#i saw a post about not assuming identities and people might be closeted and leaving behind the fact that i'm wary of this man well

[cherryjuicegf]

diversity win!! the white rich famous singer-who-became-actor due to his fame that they cast to play a gay cop is allegedly not straight according to fans studying him for a decade!!

[allthingsjeresa]

So I don’t have AO3 account and apparently you have to get invited to have an account. Fun fact I didn’t know. I’m currently stuck in a week long queue but I wrote a Jeresa fic and wanted to post it somewhere so here goes nothing… this is a rewrite of the ending of 5x04. An additional scene if you will. The songs that got me through this chapter (majority of season 5 actually are Love The Lonely Out Of You by Brothers Osborne and Terrible Love By The National. I encourage you to take a listen- they are as heartbreaking as they sound!

When James made it back to the safe house that night, mission completed and his body count one soul heavier, there was a thick air of coldness as he reported to Teresa.

Cop killed. Check. Thumb print left on the ledger. Check. Feds made it to the scene first. Check.

He was nothing if not thorough at his job and they both knew he didn’t need to specify that any of these things had been handled. A simple “we’re good” would’ve sufficed. Yet there he was making a point to specify with Teresa, only because it felt like he’d been put into a time machine.

All of a sudden he was back in Dallas, climbing up the ranks and filling in precise updates to a certain jefa. One who donned red lipstick and killer heels instead of white clothes and curly hair. It was too close to home, what Teresa expected of him and the mission he had just worked. When he’d done important jobs in the past, Camila always wanted to know everything down to the last detail.

So there he stood across the room, delivering the news to his newest “jefa” like the compliant and meticulous cartel lieutenant he was. Because one thing about James- he learned from his mistakes. And when it came to Teresa, he had a bad habit of mistaking things for what they actually were. You could say his very wrong perception of their relationship was how he ended up in a small pantry for hours that night, clutching onto hope that she would shoot him a text and backtrack. She never did.

Well, his vision was clearer than ever now and he would not make the mistake of confusing anything again. The unfortunate truth is that for the majority of his adult life, James had been a lethal killing machine. He had never told anyone before, not even when he was newly enlisted, just how much it terrified him. It was one thing to be good at killing but what if that was your only purpose in life? That was what kept James up late at night. He never seemed to fit in anywhere unless it meant he had his finger on a trigger or a clip of rounds in his pocket. Wherever he went, it felt like that’s all anyone saw for some time- who he could kill for them. Eventually, it became his identity. It was more of a curse really. At one point, possibly right after working for Camila, James learned to accept this.

Then from out of no where, Teresa Mendoza was brought to the warehouse one sunny hot day in Dallas and the wiring of his brain slowly unraveled. It’s true what people say about your world getting flipped upside down when you least expect it. He never expected Teresa.

You’re a good person, James.

We can do things a different way.

You don’t have to hide from me.

We’re in this together.

Everyone deserves that.

For the first time in years he thought maybe… just maybe he could find a new purpose. One with Teresa. Back in Phoenix, when they defeated la comission together he finally felt like he belonged. For the first time in a long while, he fit in somewhere. And that’s how Teresa and her team became his people.

Then what happened right after in Bolivia… well, it happened. The outcome of it shattered him and he never really explained to her why. He didn’t belong again. She’d thought him capable of the unthinkable. He was only good for deceit and murder in her eyes. His self-worth was back to square one. It was hard for James to get over it but he did. He would’ve stayed by her side if not for Devon. That’s how malleable he was when it came to Teresa. Naturally the minute he was free from Devon, he high-tailed it to New Orleans. No matter what happened between them, he would protect Teresa like always. He thought he’d warn her of the impending danger and if things went well, then maybe they could have a clean slate. Work things out. Run the business the way they always wanted to. Purpose. That was how James ended up in Louisiana with a heart full of hope and bullet in his gut.

But what no one tells you about hope- it hurts as much as heartbreak once it’s gone. James would know.

He was simply a soldier, like always. A living weapon to further her reign and nothing more. Her comment about the CIA earlier that day had only cemented it. And boy, had it hurt. It hurt because he thought maybe, after everything he was worth more to her. Because she was Teresa Mendoza and she wasn’t like anyone he’d encountered before. She didn’t see people around her as tools or collateral damage that either served or threatened her power. She didn’t see James the way everyone else in his life had. Or so he thought. James was starting to find out that perhaps he knew nothing at all. He didn’t know much about what had happened between that time he was gone, and the only person he wanted to ask had just made it clear what he was good for.

Don’t question me. She didn’t have to say it but he heard it loud and clear. So with those boundaries reinforced, he made himself a promise to keep the hierarchy between him and Teresa strictly maintained. That meant no personal questions or conversations. He would only do as he was told. He would treat her as the superior she was.

Maybe it didn’t have to be an issue- what he meant to Teresa. Maybe he could try and compartmentalize things. After all, he’d been a weapon most of his life for people and organizations much lesser than her. The United States government, Camila… Devon. Granted the last was not by choice, but still. It was nothing new. He didn’t have to take it so personally. He could do it.

And he would. How could he not? This was Teresa after all. He’d assume his well accustomed position of diligent death-dealer while knowing that he might be worth nothing more than a loaded gun in her hand… knowing that he felt the way he did about her and that there wasn’t much he could do about it. He was bound to Teresa whether he liked it or not. One thing about James- he was good at eventually accepting things for what they were. With that rooted in his head, James didn’t dare look back as he made his way to his room, carrying the weight of the last year and now that day on his shoulders.

****

While James did his best to establish a new mindset, Teresa was struggling. He walked away from her and suddenly she was on the verge of tears. Again.

Wait.

She had wanted to cry out, beg him not to leave and try her best to explain. Instead she let him walk away because what she’d done was unjustifiable. It was a new low for her, reassuring him with promises of helping those boys after she’d ordered him to kill. Especially because it wasn’t true. Not really. She knew killing that cop wasn’t so much about helping anyone as much as it was about protecting her business. Maybe it was best they didn’t talk too much. All she ever did lately was lie to him after all. She lied about only wanting safety and legitimacy in New York. She lied about not having a choice with Marcel. She didn’t intend to, but it’s just what came out. Maybe it’s what she wanted to believe. Teresa wondered what that meant for her. Was she becoming that twisted, it already felt like second nature to tell people what she thought they needed to hear? She felt disgusting. She wanted to scream.

But nothing came out. That’s all she gave anyone lately.

Nothing.

Nothing but orders and vicious, petty blows.

Pressure was destroying Teresa. Pressure to keep the house of cards from falling down. While her business thrived, she crumbled. She was not only distraught but ashamed. Out of everyone she could choose to lash out on, she knew James didn’t deserve it. Not after everything in Phoenix. Not after a year of being a slave to Devon’s clutches and certainly not after getting shot and nearly bleeding to death just to make it to her in time.

While James tried to wash off his sins of the night in a shower across the house, Teresa silently cried again over a line in her closet. It was getting too repetitive, her little habit. It had started slowly. She had endless nightmares about cars exploding. Tony. Brenda. Birdie. Running for her life in Culiacan. Sometimes she was even back in that cage in Dallas. She wasn’t sleeping at all. That was how her relationship with cocaine began. A little bump here and there to get her through the day. It did what no amount of caffeine could ever. It gave her invincibility, strength and courage. When Teresa forgot just how capable she was, cocaine was there to remind her. When she had a tough night, and it felt like it was starting to become every night, it gave her the push she needed to go on. Right now she needed to remember why she was doing what she was. The coke made her more of everything. But perhaps she’d been wrong about that too. As she looked in the reflection in front of her, eyes puffy and bloodshot from her breakdown, she felt anything but strong. Maybe it was in her weakness she did what she did next. Or perhaps it was the coke ironically making her too confident, Teresa really couldn’t tell the difference anymore. But she cleaned herself up, removing any traces of tears and made her way to the other wing of the house.

When she knocked on his room door to no response she feared the worst. She gave it 30 seconds before she turned around to make it back to her wing when the door swiftly opened. Teresa’s eyes met James’ surprised face and she swallowed.

So much for cocaine-fueled bravery.

Hair slightly damp, clad in a muscle shirt and a cigarette perched between his lips, he’d guided her to the balcony attached to his bedroom.

For a good while neither of them said a word. He offered her a cigarette and she simply shook her head in refusal. In all honesty, she was scared her hands shook a bit too much to take it. It might’ve been seconds or minutes before anyone spoke. Teresa didn’t know. Then, finally James broke first.

“What is it Teresa?” His voice was scratchy and thick as if he hadn’t spoken in days. No beating around the bush or awkward tip-toeing. Just serious and straight to the point. She almost flinched.

Without looking at him, Teresa sniffed and gave her answer.

“I wanted to apologize. Earlier, what I said. I was out of line. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Her voice was soft as she pushed a curl back nervously.

They both knew exactly what she was referring to, so she was confused when James said nothing and instead nodded at her apology in acceptance. Or maybe hurt was the better term. Because while Teresa had come to appreciate his anger, even his disapproval most recently, she wasn’t prepared for his indifference. It was like a slap in the face. She wondered if maybe that’s what it was like being in her orbit lately.

Well… that’s that.

Shame flooded her once again and she fought to keep her composure, a wave of emotions threatening to hit like a monsoon. She rubbed her nose and sniffed again. Her voice was shaking when she meekly replied “I should go.”

Teresa barely made it a step before James spoke again.

“You know, at least make sure your nose is clean if you’re gonna give orders to end lives.”

This time it was James who didn’t look up. Instead he stared intensely out into the night, puffing out hits of nicotine. His face was an unreadable mask.

“What?” Teresa blinked. The air was suddenly chilly and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She thought she had an idea of how this conversation might go. This… this was not it.

James put out the cigarette and finally faced her. What he saw only confirmed his assumption. A deer stuck in the headlights.

“I pushed weight for six years in Dallas with Camila. I know coke drip, Teresa. I know it so well, I made a point not to associate with people who powdered their nose too often.”

He spat out the last words and it was only then Teresa realized her great failure of reading his temperament. It wasn’t indifference he’d been feeling, but rather pure anger. Rage disguised as calm silence. He knew. Of course he did. Probably from the moment he opened his door. If Teresa was a one way mirror he was the only one able to see the other side. Somehow she was able to compose herself enough to reply.

