALLY appreciate in a 1D fic. And the idea of Niall being the one to bring them all together is so sweet!

Ziam

Underneath by secretswekeepxx | @theficwritersblock (17k)

Summary: “And this is how fucking horror movies begin. I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere, taking a right onto ‘Payne Lane.” He mutters to himself as he flips his turn signal on and starts making his way slowly down the bumpy lane.

He’s surrounded on both sides by expansive, fenced fields with sparse trees, randomly placed sheds and lean-tos, and various breeds of livestock grazing about. The grass is long and rustles in waves with the dry, late August breeze. There’s a beauty to it, though Zayn’s momentarily unable to appreciate it because the further along he goes the stronger the urge to turn around becomes. It’s as the lane opens up and he can finally see a house materializing in front of him that he sees the sign for ‘Payne Farm’.

It's finally Zayn's last semester of graduate school, and the only thing standing in between him and his freedom is his thesis project. Deciding to live off campus for some peace away from the hustle and bustle of university life seems like a good idea in theory. That is until his best option is living on a farm that's owned by the very rude and boring Liam Payne.

Maybe this wasn't the best idea after all...

My comment: This one contains ~misunderstood!liam~ which, come on, that’s the BEST! I love the setting and Liam’s beautiful kind soul and Zayn realising he was wrong and it’s just...the best.

Zouis

we go together by aliferuined (7k)

Summary: T-Birds are forever. Very, very, very loosly based on Grease. It's basically a whole bunch of pining and quiffs.

My comment: I am an absolute SUCKER for friends to lovers. And this one is so cute! Liam not being allowed to wear the jacket, Louis’ pink car, Niall drooling over Demi...I could probably go on forever as I just love everything about this fic.

Tomlinshaw

loose lips sink ship all the damn time (not this time) by MediaWhore | @mediawhorefics (39k)

Summary: “Louis Tomlinson is gay,” Fiona announces and she sounds calm at least. “That’s not a scandal,” Nick replies automatically even though he feels slightly sick. He needs to call Louis back. Now. “No,” Fiona agrees quickly. “But his underage gay sex tape is.” The one where Louis is outed via a sex tape he made before the X-Factor and Nick can't resist flying to America to give him a shoulder to cry on. Told through flashbacks, this is a story of getting together and getting back together.

My comment: There’s something about Tomlinshaw that I absolutely adore. I can’t quite put it into words. Anyway, I really loved how quickly Nick dropped everything and got on a plane when Louis needed him. Such awww.

So that’s it for now! If you’re interested in keeping up with what I’m reading, I have a blog where I bookmark everything like the obsessive person I am ---> @niccihoranson

#monthly favourites #fic rec #larry #lilo #lirry #narry #niam #nouis #zarry #ziam #zouis #ziall #tomlinshaw #one direction #1d #mine #my recs #my lists

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transfemininomenon · 6 years

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hey alice I've seen you mention then before and they seem really interesting and I was wondering if you could tell us more about your dnd characters! (Whichever your favorite is or who you feel like talking about) or even a tag you have where I could read up more!

:O i would LOVE to talk about some of my dnd characters

my three main ones are my half-elf raven queen warlock gwyndolin (aka gwyn), my human swashbuckler rogue gertrude, and my life cleric alicia

gwyn was the character i played when @speechjam was DMing who is a half-moon elf with Parental Baggage (because what’s a half-elf who doesnt have an iffy relationship with their parents) who is very gay and very trans and canonically Really Hot because she has a literally goddess gifted body. her parents raised her in an elf city where she experienced a lifetime of racism for being a half-elf, and that combined with not having a great relationship with her parents as well as dealing with dysphoria eventually led to her attempting suicide. however when this happened, she suddenly found herself before the raven queen, who told her it was not yet her time, and offered her a deal - a new body and some of her power in exchange for making a pact with her. she readily agreed, and was reborn as gwyndolin

since then she’s spent a few years acting as a servant of the raven queen, acting as a sort of soul bounty hunter tracking down people who had unnaturally escaped death and dealing with necromancers/undead infestations. eventually she happened to take a job that led to her meeting the party, including happening to bump into her elf druid cousin solira played by @lyssatbqh

she’s also a total Disaster Lesbian and cant talk to women to save her life which is a problem when Lots of women want to talk to her on account of being Really Hot. she has a thing for knives and has like 8 of them on her. she also has a spirit familiar in the form of a raven named crawford who she always makes keep watch for her at night instead of doing it herself

