#but elves are poly in this series so it's fine

[stormxpadme]

Character Ask Game:

Scott Summers: 3, 5, 13, 23

Logan: 1, 5, 12, 14

Remy Lebeau: 6, 9, 15, 21

CHARACTER ASK GAME!!!

Scott Summers

3 - Least favorite canon thing about this character?

When we talk about the movies, it's everything about the new movies LOL. Starting from taking one of the most important aspects aka being the older protective brother from him. But since I don't work with that particular multiverse timeline and ignore it even exists, I'll turn to comics for a moment, I guess. Boi really needs to learn how to talk about his emotions more instead of relying on the telepaths in his life to read him and sort shit out for him on a personal level. Seriously. Dude. You don't got your tongue only for making your lovers scream in bed.

5 - What’s the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

People knowing my fanfiction verse know that I gave Scott a rather unpopular hobby with classic dancing (thanks Hellfire Gala 2022 for enabling me in that by him rocking that tango), so there's lots of songs I remember him and the wifey dancing to that are dear to my heart. He's also a bit of a movie nerd, can't change my mind, and I made it canon in my verse that he often watches Breakfast Club with the kids in movie hours at school because yeah, at least in old movieverse timeline, he IS that much of a dinosaur and the movie is great for emotional growth especially for you teenagers. So somehow I always end up with Don't you forget about me for him in my head, not least because I named the oneshot in question after one of the lyrics.

13 - What’s an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot?

✔️

Look, boi just loves his organization lists and to pester everyone with them even worse since the invention of smartphones.

23 - Favorite picture of this character?

Pfft, that's evil to choose from in a franchise that has so many verses :D.

With comics, there's far too many so I took the latest. For reasons. Yeah, yeah, I know, it's same face syndrom, might just as well be looking at Remy here if you shun the VISOR. But like. Any Scott comic look looking similar to James is fine with me. Also, yes, much as I hate this movie, I have a motorcycle fetish, thanks for asking.

Logan

1 - Why do you like or dislike this character?

It's really the whole "wearing my scars on the inside" thing. I love the whole idea of someone physically indestructible coming with the according mental damage of decades and someday millenia, probably. It's basically a short-sized Tolkien elf aesthetic, think more of Silmarillion elves though who were far more feral and less regal LOL.

5 - What’s the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

Going back to my verse again where Logan's big on the classics not least because they often trigger memories of the life he's forgotten. Ring of Fire means a lot to Jean and him in that verse, which is not least why I named a oneshot series about them after it.

12 - What’s a headcanon you have for this character?

Much like Scott, Logan's actually not bad a dancer and not half-bad a singer. He doesn't love both but get him drunk enough he'll hum away and if the occasion calls for it, he'll be on the floor. Grudgingly.

14 - Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

Dumpster cowboy Logan never gets old.

Remy LeBeau

6 - What’s something you have in common with this character?

We both have an accent that people often won't understand LOL.

9 - Could you be roommates with this character?

I mean, depends on how aro-poly things get *cough*. Otherwise, we'll both need really good noise cancelling phones because there'll be lots of kinky shit going on in both rooms and a gal needs to sleep every once in a while.

15 - What’s your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn’t matter if it’s canon or not.)

I'm a Romy truther but in oneshots, you can sell me pretty much. Much like Scott, Remy's a fandom bycicle for me. Even wrote him with Scott in a oneshot once or twice because they're just fucking hot together.

21 - If you’re a fic writer and have written for this character, what’s your favorite thing to do when you’re writing for this character? What’s something you don’t like?

I talked about it before and just can repeat, I really am committed to my "former voluntary and enthusiastic sexworker Remy" headcanon. I like working on that part when I get the chance, including all the highs and lows that come with the job, the changing attitude towards sex and physical nearness especially with regard to Marie etc.

Don't ever ask me to write a cajun accent though. I simply let it be because there's enough hacks at Marvel headquarters already who butcher languages they can't be assed to hire someone for who actually speaks them. I don't want to look similarly stupid. Like, it's mentioned that he speaks cajun and the accent in my stories several times but I don't write it out in dialogue because I simply suck at it. But if someone who actually speaks cajun ever is in the mood to redo all my Remy dialogue, you're welcome.