“It’s not what you think. It’s been a hard week, that’s all.” Teresa was feigning self-assurance. She had been on the run, encountered many terrifying people in her days and nearly died one too many times, but if there was a moment where she was struggling to look more confident than ever, it was right then. The sad truth is she only said that because she didn’t know what else to say. They both knew it was bullshit.

James sighed.

“Yeah, is that what you tell yourself? Listen, if you want to protect your business at all costs, I get that. And I’ll do whatever it is you need me to do. After today, you should already know that. But this… this is a hard limit, Teresa. One that will only end badly.” His words came out rough.

“Look, I have it under control.” Standing in front of him, pupils blown, feeling like a raw open nerve she wondered if he could sense just how much she was spiraling. James had killer instincts and with that came killer intuition.

Hard limit.

What did that even mean? If she didn’t get her nose clean he would leave? Oh no. She needed damage control. She couldn’t get hurt again like the last time.

“Besides,” Teresa didn’t know why she continued, “you don’t understand.” Maybe it was a cry for help.

There was emphasis behind her words and James was studying her closely now. His forehead slightly furrowed, eyes squinting as if in deep concentration. Then he laughed and Teresa’s stomach dropped even more.

“I don’t understand. I don’t understand?”James’ voice was a sardonic repetition of her own words laced in disbelief.

“You know that line might work with Pote, Kelly Anne or anyone else in this house but don’t pull that bullshit with me.” He pulled out another cigarette and lit it, while Teresa grabbed onto the balcony railing. She felt like she needed the support. This conversation felt too familiar. How many times had they stood on a balcony, angry and upset with the other, unloading and apologizing? James was losing count. His head spun.

“Teresa, we both know all I’ve done since I’ve stepped foot here is respect boundaries and follow your orders. That’s fine if it’s what you want, it really is. But you shut me out. You said you wouldn’t hide and yet here we are, and you have the audacity to throw in my face how I don’t understand? How could I possibly understand? You won’t give me the time of day if I’m not doing whatever it is you need from me. You haven’t even given me a chance.”

James was now the one doing his best to reign in his emotions. He had so carefully crafted a mask all day. Worked hard to lay out a gap of distance between them. And suddenly, here she was unstoppable. Trouble. Like a constant tornado in his life, from the moment she first appeared in that warehouse. Always showing up and tearing everything down. She was too good at it.

“You’re right. I haven’t been fair to you lately.” How do you show up to give one apology and end up with two? Teresa was in for it. With a deep breath she continued.

“Look, maybe it was a mistake, asking you to stay. If you want to leave after this, I’ll understand. And I promise I won’t hold it against you, James. You’ve done so much for me, for this business. But you deserve to be happy too.” Teresa said those words and her vision blurred. It was the most honest she’d been all night and she found herself letting him go again. He couldn’t be happy there, with her. Teresa wasn’t even happy herself. Declarations of “you deserve that” rung between them from that night in New York. The same night she let him back inside and shut him out all at once. “I know this hasn’t been what you expected when you decided to stay. For that, I’m sorry. I should’ve been honest with you, about things changing but I wasn’t. The fact is that it has to be different now. After the car…” Teresa choked up and stopped mid-sentence. “Look, the price to pay is too much. I can’t go back to who I was. And I can’t run this business any other way. Please understand.”

The underlying message behind that- she couldn’t be the person he wanted her to be as a cartel leader or as a lover. Her morals had to go down the drain and well, she wouldn’t be vulnerable with James because they could not have that kind of relationship. Not in this lifetime, as she had so sweetly put it.

There was definitely more to her latest revelation and he didn’t know the details behind it just yet. It didn’t matter. All he knew was that if she had been using for whatever reason, the last thing he would do was up and leave. No. He decided he would not be going anywhere, because as Pote had preached to him only a week ago, she might not want him to stay but she needed him. He just hadn’t realized how much at that moment or why. And James did not come this far, signing off a year of his life and fighting off death itself just to lose her to the very product she sold. As long as he remained flesh and bone, she would not destroy herself. He wouldn’t allow it. Not ever again. So he made sure to look her pointedly in the eyes when he sharply said “I’m staying, Teresa.”

And with that said, he walked off the balcony and into the bedroom dismissing her and any words of leaving.

[fipindustries]

my little grain of sand for all the gender non-conforming transgirls out there, a specific demographic that i hold dear and near to my heart because in a lot of way is the one i identify with the most. (there are subtle cameos going on here including @sigmaleph) lets see if you can spot her.

now this applies to all gender non conforming transgirls but i want to set a little moment aside to adress one specific portion of this group, which is the specific group i had in mind when i started this excercise. trans girls in denial or lost deep inside the closet, colloquially known as “eggs”.

i have found that most trans representation i have seen tends to be post transition, after the person has already assumed their gender, their identity, well after they managed to pass. which i believe is in part the reason it took me so long to come to terms with my identity. to me trans people were people who always knew with one hundred percent certainty who they were, from a very early age, it wasnt until i started going to actual trans spaces that i realized that for a lot of people this was not the case at all. that to be trans is not necessarily being out and proud, that it can be a constant game of uncertainty, of hedging, of barganing with your sense of self.

and i realize that i always needed those stories. that is why as a kid i always gravitated to tales about people discovering something about their true nature and even though they desperatly fought against it in the end they had to come to grips with it, accept it and embrace it. stories about werewolfs trying to control their transformations, stories about witches discovering their magical powers, stories about heroes learning about their fates.

luke finding out that darth vader is his father? that exchange they have? “it’s impossible!” “search in your heart, you know its true!” “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO” powerful stuff, this was crack to my young mind.

i couldnt see my own denial until i saw it in others. i browsed r/egg_irl back in september 28th, by october 3rd i was already uploading pics to instagram of me in girl mode. the joke i once saw here “im probably cis” “ok, so definitely trans” still fucking slays me every time i read it. 

the image of a passing transwoman confidently and proudly saying that they are a woman is a strong and valid one, but i posit that the image of someone that looks like a boy shily, hesitantly asking themselves “am... am i a girl?” can hold just as much power for it can help a lot of people recognize themselves much more strongly.

and one last thing, to all those people having their shells cracked, all those who might for the first time in their lives be asking themselves some pretty hard questions which you would much rather leave unadressed.

it is not a race. you dont have to jump to the deep end of the pool day one, and you can come out of the pool whenever you need to. you can just dip your toes to see how cold the water is. it is not a betrayal to still go by your assigned gender in public even after you came out of the closet. you can look like any of the people i drew here and that doesnt make you any less trans, it doesnt make you a cheater, or a fake, or tourist or a trender or whatever. this is not a life long contract that you have to commit to for keeps, this is something you do because you need it or want it, because it is what you like and what makes you comfortable and allows you to express yourself.

happy pride month everyone

[quarterfromcanon]

1-4. For the asks

Thank you so much for sending these! <3 

Once I started to answer them, I realized there were comparatively few recent television shows appearing on the list. I seemed to keep gravitating toward older ones I remembered from years ago. I took a handful of days to mull it over in case I was forgetting something, but nothing else comes to mind. Maybe my ongoing list of Shows to Watch During Quarantine will turn up some fresh results but, for now, it looks like I’ll be taking a little trip down memory lane. :) 

This turned out to be a pretty long and rambly post, so I’ll stow it under the cut!

Top 5 TV Shows 

1. Crazy Ex-Girlfriend - I can’t imagine this surprises anyone who has been following this blog for the past two years or so. It brought fellow fans into my life, got me back into writing fic, and prompted countless tags of meta. It’s the show my mind drifts to on a weekly basis (if not daily) even a full year after the finale. Just when it seemed I’d reached an age where that level of intense fandom involvement and character attachment might be fading, it proved that quite the opposite was true. I’m very thankful to the series for that, and for the people whose paths have crossed mine as a result.   

2. Schitt’s Creek - This is my #1 Feel Good show and, though I’ve been dodging spoilers for the final season until it gets uploaded to Netflix, I get the impression that it will remain in that top spot. The world feels softer and more hopeful there. It’s healing for my soul. I’m going to have a dreadfully difficult time saying goodbye, but I’m glad there are six season to revisit whenever I want. 

3. Stranger Things - The theme song alone sends such a rush of excitement through me. I love the aesthetic and the atmosphere. I sometimes have mixed feelings about the romances but the FRIENDSHIPS sure do have a direct line to my heartstrings. I think the way they’ve combined media influences into their own story is really neat. You get something that’s new and engaging, but you can also go back and enjoy the sources of inspiration with fresh appreciation. 

4. Joan of Arcadia - I can’t help it. The snark, the jackets, the early 2000s songs, the performances -- the nostalgia for this show is so strong. It’s not without its problems, but it did have some really good things to offer as well. I remember an episode that was one of my earliest introductions to the concept of a trigger, and the effect it could have on a person if exposed to one of theirs. The series dealt a lot with grief and the many forms it can take (I STILL can’t hear Fiona Apple’s cover of “Across the Universe” without getting misty-eyed). I’m also surprised, looking back, at the somewhat positive way I recall them discussing homosexuality on the several occasions that it came up in the show. Not to give too much credit since I don’t think there were recurring canonically LGBTQIA+ characters but, for a kid who spent most days around closed-minded people of a certain religious leaning, it was meaningful along my individual journey. I’d like to provide the several examples that are most vivid in my memory:

A. A girl with short hair, short nails, little to no makeup, and a bulky leather jacket is generally assumed to be a lesbian by the bullies at school. The show directly confronts the fact that “gay” should not be used an insult, that identity should not be assumed without the person telling you so, AND makes sure that the character in question never pushes back by saying harmful things about lesbians despite not actually being one herself. 

B. A boy who is questioning is able to confide in his big brother and have a fairly calm conversation about it; the awkwardness mostly comes from neither of them being accustomed to openly discussing emotions, not from the possibility of a negative response regarding the subject matter. 

C. Another character is accidentally discovered to be gay (he only appears in the one episode, if my memory serves), and some of the leads have the opportunity to share that for personal gain. However, even though he is a popular jock who is a bit of a jerk in the hallways, the show makes it clear that the right choice is still to leave the telling of that information up to him and him alone. 