THEN gertrude is the character i play in @lyssatbqh‘s campaign, which is a homebrew campaign set in the dark souls world. gertrude’s whole life was spent believing that humanity didnt matter and only existed to serve the gods - lessons instilled in her from birth by her parents. often being left alone while her parents were off doing whatever religious things they were off doing, she grew used to wondering the city of anor londo by herself, exploring every alley and climbing every roof top, having just a dagger given to her by her parents as a form of protection

as she grew older her parents tried getting her more involved in the way of white (the religious organization they were a part of), and gertrude never really quite got the whole “sit and study and pray” part of it, but she found ways to use her natural charisma and dexterity to instead serve the gods by acting as a spy against people who might speak out against the gods. this is how she met the party initially, being sent by one of the gods to spy on a book club founded by @speechjam‘s character brillin. long story short the party ended up encountering some of the witches of izalith, went to izalith right as the witch of izalith was trying to recreate the first flame, and they all fucking DIED

some long period of time later the party all mysteriously came back to life, and have since came back to life any time they have died, always returning to whatever fire they’d rested at. the whole experience of dying and coming back forced gertrude to, for the first time in her life, have to think about being a human and what humanity meant and what her place in the world was, and she proceeded to go into a several week long existential crisis. during this time the party investigated some mysterious happenings around the city of new londo involving other people coming back to life, fought some demons, and eventually made their way back to anor londo

the whole time gertrude was hoping returning to anor londo would get her some answers from the god she had been working for by the name of flame god flann. however, upon returning he offered no real help, and seemingly didnt even remember that she had worked for him. this furthered her growing crisis and fear and doubt, and eventually the party confronted her about her sneakiness and dodging questions, and she confessed the nature by which she’d originally joined the group, and asked for their forgiveness and explained that she’d suddenly had a Lot to think about and that a lot of things she thought she’d known had been thrown out the window. the party was initially hurt, especially brillin, and gertrude suddenly found herself for the first time Caring about other people and how her actions had effected them, but they eventually forgave her and they continued to all work together to maybe figure out a little more on what was happening

encountering two strange people known as skin man and skeleton man, the party worked with them and eventually learned that skin man also was coming back from the dead, but also seemed to be fading away more and more each time he came back - becoming less of himself and more just a blank husk. eventually skin man went missing, and the party found him by a mysterious machine that could answer questions for them - in exchange for memories

gertrude used it to ask two questions, choosing first between the memories of her time working for flann, her time with the way of white, and her memories of brillin, who she had grown increasingly close with throughout their travels (because gertrude is a Fool and JUST kept jokingly flirting until she fooled around and caught real feelings), eventually choosing the way of white. she then had the option of flann, brillin, or her forgetting the memories and associations that her daggers had with her, eventually choosing daggers

her questions were if the gods cared about her, about people, and then the second was if she, too, was gonna steadily fade away the more she died. she received a simple answer for both - no, and yes

initially going into another crisis, she soon shock that feeling off and decided on a new course of action, a flame suddenly lighting in her as she realized that she couldn’t rely on the gods anymore, and that it was people, and her new found friends, that she had to rely on. the gods were seemingly uncaring about their current plight, and she would find answers on her own. no longer being shackled by the gods, she would suddenly live as she was meant to - as a person, as a human

the party eventually fought a couple more demons and, with the help of skeleton man, defeated them. in the aftermath, gertrude and brillin FINALLY smooched and it was RAD, and they later had a roof top discussion about everything and about Them. they came to the conclusion that neither of them really knew what was happening, or what their place in the universe was, and the weight of the inevitably of them both hollowing was ever present, but they wouldn’t focus on that - they would focus on the now, on living as best they could in the moment, and deciding that they would eventually figure things out, and they would do that Together

dang i didn’t mean to do just a plot summary of that whole campaign so far but i got TOO into talking about gertrude i just……………….. love her so much guys she has learned and grown so much she literally started off as half a joke character i literally threw her concept together 10 minutes before the first session started and she became so!!!!! much more than i could’ve ever expected

anyway my other character is alicia aka the Divine Lady who i cant talk about TOO much because i just started playing her and friends in that campaign follow me and there’s #spoilers but she’s a life cleric who was once a shy awkward little boy named joey who has grown in to a slightly less awkward but no less shy but STRONG woman. she’s a life cleric and JUST wants to help people she’s really caring and is always worried about someone and i love her she’s such a change of pace from my usual edgy characters she is TOO good for this world and has two beautiful lesbian blacksmith moms and a million adopted “cousins” who she all loves dearly

she’s surprisingly Buff, enjoys blacksmithing (she made all of her armor and weapons), is a big fan of beauty in all forms, is an avid reader, and is constantly writing letters home to her family and keeping a diary of her adventures. she worships lethandar (aka god of birth & renewal) as well as sune (aka goddess of beauty), with the symbol of sune crafted into her shield and her mace designed to have a sun motive for lethandar, and she has big dorky glasses because she’s blind as a bat

some other side characters include primrose my college of swords bard who is JUST primrose from octopath traveler, ailce my water genasi druid that i usually play in one shots who in the most recent one shot i played her in adopted a wonderful child who has bat ears and was NOT appreciated by their parents and she loves them with all her heart, and ari “the banshee” who is a city cleric in a modern space based campaign who is an anarchist and part of a punk rock band

oh! also i have a tag for gwyn (which is just #gwyn tag) and TWO for gertrude (#former gertrude tag and #gertrude tag, former being for dagger related things since she lost her love of them) and im sure i’ll get an alicia one going! its all just like aesthetic stuff or things i relate to them but you can get a good sense of those characters through those

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afootnotetoallthisnoise-blog · 6 years

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on ‘lady bird’, ‘love, simon’, and teenagers’ relationships on film

(Plug: this new YouTuber is way better at analysing film/TV than I am.)