[ten-thousand-paper-wasps]

It wasn't the sex, not exactly. Sex for Nells was entirely casual, it hardly meant anything, harmless fun. It was easy.

Morrin wasn't easy, in any sense of the word. She was caustic, irritable and derisive and she made sure he knew exactly how much he displeased her.

He loved her, the way one might love a particularly ruinous cat, or an especially difficult grandmother. She was his darling, furious counterpart.

She carried him home in her arms. He trusted her with his back in a fight, with his life. There were no secrets he would hide from her.

But evidently, the feeling wasn't mutual.

"Make it good for me, pet," she commanded, like a god to its acolytes.

And Nells, in her thrall, fell to worship.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

On the third day, he came awake to the sound of muffled sobbing. Zakurr loomed over him, eyes screwed shut, kneeling in a desperate prayer. Falk sat at his side, their hand on Nells' heart and eyes glowing with power.

The crying had to be Morrin, then.

He reached for their hands. He was okay. He was home.

He was also exceptionally tender, which was absolutely not improved by being crushed by an anxious orc and his massive, beautiful biceps. Oh, how he's missed Zakurr.

When Falk ends the spell and their eyes return to normal, Nells sits up. "Where's Morrin?"

"She went to bed," Falk tells him. "Been a long couple of days, needed some time to herself. You know how she gets."

"Was up all night again, too," Zakurr added. "She's been in a right state since she brought you back."

Falk shoots a glare at Zakurr. "She just needs space," they said. "Nothing wrong with a girl taking time to sort her feelings. Was both of you covered in blood when you got in, of course she's been worried."

"But so have we, dearest," Zakurr rumbles. Worried for both of you, we were. I thought...Nells, I thought I was going to lose you. You wouldn't wake up."

"I'm okay, really," he reassures them. "What about--"

"She told us what happened. It's far from my place to say, mind, but I suspect she's feeling a bit conflicted."

Falk glares at Zakurr again, and Nells resolves to talk to Morrin immediately.

His stomach gurgles. Immediately after breakfast.

"I made soup," says his beautiful, magnificent orc. Nells thinks, for the thirtieth time in a week, that he's in love.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Once they're on the road again, Nells asks her. "Morrin, can we talk?"

"I don't especially want to talk with you, Nells, pleased though I am that you're alive."

"See, I weren't really asking, dearest, I do very much need to speak with you." Owlsby chose that moment to skitter up his body to perch on his shoulder, clicking his mandibles together.

"Seems to be a theme for you," she spits, "asking without asking."

He's taken aback by the accusation behind the words. He'd asked her, absolutely. Made damn sure of it, he had. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, don't beg, my pretty pet, not when your mouth can be better put to use. You can call it a duty, if you like."

Falk, just ahead, whipped around. "Morrin, that was uncalled for."

"Perhaps we can all discuss this more constructively?" Zakurr suggested. "If we’re to be together for as long as we will, I'd like no resentment among us."

"Morrin?" he tries again, "Did I dishonor you?" He almost fears the answer.

"It was a duty," she eventually says. "When you have a duty, there is no want or fear, only that it must be done."

"Morrin," he whispers, horrified, "have I sinned against you?"

"It was a duty," she repeats. "I would have done it regardless. It matters not if one wants it, one simply does it."

"I'm not asking about your thrice-damned duty, you stubborn, half-spent candlestick, I'm asking--"

"You did me no dishonor, Nells, but by the flames, I wasn't ready! I needed tenderness! You fucked me, you sputtering ball of wax, you fucked me and I loved it! I loved every minute, even though it meant nothing! It meant nothing, Nells, and that is your dishonor, not that you did it in the first place!"

Morrin had tears in her eyes again, but so did he. Merciful fires of birthing, ash on the hearth, smoke on the wind. He was stupid. He was so, so stupid.

They spend the rest of the afternoon in uneasy silence.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

After dinner, which is a stew made with the rabbits Falk caught earlier in the day, Nells feels ready to try again. He did wrong by her, and he must apologize.