Like I mentioned, it can’t be said that representation was in abundance here - for instance, I don’t believe anything other than straight or gay was presented as a possibility - but any accepting acknowledgement in a faith-centric series was something for me to hold on to in my still-deeply-closeted days. As a final Very Important personal side note, this show brought Judith Montgomery into my life (pictured below on the left), and that feels like it merits a shoutout for being what I consider a rather significant marker in my awakening. 

THE OVERWHELMING CRUSH I HAD - and still have - is one for the books. 

5. Pushing Daisies - This is another show with an aesthetic I adore. The series has such a fun, whimsical energy. The crime-solving! The clothes! The cast! There's a lot to love. It’s the kind of world I wish I could visit... well, minus the evidently rampant murder rate. 

Top 5 Overrated TV Shows

1. Once Upon A Time - *deep sigh* I tried to stick with it for so long. I think I’ve seen five out of the seven seasons in their entirety. It just felt like everything got mired down by excessive (and increasingly convoluted) subplots, often for the purpose of tossing in as many fairytale and/or Disney characters as possible. Plus, quite honestly, there was too much emphasis on romantic love. For a show whose first season involved a curse being broken by [potential spoiler, I suppose] a mother kissing her son’s forehead, I ultimately found myself up to my ears in romantic ships. It reached such a stifling extent that, if you were not particularly attached to those pairings, there wasn’t a whole lot else to entice further viewing. 

2. Under the Dome - I don’t know for certain what the general public opinion of this series was, but it felt like the commercials always featured alleged rave reviews, so I figured I could include it here. I was vaguely interested in Season 1, mainly as a fan of Rachelle Lefevre’s work. Season 2 pulled me in with the introduction of a new townsperson and I threw WAY too much of my heart into that attachment, which backfired when that character was killed. I made quite the spectacle of my heartbreak, so much so that my family doesn’t let me mention this show around them anymore. :P Season 3 was, to phrase it delicately, not a great time. The series did introduce me to a few new-to-me actors, though, so that was cool. 

3. Bates Motel - Even the incentive of learning that the two characters I liked most share a lot of screen time later in the series hasn’t been enough to call me back to this one. I don’t know if it was the pacing that put me off or what, but the prospect of finishing the remaining seasons feels so daunting. There are evidently five seasons in total and I believe I’ve only seen two of them thus far. I will probably muddle through it someday just to see how it goes, but the fact that I am so disinclined to prioritize it made this feel like a fair addition to the list. 

4. Lost - My interest in this series unfortunately waned right before fervent fandom spiked. I don’t have any specific complaints that come to mind about what I saw; I just sort of drifted and then stayed away. Teachers I liked and peers I spent time with were starting to latch on to the show and I couldn’t find even the slightest inclination to give it a second try. However, did I still dutifully read all the latest installments in my friend’s Sawyer Ford and Kate Austen fanfiction when she passed me handwritten copies at lunch? Sure. I was glad it made her happy, even if I was no longer a viewer. 

5. Hemlock Grove - I say this as someone who still mourns the fates of some characters in this show, so I wouldn’t go so far as to claim that the series stopped being able to make me feel anything. I’m just of the opinion that, in some ways, it might’ve been better off stopping at one season. That’s where the book it was based on ends, and things just didn’t feel as cohesive after that. Season 3 especially was - borrowing from my above review of Under the Dome - not a great time. That being said, there are also certain elements from the book that I could’ve done without in the Season 1 adaptation but... well... here we are. 

Top 5 Underrated TV Shows

1. Picnic at Hanging Rock - Another one that won’t surprise followers of this blog. I have rhapsodized about it quite frequently since I found it a little over a month ago. It’s a period piece mystery miniseries with LGBTQIA+ representation, gorgeous costumes, and Samara Weaving. This felt specifically designed to wedge its way into my heart, and I’m quite content with the space it now occupies.

2. Dark - I’m so intrigued by the overlapping timelines with all of the morally gray characters. It’s possible to like one of these people in the timeline where they’re young but dislike them as adults, or vice versa. It also makes me think of Rant by Chuck Palahniuk a little tiny bit with the idea that time travel, specifically tampering with your own timeline, might make you physically and behaviorally unrecognizable to yourself. And the SONG CHOICES! I have gotten some solid new music selections from this series. 

3. Sense8 - I still need to watch the finale. I really do. But I knew it would make me sad so I’ve avoided it for... two years now? Pretty close, I think. The concept is fascinating and the cast is so strong. Plus the cinematography! They came up with some of the coolest ways to depict the link these characters share and what it’s like when they connect over distance. The planning and careful editing it all must’ve taken... I remain in awe. 

4. Penny Dreadful - There were definitely some story/writing choices I didn’t particularly like along the way, but I did get engrossed in the creepy goodness and the performances -- Eva Green’s Vanessa Ives most of all. It left me wishing for more period piece “monster mash” stories, because having all those classic characters in one place was a blast. It also helped me understand why Helen McCrory was once slated to play Bellatrix Lestrange because she can be terrifying. Oh and Sarah Greene in her Wild West outfits? Perdita Weeks with short red hair in fencing garb, and later in all leather with boots and a long jacket? I WAS NOT PREPARED AND I HAVE STILL NOT RECOVERED. I NEVER WILL.

5. Wonderfalls - There’s some cringe-inducing handling of certain representation in the series, but I have such a weak spot for quippy outcasts who become reluctant chosen ones (Joan Girardi in Joan of Arcadia, Wynonna Earp, Jaye Tyler in this series, et cetera). I also really love the sibling dynamics here. They bicker, tease one another, help each other out of trouble, and have rare but genuine heart-to-hearts. Caroline, Lee, and Katie all did such a great job blending their characters’ adult personalities with certain childhood attributes that rise to the surface in the presence of family.  

Top 5 Movies

1. Addams Family Values - I’ve rewatched this movie at least once annually since I found it in Media Play at age 13. Usually, I’ll play it around Halloween or, at the latest, Thanksgiving. It’s mouth-along-with-every-line level ingrained in my memory. I find myself leaning forward in my seat before favorite parts because I’m still that excited to relive them. Why this movie, and why this devotion to such a degree? It’s hard to explain, even to myself. I can tell you, however, that I hold up every other portrayal of the Addams characters to the versions found in this. Everybody in the cast just feels that perfect for their part. 

2. Clue - I was already pretty fond of this movie to begin with, but then my sister got older and claimed it as a favorite of her own, so now she just supplies me with further excuses to watch it repeatedly. It’s also been a bonding piece of media with a couple of close friends and such through the years. It’s incredible to think not everyone in it was the first choice for their roles; what everybody brings to the table is so top-notch that I wouldn’t have it any other way. I also LOVE knowing that it originally went to theaters with different endings depending on which showing you attended. I gather people weren’t terribly thrilled with the stunt back then, but I kinda think some moviegoers would be into that approach these days? Then again, one hit that tried something different tends to start a fad, so maybe I’d end up regretting the suggestion after a while. :P

3. The Craft - This. Movie. Yes, Act III is a major bummer even though I know it’s coming, and I’ll always wish it ended differently. Even so. This. Movie. I tend to headcanon mostly for shows and sometimes books, but The Craft is a beloved exception. I love so much about it: the magic, the music, the clothes, the settings, the dynamics within the friend group, the performances. I had no idea when I first got the DVD at 17 that it would become such a part of my life, but I’m so glad it found its way to me. 

4. Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion - The soundtrack is a glorious ’80s and ’90s treat for my ears. The colorful costumes are perfectly suited to the main characters’ version of the world. There are so many great lines and it feels like everyone is having a lot of fun in their roles. I LOVE HEATHER MOONEY SO MUCH. She’s my awful, scathingly sarcastic, little grungy grump and she fills my heart with joy. 

5. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King - I was pretty sure at least one of the three had to appear on here. I think, if I were to tally them all up, The Return of the King features most of my favorite moments, so it wins the spot. “I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you!”, ‘Edge of Night,’ Éowyn in battle, The Army of the Dead, ‘Into the West’... I end up crying during the end credits every time. So, yeah, ultimately, I would choose the third part of the trilogy if I could only watch one. 

Phew, that’s it! All the questions answered, all the shows and movies listed! Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read it all, and thanks again to @monaiargancoconutsoy for sending in the prompts! <3

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Episode 2: Rebecca...She’s back, I guess?

So I got hella sick this week so it’s...just one update this weekend. The rest of the next update has the caps done but then the copy I was putting together got very distracted about which Founding Father was the hottest and I think that was the Dayquil? I barely know what day of the week it is rn. I think it’s Saturday, is it Saturday?

Anyway, we’re battling that Monocle guy. Gurimo? Yeah his name is Gurimo. I honestly can’t remember him saying his name even once, so thanks Google for the help.

It’s a new season so not only did we suck all the power out of God Cards but now you can’t use them anymore with the new glowing green mechanic. The writers really did just...a lot to make it so God Cards are no longer relevant. Like they buried them so far.

This guy repeats himself quite a lot about being soul hungry? Yeah I watched all of Sailor Moon so like, I’m super up to date on my soul energy anime. I’ve walked this path before I know it well.

(read more under the cut)

Such a shame we can’t read those stats which may just be Hebrew letters in lorem ipsum (note that when Pegasus makes you a card, you don’t get to have stats) but it’s nice to know that, if you wanted to, you could play Rex and Weevil in universe of the show and something would happen.

Anyway, Gurimo lost, his eyes went all glowy red at some point, and decided to go out throwing stuff because it’s Yugioh and you have to throw cards at least 3 times a season, its in the contract.

Don’t think about physics guys, just trust that cards can do this on a roof where there’s no wind for some reason.

And then he went up in a green ball of glory. It was nice of the green beam of soul energy to wait until the impossible card toss was over.

Lol this show and how it just kills people on screen just...all the time. All the freakin time. Can’t show a gun, but murder as many people as you like. It’s OK, his soul is in a paper card so he’s not *really* dead. That won’t terrify children under the age of 10.

So Pharaoh decides to do the tactic of telling a bunch of motorcycle gang edgy kids (adults? not sure about those three) that stealing is Wrong.