I just watched Lady Bird and Love, Simon on a flight to New York, and since both films are deeply preoccupied with teenagers’ platonic, romantic, and familial relationships, I wanted to look at what I thought was original and fresh about these films’ perspectives – and what was more derivative and inauthentic.

i. parent-child relationships: attention and complexity

Lady Bird is centred around the titular girl and her developing identity, relationships and aspirations through her final year of high school. Easily the deepest and most emotionally arresting aspect of Lady Bird is Christine’s, or ‘Lady Bird’s’, relationships with her family, particularly her mother, Marion. This film works hard to expand a turbulent mother-daughter relationship past the simple archetypes of ‘moody teenage daughter’ and ‘unreasonable bitch mother’, into a more complex, three-dimensional whole which incorporates both the faults and the humanity that both characters have. Not only are both characters viewed singly as well as in relation to each other – LB is not solely ‘Marion’s daughter’, Marion does not solely exist as ‘LB’s mother’ – the film moves past a simply summed-up conflict into a more complicated picture, where both LB and Marion are driven by desires, fears and anxieties they can’t completely articulate to themselves, but which drive conflict both through difference in perspective and through inability to communicate.

There are painful, powerful, intense moments in Lady Bird where LB and Marion are struggling to communicate, to reconcile their differing views and convey themselves properly. LB’s confused but intense desire to go to New York, a place where she believes she will experience things which constitute ‘life’, exists alongside Marion’s grief at LB’s ostensible rejection of the life she has worked to give her, and neither are made out to be ‘right’ or ‘wrong’. They love each other deeply, but they can’t articulate the fears, anxieties, and stubborn desires which complicate their relationship, so their silent moments of shared, intense emotion – like the audiobook at the beginning of the film – are coupled with frustrated moments of crosstalk, mutual misunderstanding, hurt, affront, and anger. LB, as a self-centred, self-discovering adolescent, often fails to think about how her actions and speech are affecting her family, whilst Marion’s worry and care about LB manifest in being overly critical – she seems completely incapable of speaking positively to LB, including a deeply painful moment where she refuses to compliment LB’s prom dress.

They both reminded me of real people I know, real pangs of discomfort I’ve felt hearing a family friend speak slightly disparagingly about her daughter’s university chances, or an old acquaintance roll his eyes at his parents’ careful efforts to help him. It felt so refreshing seeing that complexity get handled on film – often parents are just supplementary figureheads in their child’s story (or vice versa), and if the film is interested in the parent-child relationship, it rarely gets its teeth into the sheer nastiness which can come out in certain parent-child relationships. There are, of course, teenager-centric films which get into complex parent-child dynamics – the differing burdens of childhood illness on parents and children, like in The Fault in Our Stars; parents’ work intersecting with children’s feelings of neglect, like in Coraline; radical inability to communicate or understand, e.g. The Virgin Suicides – but that richness of both love and frustration on both sides is a rare thing to see.

Love, Simon isn’t aiming to be as deep on this matter as Lady Bird, but it still has its own insights. Mostly Simon’s family is pretty happy and saccharine, but when Simon comes out, I think Simon’s father’s reaction – garbling a joke, panicking, leaving, shutting down – showed excellent acting and direction: it did what most good acting does, which is to break down a dichotomy of response (here, between the coming-out reactions of ‘I love you and everything’s fine’ and ‘BEGONE FROM THE PREMISES, DEMON GAY’). That confused, choked response conveyed the rush of forces acting on Simon’s father: desire to defuse the tension, desire to support, desire to downplay the situation, confusion, shock, grief at the reality of change, grief at the loss of a presumed similarity, grief that he hadn’t realised sooner. I’m sure more realistic reactions like that have happened in films before, but I haven’t personally seen any, and I found it refreshing: it broke down the scripted feel of both overly saccharine and uniformly harsh reactions, both of which close the door to further growth and development in the parents’ reaction to their child’s queerness.

ii. romantic relationships: centrality, development

In Love, Simon, there are tropes present, but I liked how it approached some aspects of teenagers’ romantic relationships. The ambiguity about Blue’s identity meant that we got a different model for how relationships can develop, pertinent in an age where dating is conceptualised as mainly visual (think the structure of apps like Tinder) and connection is determined through in-person interaction, but where, conversely, deep, lasting relationships have developed without that visual focus since the advent of the internet (through MMORPGs like World of Warcraft, for instance). The bit at the end was cheesy, but that’s what they were going for, and it was so sweet to watch.