"Morrin? May I speak with you?"

It's another long pause before she answers. "Aye."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I pushed you, I'm sorry that I didn't consider your feelings. I'm sorry for hurting you the way I did."

She takes a ragged breath, refusing to look at him. Falk's eyes are on them, watchful and wary.

"I'm not upset that you fucked me," she said. "I'm upset with myself. It was just something I had to do, you know? A duty. I can put my feelings away for duty. It doesn't count, not if it's duty. I could do it again, if I had to."

"Look, if we fuck, we fuck. If we don't, we don't. I don't want that from you, not if you don't want it. I don't want it if it's duty."

"Nells, the plan was--"

"Ash on the hearth, damn the plan! I can't do that to you again! Next time, you overinflated gust of wind, we just fight our way out."

Morrin snorted, and he thought he saw the ghost of a smile. "A castle that big? Maybe if you brought your newest husband with you. I'm not sure I have the strength to do it, myself."

"Come now," he laughs, "Zakurr couldn't pull off that level of deception, you've seen how huge he is."

"If he were much bigger, he'd break you in half," she says, a genuine grin on her face.

They were going to be okay. Coals on the sands, they were going to be okay.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

They don't touch anymore after that.

They love eachother the way they always have, but the easiness is gone, a brittle anxiety in its place. If they lean together, they jump apart. They stop hugging. Cuddling. Even sparring together has become too much touch to tolerate.

Zakurr was worried. Falk was agitated. Morrin was skittish. Nells was just lonely and a little lost, yearning for the touch of his vicious paladin. All the molten magma of creation, what he'd give to only hold her hand again!

After three weeks of forced distance, he broke. "Morrin, I can't do this any longer."

She only looked at him, quiet as she's always been, lately.

"This has to stop," Nells insists. "I hurt you, I did harm to your person. You are within your rights to be cross with me. But this, Morrin, this silence, this distance between us, it cannot go on! Carve your price from my back if you will, only be at my side again. Be my shield, my sensibility."

"Are you truly so lost, Nells?" Her voice is rough with disuse.

"Morrin, please, let us end this--"

"Spar with me."

"You want to spar?" he asks, hopeful.

"Dearest," says Zakurr, "are you quite sure this is wise?"

"It's what he needs," she grinds out. She draws her monstrous greataxe and steps toward him, and Nells mirrors her pose with a staff.

"Then you can do it elsewhere, away from my cooking," Zakurr commands. "I'll not have you knocking over dinner in a fit, either of you."

Falk says nothing, absorbed in his stew.

.

Her first strike is fast and brutal, and it's all he can do to keep out of her reach. Her beast of an axe is heavy, sharp, and unforgiving. If this is what she carries every day, it is little wonder she's so strong.

He snaps out of his thoughts as the branch he's perched on snaps in two, crushed by the metal of her weapon. He jumps up, up, out of her reach and she rages on the ground below him.

Morrin is too upset to spar safely. She's out to carve her price from his back, as he'd well offered. Sputtering candlesticks.

He comes in low, moving just slowly enough to get her close, then speeds back up to make her chase him. If she lands a blow like this, he may not survive the night.

He doesn't want to think about the idea that she's planning for it.

His staff strikes her behind the knees, on the shoulder, on the wrist, and she cries out but she does not drop her weapon. She swings again and catches his thigh with the flat of the blade.

Nells grunts in pain and drops. She didn't cut him, but that was going to leave a hell of a bruise later. He leaps back up as she swings the axe again, wincing.

The fight goes on, and on, and on. Nells and Morrin roll, twist, dance around eachother, remembering the shape of their bodies against one another.

After nearly two hours of constant, vicious combat, they stop, too tired to continue. They sit and rest, back to back, and Nells tries to burn the feeling into his memory, the weight of skin on skin.

"I'm sorry," she says, surprising him. "I went too hard." If you were any slower, I might have killed you, she doesn't say, but he hears it anyway.

"I probably had it coming," he tells her, rather than admit his panic. "Are we okay?"