They also, youknow, are implicit in murdering Rex and Weevil but youknow, stealing is wrong and the God Cards don’t belong to them and Pharaoh is shook that these kids won’t keep their end of their bargain that whoever wins the card fight keeps the cards.

So basically Gurimo died for freakin nothing.

Welcome back to the fold, Rex and Weevil, apparently this show isn’t done with you yet. I was pretty much done with both of you 3 seasons ago but alas, you will be back, with your raspy as hell voice acting, at the beginning of S5. I am sure of it.

(PS I just noticed I spelled resurrect wrong and I know I should go back into photoshop but like...I’m too sick to care at this moment so maybe I’ll change it in the next week or so I dunno, I’m just gonna post this thing so I can feel like I did something productive today.)

And so these kids decide the police are never going to freakin show up to the rooftop brawl where a guy super died and several children were endangered and a huge beam of light you can see from space went out like a bat signal to the rest of the city of “ps, something bad is happening over here, if any of you adults feel like helping out these four high school drop outs? Nobody?”

First, they decide to keep this horrible thing:

(which second thought is not SO surprising, because Yugi clearly loves hoarding dead people)

And then this other horrible thing:

Why would you keep these? Why would you do this?

I mean Yugi’s got such specific dark tastes that I wouldn’t be half surprised if his closet is filled with dozens and dozens of rat skulls he collected from the subway station.

And then the next day, Yugi decided to just like watch Joey and Tristan dangle Rex and Weevil like puppets. It just seemed super unnecessary.

Like Yugi isn’t even Pharaoh right now but he’s absolutely fine with these guys getting shook around. Yugi is all sorts of gray area in this show and I’m glad that’s never changed although sometimes it’s like “Is Yugi slowly turning into a mob boss? Because I’m down, but also somewhat concerned?”

Anyway, the God Cards aren’t even here anymore so we say farewell to Rex and Weevil who seem just as confused at how the hell you can steal a God Card as we are.

*not entirely sure where Rex and Weevil are from. I’ve been assuming the UK or the US but like...maybe they live here? I don’t even know.

And then Chibiusa--I mean Rebecca showed up.

Ah, remember this plot point from S1? What if she shows up and (according to Bro) Just never leaves?

I’m coming to terms with this. Anyway, Rebecca’s only purpose seems to be as a part of a (love????) triangle (square????) between Yugi and Tea but like...

And maybe this is the Dayquil speaking but...

Is this even weird?

Seriously, they’re family friends, why is this weird? Maybe it’s because one of Rebecca’s core traits is that she’s American and I’m also an American so I don’t even see a problem with Rebecca and how she acts (since she’s a freakin child with a crush on a card-famous person) but like what small child see her friend she hasn’t seen in 2 years and is not going to hug him?

Anyway, Yugi was the worst to not remember this chick. Maybe his brain looks like a box of loose packing peanuts (I say as a metaphor remembering that his brain literally looks like an Escher painting screensaver), but he can’t remember this chick from just 2 years ago that he gave his rarest card to? The chick who’s grandfather had that blue-eyes he gave to Yugi’s Grandfather? The chick who’s grandfather helped his grandfather get that necklace around Yugi’s neck? The necklace he wears every single day and is super cursed by?

How do you forget the Hawkins when they are part of the reason everyone thinks you’re losing your mind?

But I guess she looks older now and got a pair of glasses (bifocals????). She No longer has her hair in pigtails but, I dunno, she looks basically the same to me since she’s still about the same size as Yugi but wtv.

And then Yugioh was like “Listen everyone, we’re very tired of all of your angry reviews, and I see y’all are saying we never do romance, well get ready, we know how to do romance really well, get ready for it, we can make things move faster than a snail in wet cement, just watch.”

Because somehow, after Yugi was the biggest asshole ever to Rebeca, I guess she figured like “well, at least you’re still card famous”

You know what? I have several girlfriends who I am not dating, but, if it’s been a couple weeks since they’ve seen me last, will give me a huge as drunk hug on my arm and go “MY LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND MARRY ME” and like...Again I’m American so maybe this is just my culture here in California?

I’d like to believe that Rebecca is just messing with these people because she can.

Ps I’m pretty sure this girl was 6 last time we saw her but they decided...we better age her up if it’s gonna be a romance but they only made her 12. OK show. Yugi’s pushing 17 at this point so like...barely even logical. I’d say legal but I’m thinking more of just logic at this point because the last time we saw this girl she was holding a teddy bear (which we can guarantee is probably still shoved into her luggage)

...OK, show...

Now listen listen listen. All ships are fine here. I’m not gonna go after shipping because like, c’mon, it’s 2019. If you stan Rebecca and Yugi, go for it, why not? I’ve said it before, and my feelings haven’t really changed, I’m immune to shipping, so I feel absolutely no different with Rebecca and Yugi than I do with Tea and Yugi. I think Tea makes more sense, but that’s not saying very much because literally anyone else on this cast who isn’t related to him could probably work. Go ahead and bring back Mako Tsunami. There’d be a fun pair.

Bro got very excited when I mentioned a MakoxYugi pairing just now ps.

But it really does feel like this ship has the dynamic of the Usagi/Chibiusa/Mamaru ship from Sailor Moon where Usagi was always jealous of small little Chibiusa spending time with Mamaru who was her OWN DAD. Why would you EVER be jealous of a 12 year old girl hanging with your boy...friend? Tea is a 17ish year old ballerina who never, ever wears full pants. She’d have this in the bag if she ever decided to like...do anything with...this. And I don’t blame Tea for never doing anything with “this” because like...look at “this.”

I just don’t think the writing team knows how to write a competent love triangle (square) but...this exists now. They even had Rebecca decide to dress nearly identically to Tea as a demonstration of her devotion but like...it honestly comes off more that this small child just admires Tea. Because she’s 12.

Yugi is just babysitting this girl for his Grandfather and it feels like the writing team just had to have the girls be all catty at eachother. Because it’s a kids show. Gotta have those girls all catty. Can’t let them be friends.

Anyway, back at this museum that these kids visit so freakin often, you’d think they’d change their home address, we meet up with the granddads in question.

Ah, now Ishizu is no longer with us, Exposition Grandpa is here to take the torch. Can’t wait for that.

And I made his font gray because I freakin give up. Grandpa Hawkins might change his font color every episode. I...I’m figuring it out.

And then, every helicopter in Domino shed a single tear.

Wow. I’ve been so mad for so many seasons that they never use a freakin seaplane to cross the ocean that when they actually do I’m like...kind of disappointed?

I mean it’s not shaped like a dragon, but I will take this perfectly acceptable seaplane.

I can’t believe they drew a normal ass plane. on this show.

*Waits patiently for it to turn into a blimp next episode*

Anyway, if you just got here, this is a link to read all the caps in chrono order. There’s over 3 seasons of this. Y’all I’ve done over 100 episodes.

[waterwindow]

@bloodshadow213  Okay! This is actually the second ask I’ve gotten about Al in the last couple days.

 So I guess hopefully I’ll be able to help the Anon as well with the information.

    Al’s story is complicated. And 90% of it took place in V1 which means it’s laced with campy jargon, continuity errors, stories being told out of order and.... “””comics logic”””

WARNING, THIS IS REALLY LONG.

  It doesn’t help that a lot of Wiki data and other online sources on him are completely false. Most of them confuse him with his Astral Twin Alvin and they can’t even get his actual height correct EVEN THOUGH THEY HAVE THE INFORMATION IN COMICS CLEAR AS DAY

if you’re going to WRITE THE ARTICLE could you please at least---   

 read the comics (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

  ahem.

   Despite that he’s one of my favorite characters, and so I’ve spent a LOT of time (YEARS) thinking about him so I’ll be the first to admit my interpretation of events is completely biased. I’ll do my best to separate concrete information from my headcanons.

anywho here’s Albert, HE’S..... HANDSOME.....

   Okay so Albert- he’s got a few split personalities. Mr. Element and Doctor Alchemy. He’s also got the power to transmute elements. Yes- another misconception is that Albert’s gun or the philosopher’s stone is where he gets his powers. And where it was apparently retconned that Al needs the Philosopher’s Stone for most of his existence that wasn’t the case. 

(and personally I still don’t believe that’s the case, because we’ve only ever seen ALVIN actively loose his powers when the stone is taken from him. And that might make sense once I get into who and what Alvin is. But let’s focus on Albert for now)

  Anyhow, yes Albert is a metahuman.

He got his powers from meteoric radiation beamed into his brain as an infant. And his powers and split personalities are linked somehow or somewhat with celestial activity.

Anywho, the Element Gun at the very least is more like a magic wand that he can use to channel his power through. And it’s actually useless in the hands of someone else.

  (I have a few headcanons that the Philosopher’s Stone might also be a meteorite- if not a larger piece of the meteorite that originally mutated him as a baby. Or it could be a figment of his imagination (link to headcanon).)

One thing that does seem consistent is that Albert’s powers are more or less suppressed and he has to assume one of his undesirable personalities to “unlock” them. 

BUT EVEN THAT’S NOT ALWAYS TRUE. Here’s Al saving a firefighter as Mister Element.  

(This isn’t the first time Mr. Element has been heroic, So it’s my headcanon that the Mister Element personality isn’t necessarily ‘split’ with Albert’s. It’s just a more intense version of himself. Because out of Costume, Albert is quiet and mild-mannered.)

ENTER THIS ASSHOLE

So there’s a plot where Eobard needs Albert’s help to get his speed back. But Albert won’t help because his powers are ‘locked’ behind his ‘Evil’ personality. So Eobard makes Albert go and steal stuff (with the random ability to hypnotize people by vibrating that he magically obtains for this single story) And spends the entire adventure trying to impress Al and gaslight him into thinking he likes crime.

And poor Al is just

he’s so done. It’s horrible I ship it

 OKAY ANYWAYS

My ultimate point here before I got distracted fangirling is that despite Barry’s efforts to help, Eobard wins Al over and convinces him that he IS ultimately Evil.

The story ends with Albert momentarily betraying Eobard right as he was commanded to kill Barry. (using the power of self-hypnosis to counter-act Eobard’s influences.) Though convinced he is forever and permanently evil at that point, Barry knocks him out and uses the cosmic treadmill to take Albert to the future where he can be um

‘cured’

of his evil tendencies forever.