Most of the other romantic stuff was pretty run-of-the-mill – the couple who like each other but things keep getting in the way; the unrequited crush; etc – but there’s one other aspect I’d like to mention, which is how Simon’s falling-out with his friends is handled about 2/3 of the way through the film. A less nuanced film would just have Abby, Leah, and Nick getting pissed that Simon meddled in Abby and Nick’s relationship, without them understanding about Simon’s bind due to Martin’s blackmail. But what I liked was that both Abby and Leah acknowledge the pressure that the blackmail put on Simon, but they make clear that it doesn’t excuse his disrespect for both Abby (by treating her like a ‘piece of meat’ to be given to Martin in exchange for his own safety) and Leah (by sending her on a date with a man he thought she loved, knowing that he wasn’t interested in her). It’s not the tired ‘it’s all a misunderstanding, guys’ conflict: they understand what happened, but they still argue that Simon’s disrespect for their own romantic lives and autonomy wasn’t okay.

While Love, Simon is dually focused on Simon’s coming out and his budding relationship – though the two threads aren’t separate – LB’s relationships in Lady Bird are significant but aren’t the central focus of the movie, which I liked; while it makes sense for a romantic relationship to be central to Love, Simon, since it’s a sensible mode within which to discover something like queerness (which is intrinsically tied up with your relationships to other people), Lady Bird’s focus on self-discovery works better with the romantic relationships not being central, otherwise it would perpetuate the tired stereotype that a woman’s ‘coming of age’ has to be pretty-much-entirely experienced through falling in love with a man. (It being central is fine, but I don’t like the implications that somehow, teenage girls cannot Mature into Full Human Beings unless a dude and his dick shows up.) LB’s two relationships are with the too-perfect-guy and the douchebag-who-doesn’t-give-a-shit, neither of which provide really new perspectives on teenagers’ romantic relationships – neither character has much depth in the film, either – but I thought the sex scene and its aftermath was very well done: LB’s recognition that the performative significance she’d given her first sexual experience was different from the reality, and her recognition that the guy she’d slept with wasn’t worth the language she’d inherited for it, rang very true. (Also, the situation bore out some excellent humour. ‘I was on top! Who the hell is on top for their first time?!’)

iii. friendships: the status problem

I think Lady Bird is a great film, but the part I found the least inspiring was LB’s friendship arc. I’m pretty sick of this formula: protagonist is best friends with good, loyal, but low-status friend/s -> protagonist manages to get in with the popular kids and abandons their low-status friend/s -> protagonist realises popular kids are shallow assholes and they’ve made a horrible mistake -> protagonist apologetically returns to low status friend/s, there is a bit of anger and conflict, but eventually they all make nice. I’m sick of it because I feel like it doesn’t ring true.

Now, I have been through secondary school, recently though not overly so (I graduated from sixth form in 2015). I know that status is a thing in secondary school and that it exerts an influence. But I dislike this ubiquitous storyline which implies that a) every school conforms to a rigid hierarchy of popularity and that b) literally everyone gives a shit about improving their status. I found Love, Simon’s group of four much more authentic in this regard: ultimately, Simon’s group of four just enjoy each other’s company, rather than being rigidly grouped based on status or fitting a recognised ‘type’. Depicting popularity as being present but not all-encompassing seems to resonate more with how my school worked, where there were recognisable groups but a lot of boundary-blurring, and where different subcultures could - usually - peacefully coexist alongside each other.

Because it adheres closely to the student-social-climber model, the astounding depth of familial relationships and notable depth of romantic relationships in Lady Bird isn’t replicated in LB’s friendships. Not every character needs to be an incredibly complex seventeen-year-old (I’m fine with Kyle just being a bit of a bored poser), but I feel like the film either tried and failed to give Jenna depth or just agreed she wouldn’t have any, and I feel like it would have really served the story for LB to realise that the girl at the top of the totem pole actually had problems and internal conflict, despite her status and wealth. As it is, she just stays ‘bored rich chick’ from beginning to end. Julie isn’t given as much depth as she could be either – all her appearances just seem to reinforce ‘sweet nerd archetype’, and no attention is given to her own brief romantic relationship and romantic turmoil - though I don’t begrudge them the prom scene (it was very sweet).

Overall, I didn’t realise just how refreshing it would feel to see a group of friends who experience growth, development and conflict, but who also just really like getting iced coffee together! And the fact that it did highlights a problem with friendship stereotypes in high school movies.

#essay #love simon #love #simon #lady bird #movies #film

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