She takes his hand. "I think we're okay," she says, and then she looks at him with such focus, like he's the most captivating thing she's ever seen. "Nells, back in the castle, you--"

"Upon my honor, darling Morrin, I shall never besmirch you in such a way again--"

"When you kissed me, there was, I don't know, it was a feeling, and maybe I'm being sentimental, but--"

"Morrin, I swear it, you're safe with me, let me hold you." And he pulls her to him in a soft, but solid embrace, burying his face in her mane of hair.

When he finally pulls back, she's still looking at him with those beautiful brown eyes. "Nells, it is terribly improper of me to ask this of you, but I need you to kiss me again."

Candlesticks, he really wasn't expecting that. "Er, what?"

"I've been feeling a lot of things, and I need to figure them out. This is the easiest way to do it. Kiss me, please."

"Morrin, are you feeling alright? Do you have a fever? I can fetch Zakurr, just a moment--"

"Please," she whispered. "If only once, but you must, I beg of you."

This was officially the most confusing day of his life. "Alright, dearest," he said, and he kissed her.

It was long and slow and gentle, the most tender he knew how to give. He ran a hand up her back, feeling the way their mouths fit together. Her eyes were closed. He held her more closely to him, the hand on her back pressing in, and then,

She grips his shirt in a fist and opens her mouth to him, tongues pressing together, fighting, dancing. She's taking control, forcefully, and he's letting her.

When they finally break apart, she's blushing like mad. "Did you figure things out?" he asks.

"I did," she sputters. "I figured out that you're a damnably good kisser, but I'm not in love with you, and as enjoyable as it was, I don't think I want to fuck you again." She pauses a moment. "Are we okay?"

"Yeah," Nells chuckles. "We're okay.

[timeforelfnonsense]

Unconventional

Astarion x Dafni || G || Previous Story Chronologically (not necessary but might fill in some gaps) || Ao3 || Sunshine & Starlight: My on going bg3 series  

The low fire crackled and popped as it consumed more of its kindling into ash. Dafni idly ran her finger along the chipped rim of the ceramic mug clasped firmly in her hand. She prodded the slice of venison on her plate with her two-pronged fork, translucent red juices trickling out from the small puncture. A frown tugged at her mouth, as her mother’s voice rang in her ears.

Don’t play with your food dear, it’s impolite.

Dafni sighed, popping a portion of the meat into her mouth. She found the rich, earthy taste of deer flesh pleasant enough. There was a gameyness to wild-caught meat she’d missed in the city. It lent itself well to the simplicity of rosemary and salt Gale had prepared it in.

“This is very good Gale,” she said between bites, “Deer can be a difficult meat.”

The wizard grinned bowing his head ever so slightly in thanks, “That’s kind of you, Dafni. I’ve always enjoyed cooking! Though, I have to admit my skills are more suited for a kitchen than a campfire.”

Dafni rather liked Gale. He was the sort of man who might have visited her mother’s tower seeking knowledge. If she closed her eyes she could picture him on the steps of Laurel chatting with Leto and Theia as the younger of Thesmia’s daughter hid away in an alcove tittering and blushing like little roses over his handsome face and magical skill. Polymnia in particular would have been taken with Gale. The lovely alseid had a soft spot for human men. Especially those with a quick wit and keen mind. Perhaps she’d introduce them when this was all over?

As the thought crossed her mind, it occurred to Dafni that Gale might not be on the market. She hadn’t thought to ask him- or any of her new friends for that matter if they had anyone who might be consumed with lovelorn worry by their disappearances.

Normally the romantic entanglements of those around here were among her favorite topics of discussion. She had always enjoyed listening to the trials and joys of her patients’ courtships in the city. When she’d lived among her own people, the wood elves too for that matter- love and sex had been discussed free and open. She’d found that city folk were, all too often, needlessly sheepish when it came to such topics.

“So, do you have loves waiting for you once this is all over?” Astarion asked in an airy, casual voice. A mirthful glimmer in his red eyes as he tossed his untouched serving of venison to Scratch. Dafni wondered if perhaps her own thoughts had bled into his head via their tadpoles or if Astarion was simply as curious as she was.

“You know what -” Gale responded, his brows stitching, “that is not the easiest of questions for me to answer.”