COUGHS this isn’t a lobotomy at all

So yeah! Al is ‘’’’cured’’’’

ENTER THIS STINKY BOY

Albert’s been a good. So Alvin shows up and starts running around as Doctor Alchemy COMMITTING CRIME. This is the first story we see him in so everyone thinks Albert is the one running around in costume, of course.

 (Barry, Iris, and Rita are all part of Al’s life but I haven’t gone into them in depth for brevity- because holy shit this is long....)

(yes you read that right, Rita keeps tranquilizers on hand for Albert- for... obvious reasons- earlier in this post you saw he wigged out and caught their car on fire while they were in it. SHE PUTS UP WITH A LOT....)

( Headcanon-talk though. It couldn’t have been easy for Al either knowing he could be called a liar or drugged by his spouse at the drop of a hat. Of course Rita has every right to fear for her life. And she’s done a lot for Al, at the risk of her own safety. But that being said... they do get an off-screen divorce, and I believe it was 100% mutual. 

   This has got to be an unpopular opinion, since the fandom loves Rita and of course I’m sad they wrote her out of the story as well. I love her too! But it couldn’t have been easy for Al either. Living with a mental illness and a distrusting spouse who keeps a weapon on hand to use against you. And it’s clear later on that Albert literally has such an awful time keeping his shit together that he needs much more help than just Rita can provide. RAH RAH BLAH BLAH-)

Anywho,

 they cart Albert off to jail, but Alvin kidnaps him. With every intent to frame him for all the crime he sees fit to do.

According to Alvin, he is Albert’s psychic/astral twin. Born at the same time and with an identical childhood to Albert’s.

Again according to Alvin, they sit on some sort of moral Teeter-totter. Where whenever Albert is good- Alvin feels an uncontrollable urge to be evil. and vice-versa.

Anyways he invented this potion called Desmodium where the fumes can cause people to be susceptible to hypnotic suggestion (Wow Alvin knows about hypnosis too, his entire life is so coincidentally similar to Albert’s) - which is how he was able to use Rita to lie about Albert’s alibi and frame Albert for Alvin’s crimes. He explains that because of their psychic connection, Alvin was able to locate where Albert hid the philosopher’s stone and used it to take up the mantle of Doctor Alchemy.  (in this scene Albert is also under the influence of Desmodium which is why he’s just sitting dead-eyed like a doll)

  So Alvin leaves to try and kill the Flash, and once he believes he has won, he reveals himself to Barry- and obviously he doesn’t succeed, so now Barry knows the truth of what’s going on and is on Albert’s side. Meanwhile, Albert escapes and feels the uncontrollable urge to don the Mr. Element costume to combat his evil twin. (Wigging out from the stress probably- which is why I headcanon that the Mr. Element personality is just a stronger-willed and decisive version of Albert.)

SO THEY FIGHT. It’s glorious. 

Albert saves a firefighter, Barry sees the whole thing. Also Rita and Al meet up off-panel where he explains everything to her and she in turn explains everything to Barry and that’s completely convinced him that Albert is completely innocent and is in fact trying to do the heroic thing.

  SO Albert, Rita and Barry work together and ultimately defeat Alvin. And from there on Alvin takes up the mantle of Doctor Alchemy permanently, becoming an honorary Rogue while Albert goes into retirement.

 (Alvin seems to be the only one who ever hung out with the Rogues at all and had a relationship with them. He seems to have got along well with Lisa - or at the very least she seems entertained by his antics. Whereas she has no patience for perverts, and yet she’s bemused by Alvin’s flirtations when he’s drunk. Also Alvin being in consortium with the Rogues is why I believe Hartley much later comments on how ‘Freaked out’ the Rogues are of Albert. 

Because whO IS THIS GUY? WHERE’D THE FUN REDHEADED AL GO.... Also all things considered, of course he laughed in their faces.)

I’M NOT DONE YET.

VOLUME 2

  So somewhere along the line, Alvin discovers that he isn’t in fact Albert’s astral twin. That he’s actually a completely artificial construct born by the philosopher’s stone (or Albert himself depending on your interpretation) Personality completely made up of Albert’s ‘Dark Side’.

 (WHEN or HOW Alvin came to this realization isn’t explained, but if I had to headcanon it might have been when he somehow survived his ‘death’ in his Blue Beetle cameo.

He attempts to merge with the Philosopher’s stone and it leads to his demise... AND THEN APPEARS AGAIN FOUR YEARS LATER IN THE FLASH. WE CAN READ INTO THIS- THEY DEFINITELY DIDN’T MAKE A MISTAKE.....)

Anyways, back to Flash v2. In volume 40 and 41 Alvin has completely lost his mind- likely due to his identity crises and tries to take over Albert’s life completely. Convincing Wally and Linda (and himself apparently) that he is ACTUALLY Albert Desmond, and not the evil twin.

But Wally figures out that it’s actually Alvin and defeats him.

   And finds Albert locked up in the closet (FOR WHO KNOWS HOW LONG....)

Hopefully not long, Wally postulates that Alvin had been listening to Albert’s phonecalls and wanted an opportunity to get the Flash once and for all. 

 Alvin is taken to jail, but escapes almost instantly, leading to a fight with Wally that doesn’t look like it will end well for him. BUT GUESS WHO SHOWS UP JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME

butt

Fake memories you say, Wally? Would certainly explain why Alvin’s life was so identical to Albert’s.

And that is the end of Alvin, killed/absorbed by his own brother.

....

hey- remember this?

It’s almost like Al’s story could be read as a metaphor for neurodiverse repression to the point of self-destruction. Instead of working with him, they literally lobotomized the ‘evil’ out of him and gave birth to a physical manifestation of how he felt himself perceived by the outside world.

i’ve been reading these comics for too damn long

Anyways! After that, Albert vanished into the wind. He became Doctor Alchemy permanently and denounced the Mr. Element name- calling it an ‘embarrassment’. He became solitary and committed crimes much darker than his previous. (notably, a cop-murdering spree in Gotham).

  Albert is literally unstoppable and the only reason he’s not wreaking havoc is  He’s now characterized by his unhealthy obsession with books and escapism and finding ‘Peace and Quiet’. 

Not only that, he seems to have developed a something of a grudge against Wally. (Either that or he’s too far gone to care about anything any more)

And that’s..... basically the end of the story. There’s some loose ends that got nuked out of existence right before Flashpoint. Something insinuating that Albert may have a larger role to play or knows more than he’s letting on- but it’s literally so vague it could be interpreted as anything. The plot is lost in the wind, unfortunately.

  But If you made it all the way to the end, thank you for listening to my dramatic summery of Al’s story

 Believe it or not, but I wasn’t even half as thorough as I could have been. So I definitely encourage you to read v1 and draw your own conclusions.

[klausesdiego]

the trial of my gender by maggie c.

below is the personal essay i wrote for my creative nonfiction class. it documents and talks about my struggle with accepting who i am and how i identify in terms of gender. please read the whole thing and be kind. 

I sat at my dining room table, in the middle of the night, watching YouTube videos about people documenting their gender transition. It was fascinating to me, much in the same way that an outside observer would see any scientific study or conduction. To me it was simply that; I was an outside force that was interested in learning more about this topic. For research purposes. I was in 8th grade, so my fascinations tended to fringe to the edges of what was normal. I loved British panel shows, documentaries about serial killers, and even How It’s Made videos. Basically, I watched a large variety of videos that a typical 13 year old wouldn’t think to even look up. And one day I stumbled across the genre of gender transition videos. I believe I was looking up hair dying tutorials because this was around the same time I started experimenting with my hair color; regardless, I ended up watching voice comparisons, post-op surgery reports, and just vlogs in general of people venting their gender concerns. It wasn’t then and there that I realized that being transgender was a thing. I knew of it before that moment. But it was at the moment, the dining room deathly quiet and dark as night except for the illumination of my computer screen that I began to question my own gender.

Gender dictates everything in life. Everywhere you go, even from a young age, you are determined your worth through gender. And maybe it’s not as clear and forthright as you may think I’m trying to convey it as, but a closer eye can see that nearly everything in life, is based on gender. From an early age, even preschool or kindergarten, you are divided by gender. They tell the boys to be a group and the girls to be a group. And at that young age it is ingrained in everyone’s brain that gender is a binary. Gender is male or female and there is no inbetween. It won’t be until high school,l at least, that people will learn that sometimes people fall outside of those binary lines. Maybe you were a male who dressed or acted a little too feminine for everyone’s liking. Maybe you were deemed a “tomboy” simply because you prefered board shorts to bikinis. But at the end of the day, the people around you will label you as a gender that is either male or female. And that isn’t the case. If gender is a binary code of 1’s and 0’s, then everything that doesn’t fit within that code is labeled “nonbinary”. Gender non-conforming, transgender, androgynous, agender, genderqueer whatever you want to call yourself, there are things that lie beyond that binary.

Even when I was young, I didn’t know where I was supposed to fall in the gender binary. I knew that because of how I was born that I was deemed female. Assigned female at birth. That’s what some people call it. But it didn’t really seemed assigned. It didn’t feel like a government assigned label, like a social security number. It truly felt like a piece of my identity. At least, partially. When I was a freshman in highschool I finally berated my mom to the point where she let me cut my hair short into what I called a “pixie” cut. I tried to find the most feminine word for it, hoping that it would sway her opinion. This was soon after I learned the wonders of gender transition videos and watching them soon became a daily habit. In the end I looked like Justin Bieber from 2009, but I didn’t care. I was in love with it. My face was too rounded, my lips were too full. But my hair seemed right, finally. When I was a sophomore in highschool I came out to my parents as transgender. I wrote the date down in my calendar but said calendar has long since seen the trash can after one too many times of me cleaning my bedroom out of anxiety-ridden panic. I told them I wish I was born a male. And the funniest part about that? I don’t even think they remember. Sure, we had a good cry and my mom hugged me, telling me she would love me no matter who or what I wanted to become, but after that night, we never spoke of it again. My parents kept leaving little hints here and there that I might be a lesbian, saying things like “whoever you decide to marry” or “your future significant other”, but they never mentioned my gender. I was always going to be their little girl. And for a while, only my closest friends knew about who I was.

For a graphic design class I took in college, we had to construct a poster series about a serious issue that we were concerned about. The professor used his personal example of heroine usage in York, Pennsylvania and shared stories about it affecting his life directly. At this point in my life I was pretty confident in being unconfident in my gender, so naturally, I gravitated towards transgender-related topics. I learned that every 4 days a person who is transgender gets murdered. I made the poster in the style of a calendar with a bouquet of flowers every 4 days with the flowers being the color scheme of the transgender flag. I thought it was somber but albeit fitting. Learning that terrible fact was a shock for me. I knew that people who were transgender were discriminated, harassed, assaulted, and killed. But at that rate? It made me scared for my life. I was glad, for once in my life, that I presented myself as my biological gender. It was my safety net. Plausible deniability.

Rewind to high school, sophomore year to be exact, I started going by a different name, a more masculine name, online in gender support groups. My closest friend to me, the only one who knew about this whole thing, asked me if I wanted her to refer to me as a boy. I told her it didn’t matter. It did matter to me though. I wanted to be referred to a boy but I didn’t want to go through the hoops of having to change everything about my outer life to simply appease the gnawing feeling inside of me. At night, I wished that I could just wake up one morning with a different body and a different background. It didn’t matter to me how or why, I just felt that all of my problems with who I was would be solved if I had been more biologically male.

One of my friends from middle school is transgender. He started transitioning in his freshman year of college and I followed his journey of finding himself through Instagram. He seems genuinely happy and I feel happy for him everytime I see one of his posts. A different friend of mine, from highschool this time, thought he was a lesbian at the time, and it wasn't until he graduated high school that he decided he wanted to transition to male and be who he truly was. Even at college now, I know of people who have found themselves and their gender through time and experience. They say that cancer affects everyone because everyone knows someone who has been a victim of it. But this works the same for the transgender community. Nearly everyone knows someone. And if they say don’t, then they probably know a closeted person.

For a few years after sophomore year, I decided to let my gender identity go to the back burner, after all I had more important things on my plate: college applications and getting my driver's license. It wasn’t until I was a freshman in college, going to my first meeting of the Gay Straight Alliance that I realized I could reinvent myself No one here knew who I was. So when it came time to say my name and pronouns, I said my birth name, a name I still hold very dear to my heart, and the pronouns “they/them”. It may look like dipping your toe in the water to some people, testing to see if it’s the perfect temperature, but to me it was like taking a running jump and going into a cannonball. I was out. No matter what I was. No matter what I identified as. I was not cisgender anymore.

The idea of cisgender became a hot debate online in forum posts all around. Some people saw the shortening of it to “cis” as a slur much to the way that transphobic people would call transgender people tr*nny’s. But, in reality, it was just a label that society had created to say that your birth gender matched up with the gender you identified as. Most people are cisgender and for a lot of people their knowledge ends just there. Maybe they don’t even know the term cisgender at all. Maybe they are blissfully unaware of the struggles that people go through everyday just by existing. Maybe they just don’t care.

My cousin came out as transgender in an odd way. Through Facebook. She just posted briefly that she had begun hormone replacement therapy. She was already known as the extreme left-wing of the family. She had moved out to California to pursue a degree in gender studies. We all assumed she was just gay, not that she was actually a she. My sister-in-law’s sister came out as transgender, deciding to transition in her late 30’s despite having a wife and daughter. It was then that I realized that being transgender, having a different idea of who you are than from when you were born, isn’t just a fad that people on the internet were adhering to. This was a real thing. I felt justified in that moment. And my feelings felt like they had some grounding for the first time in a while.

In the gender support groups online, I was still a pretty active member at this point, I started going by masculine pronouns instead, still keeping my name the feminine one I was given at birth. This raised a lot of questions as to why I wanted to keep my name, but ultimately it boiled down to the fact that my name didn’t bother me that much. In reality, it just seemed to bother other people more. Like they couldn’t imagine someone by the name of Jennifer being a male. But I knew that it didn’t matter what other people thought of me. I started wearing exclusively sports bras, trying to smother my chest as best as possible. I was on my way to becoming who I wanted to be.

A lot of people who are transgender call their birth names their “dead names”. They see it as exactly that. That other person is dead to society. They have reinvented themselves much like how a phoenix rises from the ashes. While I had experimented with other names, more masculine names, as stated above, I felt a deep connection with my birth name and I didn’t see myself changing it anytime soon. But then again, my reluctance to not change my name was not really based on my affections for said name. Rather, it was me, once again, not wanting to go through the hoops and hurdles of having to change my outer life so much to fit the way I saw myself inside. In my head I knew who I was. What did it matter that other people saw something different? At the end of the day I know that by the end of my gender journey if I decide to change my name, or at least go by a different name, I would be perfectly fine with that. But my birth name would always hold a dear part in my heart.

I came out to my parents as bisexual in an unusual way. It was actually before I went to college. We were on a road trip to visit one of the colleges I had been accepted to and we stopped at a Burger King for lunch. It was bisexual awareness day and so I posted something on Instagram about it. My mom turned to me, and just said, “So, bisexual, huh?” And it was left at that. You might have sensed a theme that my parents aren’t the best with continuing communication by now. I think, some strange part of me deep down inside of me knew, my parents were glad that in their eyes I wasn’t “fully gay”. There was still a chance I would settle down with a nice Christian boy and have 2.5 kids with a white picket fence. And there still is that chance. But there is also the chance that I find a nice girl and we settle down, opting for cats instead of children. I remember, years later, talking to my parents in my living room about weddings. My sister was getting married and I dropped the bomb casually that I may end up marrying a woman. My mother, my closest friend in the entire world, started crying at this. It left me shattered in a way that I haven’t fully recovered from. She told me she would always love me but that she didn’t know how she would feel if she had to have my father give me away to a woman instead of a man. I left to my room heartbroken and sobbed myself to sleep that night.

After I came out to my parents as transgender, I did a lot of research about hormone replacement therapy and how parents view their children who were transgender. I would sit on the bus on the way home from freshman year high school and Google terms like “what to do if my child is transgender” or “female to male teen transition”. I was trying to research what I imagined my parents would be researching. In reality, we know that they never mentioned again to me so for all I know, they never did any research. For all I know they erased that day of their lives out of their memory. For me, however, it will be forever ingrained in my memory. It was the first day I started being true to myself. I was truthful when I told my parents I was transgender. I was truthful when I told my parents I wish I would have been born a male. I just left out the part where I didn’t actually want to live my life as a male. Not fully. I was nonbinary. Genderqueer. Agender. Or even, all of the above.

My experience with gender isn’t anywhere over and I don’t see it being over anytime soon. As of right now, I identify as nonbinary, dancing in some weird abyss of not being female and not being male. I see it as more of a burden than an identity. The fact that I can’t pinpoint exactly who I am is frustrating, but a lot of people don’t see it in the same way. That’s the magic of it being a spectrum; there will be people who feel everything at every point in said spectrum. Some people out there will love being nonbinary and the freedom that it gives them. Most people don’t feel like me. Most people don’t see being nonbinary as a burden or something at fault. But for me, I hope to one day find myself and who I truly am, even if that is what I already know.

When I first cut my hair short freshman year of high school, someone asked me if I was gay. Gay, in today's terms, sort of means the same as queer. Anything other than the normal. Gay emcompasses anything revolving around the LGBT community for some people. I told them no. It felt like cutting a piece of myself out. One of the deadliest sins a Christian can commit is denying their Lord. When asked if you are a Christian, a Christian must respond yes, or else they sacrifice their ticket to their afterlife. To me, answering no felt like I was denying myself that ticket to the gay afterlife. If asked that same question today, I would look them in the eye, think of the LGBT heaven I was destined for, and say yes.

[dearchikkie]

À la claire fontaine

•

A/N: First post, hope you all like it!

Pairing: Marichat

Word Count: 1737

A soft singing sound emitted from an open hatch above a young girls bedroom. The soft tune of 'À la claire fontaine' echoed the streets of Paris as the girl continued to sing the song. 

"Il y a longtemps que je t'aime, jamais je ne t'oublierai..." 

The girl finished. Claps filled the room and whoops and hollers followed soon after, "C-Chat! You said you wouldn't make fun of me if I sang it for you!" blushing harshly, Marinette glared at Chat Noir from her desk chair,

"I'm not making fun of you, I liked it! Who knew my purr-incess had such a lovely voice?" Chat wondered aloud. Marinette scoffed at his pun, "Whatever Chat." she mumbled. She twisted her chair around and leant back over her desk and continued to sketch out her designs, "Mari, I'm serious! I liked your voice while you sang. Where'd ya learn that song from?" Chat sidled up next to her and leant down so their heads where directly next to each other, 

"That's a good drawing by the way," Chat pointed down at a part of the drawing, "But double check where you're putting that tie," Marinette groaned again and twisted the pencil from underneath her hand and erased the tie. Dejectedly, she then tried to re-draw it.

"I learnt the song from my maman, she used to sing it to me when I was younger. I had really bad nightmares, so when I woke up from them in the middle of the night she'd sing that to me to calm me down," Marinette shrugged her shoulder and continued on her sketch. "That must've been nice," Chat whispered as he moved away from Mari and plopped himself down onto her bed.

Chat Noir and Marinette Dupain-Cheng had developed a unique sort of relationship. It had started a month ago when Marinette decided to sketch out some designs outside in the sun. She had sat down a park bench and not too soon she had gotten so involved in her drawing, that she hadn't noticed a certain superhero look down from behind her shoulder, "That's some good designs you've got there," he had stated. Marinette had jumped up and out of her seat and spun around to face Chat, "C-Chat Noir? What are you doing here? Is there an akuma?!" Marinette glanced around the park,

"Don't worry! Just went out for a stroll and saw you drawing, I like your designs though! Have you ever thought of submitting them? Or even creating them yourself?" Marinette had blushed a light pink, "That's really nice of you, Chat! I've already made some of them myself, but I doubt someone would want to commission some fifteen year old girls designs." Chat nodded, he saw truth in her words despite resisting to. 