Drat!

So much for setting him up with Poly.

“You mean just waiting, like a love-sick puppy?” Shadowheart let out a judgmental huff, her pale gray-green eyes rolling as she spoke, “Short-term amusements are much less hassle. Do you have someone waiting for you in Baldur’s Gate, Astarion? A sweetheart perhaps?”

Dafni’s hands went clammy the moment Shadowheart’s words fell from her lips. Dafni had the unfortunate habit of finding herself enraptured with all sorts of eye-catching creatures, and mysterious, cheeky Astarion’s almost kiss had cast firmly him in the role of the leading lord in her girlish daydreams.

Bracing herself for what felt like an inevitable bruise- not only to her ego but her tender heart, she risked a quick peek at him through the little plume of steam forming above her cup. His long legs were casually outstretched, his elbow propped on the fallen tree behind him as if he were draped across a fine chaise lounge rather than earth and vegetation. He ran his hand through that perfect coif of soft, ivory curls. The cool, silvery light of the moon almost shimmered across his fair complexion. He had truly been blessed with the aloof, dreamy, beauty of Sehanine Moonbow. An incandescent majesty demanding admiration and awe.

“Not one in particular.” Astarion said with a coy shrug of his shoulders, “The city is a veritable feast of sweethearts.”

Dafni hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath until the lungs full of relief came whooshing out of her. While she was, in part, pleased to know there was no one of romantic significance in his life for her to contend with, his response had still left her a bit disheartened.

If he took such little issue with rake-ish behavior, why pull away from her kiss?

Dafni worried the fraying edge of her sleeve as she nibbled her lower lip. She felt a familiar tenderness in her chest. The same ache she’d felt as she watched each of her sisters be asked for dances of turns about the garden by the lords and ladies of the Summer Court during countless Seelie Soirées. Despite her outgoing nature and sunny disposition, those around her had always seemed determined to exile her to wallflowerdome.

“You must be eager to get back then. Slimmer pickings out in this wilderness.”

I think the pickings are just fine, thank you very much!

Dafni’s nose crinkled, a sour, resentful glare taking form across her face. She  knew  Shadowheart’s comment wasn’t intended as a dig but it felt like one nonetheless.

She’d always felt babyish compared to her beautiful older sisters. They were the kind of poised and lovely women folk expected the elves and nymphs of Faerie to be. Tall, slender ladies with a wild fey beauty that was nearly impossible to resist. In contrast, Dafni was petite in stature and plump in shape. She’d stopped aging physically sometime in her early 20s leaving her heart-shaped face with a trimming of eternal baby fat.

While she’d come into her own by no small measure whilst living among the wandering wood elves of Lylarth Forest. She could tease and tempt with the best of them and she’d had her share of dalliances in the last half-century. Even so, the ghost of the girl, sat pouting in the corner while her lovelier, more worldly sisters made merry lingered.

“How about you, dear?” Astarion asked tilting his gaze towards Dafni’s sulky figure, “Is there anyone waiting for you back in the city?”  

“Not really, I’d only been in the city for a few months,” Dafni explained. She kept her eyes fixed far away in hopes he wouldn’t see the fluster looming in them. “I don’t know many people in Baldur’s Gate aside from those who frequent my clinic and it wouldn’t be appropriate to pursue any of them. I think the people in my neighborhood found me a bit too… Unconventional for their tastes at any rate.” She tried her best not to sound bitter but there was still a bite to her words. While she’d been practically invisible to her fancies in the feywilds, in Baldur’s Gate she stuck out like a sore thumb. Most of the inhabitants of the lower city had never met a wood elf let alone an eladrin. They simply didn’t know what to make of her otherworldly countenance. Moreover, her own ineptitude when it came to understanding customs and niceties outside of the wilds had solidified her reputation as an eccentric outsider.

“To the hells with being conventional, darling.” Astarion scoffed, “Conventional is just a word tedious, uninteresting people use to justify their own mediocrity.”

His voice had an indignant edge to it. As if he was offended that the rabble of Eastway hadn’t been falling at her feet every time she crossed over her threshold. Dafni tried to fight the rush of heat that crept across the bridge of her nose and full cheeks. It felt good to be seen by someone so dazzling. And Gods, It was endearing to see him so ruffled on her behalf. If only he’d been at all those dreadful parties.

Perhaps he might have asked her for a dance...

Stop that! He’s only being polite, Dafni!  She scolded herself,  Don’t do this! He just admitted to being a heartbreaker, you silly, starry-eyed, ninny!

She tried to banish the cacophonous thumping in her chest. To herd the whimsical yearning into submission. It was no use. With every passing moment, she felt her attraction to him solidify into a full-on fancy. With luck, the feelings would fade in time, as they had with countless conquests before him. Their time together was far from over, so she’d just have to pray disinterest would take hold before she did something  too  embarrassing in an attempt to win him over.

“I’m inclined to echo that sentiment.” Gale’s voice felt like mercy. He had spared her from having to stammer out a reply of her own, “I think you’d be hard-pressed to label any of our number as conventional and I’d wager our chances of surviving these parasites are better for it.”

Gale was right, as usual. Dafni cast a glance across the faces of her new friends. Gale’s intelligence, Criella’s ingenuity, Wyll’s courage, Shaowheart’s wit, Lae’zel’s metal, Astarion’s charm. Each of them outlandish and remarkable in their own way. Their quirks and eccentricities made them the people they were. Despite the squabbling, despite the clashing personalities, she was glad to have them.

[ninequestions9]

David, 25, Actor

What is the biggest frustration you’re facing now?

Finding motivation to pursue the goals that I have decided are important to me. It is very difficult for me to sort of break out of established cycles in my life and take a chance and do something new that I know is important to me. It’s hard due to a mixture of anxiety and fear of failure. If you never try anything new then you can’t fail. I tend to just delay and pretend I’m waiting for an optimal time or specific circumstances, but there’s no such thing.

2. What trait do you wish you most had?

I mean my first instinct is to say teleportation, which is telling I think because commuting sucks. Can you imagine never having to commute ever again? Like you just apparate. That would be so good!

    But work ethic; the ability to just feel good about a job well done even if I didn’t want to do it. Right now I don’t really get that. I don’t get a feeling of satisfaction just from doing something work-wise. Cleaning, you know, that kind of thing. It just doesn’t make me feel good to get it done. So it’s so hard to motivate myself to do it.

3. What are 3 characteristics you look for in a friend?

Emotional availability; meaning someone who is capable of being open and available emotionally, like being present and being able to make commitments. Just general nerdiness. Being able to keep up in conversation about various passions. I guess a good listener is a more specific thing there because even if someone doesn’t share all the interests that I have, being able to be a good active listener is all that it really takes. On the flip side of that, passionate. Someone has to be passionate about at least one thing. I tend to perceive someone as boring if they don’t have at least one thing that they can just be like “Let me tell you about sock repair!” Otherwise I just feel like I never stop talking if someone doesn’t have the ability of matching my intensity on a number of issues.

4. What makes you feel brave?

Dating and/or social situations like parties. I’m quite introverted and I have some social anxiety at times, but it is something that I have worked at and have ways of overcoming due to my acting training in some respects and the friends I’ve made and the support I’ve received from them. Going out and having a good time and meeting strangers and finding common ground, making new friends.

5. What makes you feel vulnerable?

Just recently I had a sort of a break through and discovered how much emotion I tend to withhold from others, no matter how close they are to me. Which is part of growing up male. Every male is encouraged to not show emotion and not to be vulnerable and to deal with it yourself specifically. Maybe admit to yourself that you’re vulnerable and hurting, but don’t tell anybody else until after you’ve already solved it. Just recently I’ve gotten a little bit better at revealing when I’m feeling overwhelmed or stressed or anxious and in the moment; like revealing that and letting someone else help me manage those emotions.

    Emily, who is my partner right now, helped me a lot just by being observant and not letting me get away with just saying “Everything’s fine,” and withdrawing and just bearing all that by myself, which has been very healthy. Just healthier in general for both of us just because when someone is that close to you they can tell when you’re undergoing stress like that. There’s no use pretending otherwise with them; you’re not going to fool them so you might as well communicate about it and share it with each other.