They continued to chat when one of her designs caught his eye, "Hey Mari? what season was this designed for?" Marinette had been taken aback, she hadn't expected that from him, "Oh! Um, spring I guess? The dress is supposed to be light green and the ruffles are whit-"

"Maybe make it light purple instead? My father said that sky or pastel violet is making a comeback for spring and I think It'd look really good," Staring down at the drawing, Chat suddenly realized what he had just said, "I-I mean, never mind!" he let out an awkward chuckle, "I think green would look good too!" Marinette picked up her sketch book and stared down at the design,

"You're... You're right actually! The pastel purple would match the shoes too! Thanks Chat, your dad must be some fashion designer or something," Marinette laughed. Chat's face paled,

"Yeah, that'd be cool right?"

"Oh wait! I have a lot of designs I was planning on making, do you mind if you help me with them? You seem like you really know you stuff," Marinette stared up at Chat. Chat knew he probably shouldn't, his lady might get mad at him for giving to much information about himself and what he knows to just a regular citizen.

"Sure! I don't know that much though, just stuff I've overheard,"

"Great!"

Oops.

A beeping sound cut Chat of from his thoughts, Marinette turned around to face him again, "Oh, that's the alarm. It must be ten thirty already, I guess I'll see you again soon Chat!" Marinette and Chat both climbed up to the rooftop, Chat jumped onto the fence and Marinette waved at him as he jumped away into the streets of Paris. Soon after, Tikki floated up from the rooftop hatch and sat down on on Marinette's shoulder, "I'm tired Mari, let's go to sleep." Marinette nodded and climbed down and closed the hatch behind her, leaving the cold air outside.

Chat leapt from the rooftop of a nearby building into his bedroom, but instead of de-transforming, he simply leant across the window sill and pulled a knee towards his chest. Soon, a knock was heard at the door, "Adrien? Your father wants to speak with you."

"Tell him I'm asleep." muffled voices were heard behind the door, eventually the door creaked open, "Adrien, your father is coming in now." scoffing, Adrian turned his head towards the window and out into the city instead of his room. The door opened and shut from behind him and Adrien soon heard a familliar voice, "Good evening Adrien." Adrien turned back from the window and gave him a sickly smile,

"Good evening, Hawkmoth."

Gabriel Agrèste glared at him from the edge of the room, "Don't call me that. I am your father." Adrien glared right back, "You stopped being my father the minute you became a villain." Gabriel reproached him with pitiful eyes, "Adrien, please-"

"You can't have my miraculous!" he screamed, his shouts echoed the room and Gabriel stopped in his tracks, his eyes cold and sharp now, "If you knew why I needed them you wouldn't be acting so immature." Adrien rolled his eyes. Gabriel sighed, "At least de-trasnform. You need to let your kwami rest-"

"Oh, and let you get my ring right of my finger?" Adrien hid his hand behind his back, "I'm sick of this, I'm not sleeping here tonight. Not now that you've returned from your business trip." Gabriel reached out and tried to grab Adrien's arm. He flinched and pushed his hand away. Adrien stretched his legs then leaped out the window.

Knock... Knock... Knock...

"Marinette? I think a certain cat's knocking on your door," Yawned Tikki, eyeing the hatch as Marinette swiveled around on her chair, and got up and opened the hatch, "Chat?-" Chat leapt inside her room and collapsed onto her bed, "Chat. What are you doing?" Chat turned away from her and closed his eyes, "Chat-" she pushed his back towards the edge of the bed, "You can't sleep here tonight, I have school!" he didn't move, "Chat!" still.

"You." Marinette ran across her room and stopped at her desk,

"Can't." she leant down and bent her legs,

"Sleep." she took of in a run,

"Here!" she put her hands out and pushed Chat straight of the bed and onto the floor.

"Aah-!" Chat landed on the floor with a 'thud', "Mari, just let me sleep," droned Chat, attempting to get back on the bed, "Sorry Chat! But I have school tomorrow, y'know. The thing teenagers attend to learn..." Marinette spoke as if she were talking to a three year old, "Why can't you just go sleep at your house?" Chat's yes widened and he sat straight up immediately, catching Marinette of guard. "You're... You're right." Chat stood up, shaking his head. "Chat? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" Chat lashed out, "I'm... Fine. I promise," Marinette nodded solemnly, "Can I at least have a blanket? For the journey?" Marinette glared at him then walked over to her closet. She got on her knees and rummaged around, finally pulling out a thick woolly blanket and chucking it at Chat, "Now get out." Chat gave Marinette a crooked smile, "Thanks princess," then leaped out the window.

Later that night, Marinette lay awake in her bed, guilt eating away at the tips of her feet. Maybe she shouldn't have kicked Chat out, she never knew what was going on at home. When Marinette looked back, Chat never seemed to have anything positive to say about his home life. She shuddered. She tried to shut her eyes closed, but she couldn't help imaging Chat, lying all alone on the road as people walked by and mocked him. 

"Marinette? Why aren't you asleep?" Tikki floated up to Marinette, rubbing sleep away from her eyes, "I feel guilty about kicking Chat Noir out, maybe I should've let him stay?"

"Oh Marinette, don't worry about him! I know his identity, and based on what I know he should be right back at home, sleeping away." Tikki's words immediately put Marinette at ease, but the sad smile Chat Noir gave to her before he left still lingered in the back of her mind, "Why don't you sing that song you told us about! The one you mother taught you?" Marinette grinned and nodded. "Sure Tikki," Marinette closed her eyes, and slowly hummed the serene tune;

À la claire fontaine, M'en allant promener J'ai trouvé l'eau si belle Que je m'y suis baigné

l y a longtemps que je t'aime Jamais je ne t'oublierai

Sous les feuilles d'un chêne, Je me suis fait sécher Sur la plus haute branche, Un rossignol chantait

Chante rossignol, chante, Toi qui as le cœur gai Tu as le cœur à rire, Moi je l'ai à pleurer

J'ai perdu mon amie, Sans l'avoir mérité Pour un bouquet de roses, Que je lui refusai..." Marinette yawned, and opened her mouth to continue, but instead felt her lidded eyes droop down, and felt herself fall asleep.

"-Je voudrais que la rose, Fût encore au rosier, et que ma douce amie, fût encore à m'aimer," Chat Noir quietly finished the song, ending the lyrics on a deep note. He perked his ears towards the pink hatch, and when he heard nothing, assumed the bluenette below had finally fallen asleep. Sadly, he had not heard what or who she was talking to before, but fortunately could easily hear her smooth voice sing the lyrics to his new favourite song. Sleeping on Mari's rooftop balcony was not his ideal place of residence, but if he had to sleep on anyone balcony:

It would have to be hers.

[freckliedan]

(for context, i made a post asking if this anon would b comfy telling me if she was a part of the lgbt community because i would be able to answer more quickly & with more nuance if i knew! my response would’ve been very different for the first ask if it had come from a cis/het person)

hi b!!!!!!!! ty so much for sending me this ask! this is a conversation i’ve had with friends a number of times & i think it’s really good to talk about so i’m really glad to have the chance to talk about it on my blog!

(under the cut because this got long)

i really feel you on this entire situation, tbh- i really hate to assume people’s sexualities, especially people who i don't actually know, bc doing that enforces gender roles & stereotypes so much of the time. especially when it's straight people doing the assuming? like, straight people talking about having good "gaydar" for me feels like them talking about being good at stereotyping people based on mannerisms etc and it makes me so fucking uncomfortable!

i'm 100% of the opinion that unless someone has the agency in telling people they're lgbt (like, they get to come out on their own terms, or they're so comfortably out that you'd maybe hear them referred to with pronouns besides he/she or hear about a same-gender partner when hearing about them in conversation)? nobody should be making a definitive assumption or trying to find proof or support of any perspective on their sexuality. people should get to be as closeted or as out as they're comfortable being, bc more than anything all lgbt people deserve to feel safe.

that said? i feel like lgbt ppl have actual "gaydar" but that it's not the same thing straight people say "gaydar" is. i think that for lgbt people, it has as much to do with being able to identify homophobic or transphobic straight or cis people (bc there are transphobic lgb folx, why do people. DO that) and being able to identify what straight/cis people are safe to be around as it does being able to find other lgbt people. it's more of a survival mechanism than a way of identifying people who are different, the way it functions for straight people.

so like? idk. over the past few years my concept of whether it's okay to speculate about a celebrity's sexuality has shifted a little? when i was in high school & recently out of it, i was more firmly against the idea that someone could tell if xyz celebrity wasn't straight, and super firmly believed that the only way you could know was if they said as much in words.

so what changed?

i experienced the world more, and i've learned so much about the lgbt community and about myself.

one of the big turning points for me was kristen stewart; i was never a super huge fan of hers, but i saw posts fairly often speculating that she and alicia cargile were together. not posts by like, news outlets or anything, posts by other wlw who were saying 'i see the way that kstew is dressing and acting and what she & alicia cargile are sharing of their relationship with the public and news articles keep calling them live-in gal-pals etc but that's exactly how i dress and behave and how my relationship with my girlfriend looks and how people treat our relationship when they're refusing to acknowledge the fact that we're lgbt."

also at the time i started seeing a lot of posts that were saying that the speculation was shitty, and for a hot minute i felt awful for seeing and reblogging posts & hoping/believing that they were girlfriends. the next wave of discourse tho was about how it was okay to speculate and hope if you were just an individual who was also lgbt, and how it was only shitty when it was invasive paparazzi and tabloids who had a platform that could actually disrupt her life and put pressure on her to come out. it was about power; one lesbian or bi or pan girl who was hoping a celebrity they looked up to was like them vs a business that doesn't have any investment in this besides to gain money/readership off of a celebrity's potential identity that had every right to keep their silence and privacy? it's two entirely different things.

i also went back to college in 2016, and realized that like. yeah it's shitty when straight people stereotype and assume things about people, but a lot of lgbt people don't want to be perceived as straight and intentionally dress and behave in ways that signal the fact that the're lgbt. i'm not a scholar on any of this; this is all from my lived experience. but i think it might be called flagging? i've seen the word a few times & just googled it & it seems right, even though i haven't read any of the articles for sure.

essentially it's a way of signaling to other lgbt people "hey i'm here and i'm also lgbt" without really having to disclose that info to all the straight people around you as well. and like, heteronormativity is a hell of a drug, you know? a lot of straight people are almost unwilling to pick up on the signals that someone's lgbt.