6. What was your proudest moment?

It’s tough to pin down for me because I’m pretty prideful in general. Not in the Seven Deadly Sins kind of way, but I’m not afraid to admit when I’m proud of an accomplishment I’ve made or a skill that I’ve cultivated. I guess the thing that I feel the most proud of is admitting that I was poly[amorous]. That’s one of my most recent huge scheme of change in life. Just this shift that I made. That was something that I was denying myself, but once I saw it, it felt like it had always been right and I had been lying to myself and hurting people around me because I was lying to myself. Denying others and myself a chance to have a true open relationship was because of that. Making that realization and communicating with my girlfriend at the time about it and eventually freeing us from the unhealthy cycle we were trapped in: Me realizing I had feelings for other people and then thinking it meant I didn’t care for her and breaking up and then realizing that other people are shitty sometimes and getting back together with her. Just not healthy. Just coming to that realization has brought me a lot of joy and has opened up a lot of opportunities to stop hating myself for those specific reasons.

7. Who is your role model / hero and why?

I remember being asked this question as a child for a school project and I couldn’t think of anyone then so I just put Shaquille O’Neal. I just panicked and was like “Ahh I don’t know.” There are worse role models, but like I didn’t have any reasons to back it up.

    I don’t think I have ever really compared myself to other people in that way. Which is probably just a luxury of being a white cis male. Growing up, there was not as much pressure for me to match other people’s aesthetics or ideals. I could just have my own thing. My instinct now is to say….like no real humans. I think Steven Universe, from the popular Cartoon Network series “Steven Universe,” is a great example of a character who breaks down the toxic aspects of masculinity without sacrificing the positive attributes and being emotionally available. Even though he’s like 12, that’s definitely something that I love about myself and strive to be more and more everyday. Emotionally open and accepting and conscious of other people’s emotions. You don’t have to sacrifice any traditionally masculine virtues that you have as well. Yeah I feel comfortable saying Steven Universe.

8. What is one life lesson you’d like to pass down to future generations?

There is no such thing as a mono-culture. Always keep in mind that just because people share attributes does not mean they share culture or share opinions. No such thing as a mono-culture. Every American is different and believes different things or has the potential to believe different things. Everything I ever think about comes back to Dungeons and Dragons. It’s a miracle I didn’t mention it until now. The analog I always use is in classic fantasy, it’s all mono-cultures. Elves always live in forests and they always are elitist and proud and beautiful. Dwarves always live in mountains and are greedy and isolationist. Hobbits are portly and cook all the time and don’t like traveling. Mono-cultures. The only people who don’t have mono-cultures sort of are the humans. We apply these same sort of prejudices to real life. We believe that people that look similar or believe the same thing are these mono-cultures and we are constantly simplifying things in our minds by taking these short cuts.

    But really there’s no such thing! Every person might grow up in the same environment, but just have so many subtle differences in their upbringing or experiences that can lead to vastly different opinions. My parents grew up in the same place that I grew up and I grew up with my parents, but I don’t share a lot of their values or their beliefs.

9. What is your opinion of Jesus?

Jesus the man seemed pretty cool. I’m and atheist. I don’t believe that Jesus was anymore than a man. I don’t believe that he had any idea of what a big deal he was going to be so far down the road. I think he was a Jewish philosopher who sought to bring people closer together and clear up some of the discrepancies in the Old Testament and make people feel loved and supported and help people to love and support each other. Obviously, things got a little out of hand and they killed him. It makes a lot of sense that that story has survived throughout so many years because that is just the human condition right there. I don’t dislike him.

    To sort of get into a broader discussion, Christianity is not great at being fallible or admitting that their fallible. They have the whole like the pope is infallible rule, which tends to not be healthy. To admit that Christ might have been fallible and the people around him might have been fallible as well and to also admit that that does not invalidate his message or the things he did. This is something that happened thousands of years ago and has been translated into different languages hundreds of times. Taking these ancient texts as gospel is not necessary to finding meaning from them and to let them affect your life and better yourself.