an example i can think of is like, lgbt people using non-gendered terms to refer to their significant other or any exes around straight people; it's not lying, and it leaves the opportunity for any other lgbt people present to maybe connect with the person who's doing the pronouns dance at a later point in time in a one on one setting.

another example would be like, butch and gender nonconforming wlw making their identity clear in the way they dress and behave? the song ring of keys from the musical fun home is about a young girl seeing a butch lesbian for the first time and going !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! same!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! even without having the words. it's lgbt people broadcasting their identity for other lgbt people, not for straight people. it doesn't get seen or talked about as much because of that, but that doesn't make it any less real.

so how does this relate back to dnp?

i'm firmly of the opinion that the're like, doing this. they're living their lives without the complete self-censorship they used to have and because of that openness a lot of lgbt ppl see them, we see the ways in which dan and phil are quietly sharing the fact that they're not straight with us, and i think it's okay to accept that for what it is.

like? i genuinely am willing to argue that dan came out in his diss track. you look at that, and you look at him talk about labels in a liveshow (this video genuinely helped me a lot while i was going through the process of finding the right labels for myself) and you look at all of trying to live my truth or the fact that in dan's rebranding video part of the old branding that was going up in flames was gender rolls (i still have a screenshot of that on my phone). it's also in the countless ways he alludes to being attracted to men, and the ways he rejects a lot of the tenants of masculinity that society prescribes in the ways he dresses and presents himself to the world; that's not an inherently lgbt thing to do, but i think it's true that a majority of lgbt ppl experience gender more consciously than straight people do.​

i'm not going to lie and say i'm aware of as many specific details in regards to phil that indicate his sexuality-i do know less off the top of my head, but not because i don't love phil, just because dan means more to me personally in regards to my queerness and the ways i navigate my identities. phil also tends to share way less of himself with the internet than dan does? like, we know a lot of specifics about who dan is and who dan has been but despite knowing a lot of fluff about phil, we know less substantial information and that's super fucking valid and i love his double aquarius sagittarius rising enigmatic ass exactly as is. and i know i have things in my he likes boys tag about both of them, including (i think) at least one masterpost about phil.

which like, doesn't even bring us to the fact that i'm so sure they're together, too? it's not even like. things like the vd*y v*d, though that was still findable on tumblr when i joined the phandom in 2012.

i'm sure because i can look at dan and phil in the present, and the ways in which they function in eachother's lives, and the things they've said about their future together-the concept of a forever home, of getting a dog together,  the way that when either of them talks about a very old version of themself they talk about having kids & when you combine that with the idea of a forever home you kind of are left with only one implication- i look at all of those things and the ways they compare to my life, as a queer person in a long term committed relationship. and i know. i’m sure about them.

and i could go on. the thing that really gets me is how dan and phil, by all intents and purposes, hit all three sides of sternberg's triangle in his triangular theory of love; they've got the commitment of a shared life and they've talked about their shared future, they've got the intimacy of knowing and supporting each other for nine years and the close knowledge they have of each other is so great in volume that it's been the focus of what, two videos (the friendship test ones) and (spoilers, minorly) a section of ii? and in the way they look at each other, and in a lot of implications we've picked up on over the years, the passion is there, too.

they've fuckin got that good good consummate love, babeY.

they also constantly answer all of each other's bids, as per gottman's research/theories on successful relationships. i'm not gonna get too far into that, but it's what my like a sunflower tag is for.

and gosh, i've gotten rather off topic again. my apologies, b.

i guess the point is that like. as a queer person in a long term relationship, it's really easy for me to look at dan and phil and be sure that they're together. and i don't feel bad, anymore, thinking about that and speculating about it; i think it's ok for lgbt individuals to hope that the people they look up to are like them, and to talk about that hope.

and it would be nice, if dan and phil came out someday. stressful because of the fan reaction, i'm expecting a full meltdown if/when it happens (i'm leaning towards when, i think they want to get married someday).

but for me, i'm already sure. they've already given us so much and they don't owe us anything, we aren't entitled to them disclosing their identities, but i think they've already told us in subtle ways, a hundred times over. so my conscience is clear and my heart is sure, b. i hope yours can be too.

[problemsofabooknerd]

My Personal Sexuality Journey

Pride Day 6!

Check out the intro to my Pride project here.

For the past few days, I have mainly been discussing books on this blog. Which is, hey, the topic of the blog so that makes sense! But today I want to get a bit more personal. I identify as a lesbian, but that has not always been the case, so today we’re going to get into the nitty gritty of my sexuality journey. It’s... long.So, I hope you’re all ready. 

So, to begin with, I am not one of those “well, I’ve just always known” sort of people when it comes to being hella queer. I grew up in a hyper-religious area in Utah, and we were not exposed to a lot of queer content in any variety. My parents were always cool with The Gays, but it wasn’t a topic that was really openly discussed. I think Glee was possibly my first exposure to a visibly queer character, and that show started when I was in high school. So, basically, I didn’t have any inklings I might not be straight until college. But first, let’s go back to high school a bit.

When I was a junior in high school I managed to nab a boyfriend for about a minute and a half. The thing about being attracted to girls when you don’t really know that’s an option is that, at least in my experience, you start to assume attraction must just feel like ah, I would very much like to be friends with that person. This is probably what a crush is. I’m not saying that’s not an authentic way to crush, because I definitely think it is, but when I was young and sure of my heterosexuality, I rationalized that the desire for friendship and hanging out was actually me wanting a relationship. 

I hung out with lots of guys in high school. They were cool, awkward, nerdy guys and I liked being friends with them. I also knew they liked me, so I was willing to go on dates or to dances should one of them ask.Which is how I wound up with my high school boyfriend. He was sweet, we shared a sense of humor, and I loved being around him. Shockingly, it was whenever he wanted to move past friendship activities that I felt stifled and uncomfortable. I didn’t understand what it was at the time, that fear or that resistance, but I knew that I couldn’t continue forwards in a relationship. I ended it, frustrated because I felt like I was losing a close friend rather than a romantic partner. It was a ridiculously confusing and frustrating time all around.

After high school, I went on a date with a friend’s cousin. He was what I perceived as my type, awkward and nerdy, and I knew he liked me. We went to his place after dinner and he tried to make out with me while I argued that he was missing important plot points of the first episode of Sherlock. He was shoving his tongue in my mouth and I was upset because they were dropping hints on screen that would be revealed later and oh my god when they break down the mystery at the end you are going to be so confused.

So.... that was one of the gayer situations of my gay life.

In college, I moved out of Utah and across the country to New Jersey where I attended an exceedingly queer liberal arts college. The new friends I was making were - at least I assumed at the time - the first gay people I had ever met. This later turned out to be absurd, as I’m not the only person at my high school who has since come out. But here they all were! Queer, vibrant, and proud. And I was so excited to be a part of a world where you could be who you are, even though I knew I was definitely, absolutely, without question the Straightest™ person I knew. 

Cut to me meeting a girl my second day of orientation. Cut to me suddenly being thrust into a friendship a lot more intense than any other friendship I had been a part of. Cut to the end of Freshman year.

My second year, I became roommates with The Girl. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll stop being all weird and secretive. Most of you know I fell for my roommate, and that her name was Janel. But my college self, who was confused by attraction and by what the intensity of certain feelings towards people meant, had no idea. 

Despite the fact that the people around me were telling me that what I was describing was clearly romantic, I didn’t want to admit to myself they might be onto something. I was even confronted a few times about how I identified at school. Here I was, this girl with short hair who was super close to her roommate. Like, we held hands. It was, um, super gay. It was super, super gay and I wouldn’t talk about it.

 I knew I might want to kiss her. I also knew I didn’t want to be one of Those Girls that makes out with their queer friend and then backs out immediately. 

See, because the thing was, I knew she wasn’t straight. And that added whole other levels to the situation. I knew if I kissed her she wouldn’t mind. And that was a big, open possibility that scared me right to the back of the questioning closet. 

What if I kiss her and I don’t feel anything?

What if she wants to kiss me back and I hurt her?

What does it mean if I want to kiss her?

What if I kiss her and I do feel something?

Am I gay?

Am I bi?

Is it just her?

What if I hurt her what if I hurt her what if i hurt her?

That’s basically the first semester of sophomore year in a nutshell. And then, one night, things reached a tipping point of sorts. We were playing Friends trivia and drinking absolutely foul sweet tea vodka and lemonade. We were beyond drunk, and when she asked how I would feel about her kissing me, I said she should.

When I woke up the next day, I was scared. And I panicked. Because it had definitely meant something, but that meant I wasn’t straight. And I didn’t know how to deal with a self that wasn’t straight. I had no blueprint for that, so I said it didn’t mean anything. And I hurt her.

The thing is, I always take time coming to terms with things. I’m not necessarily scared of change, but I’m scared of becoming someone new. Because I don’t know that person, and I’m intimidated by people I don’t already know. I’m scared of telling others the ways I have changed, and forcing them to relearn me. It feels like a process, changing part of your identity, and that process was too big to conceptualize. So I made bad choices, I ran, and I spent a month and a half of winter break trying to decide who I was.

When I came back to school, I felt like I had a new version of myself I could live with. My personal identity, the words I used, they didn’t matter. What mattered is that I loved her, and I wanted to be with her. Thus began the portion of my life where I identified as idk I guess I’m just attracted to pretty people. I think I stole that one from Orange is the New Black, probably because that show is terrified of saying the word B-I-S-E-X-U-A-L. Shhh, don’t let the showrunners know that it’s real and out there!

After a while, I got into the bi pride side of tumblr. It vibed with me and how I felt about myself. Part of being able to accept my same gender attraction came from Korrasami - two bi girls who fell for each other in Legend of Korra. It came from reading miles of Dean Winchester is bi meta. And finally, after a few months, I was able to accept that label for myself. I had a boyfriend in high school and I thought David Tennant was pretty, which meant of course I still had to fit my relationships with men somewhere into my sexuality. I was bisexual, and I wore that word with pride.

It took a really long time to not identify as bi anymore. I mean, when I semi-came out to my grandmother I was still using the word “bisexual” to describe myself. I wouldn’t tell anyone else that word, anyone but Janel, but it felt like maybe it was a place for me to meet in the middle. To still know myself, but to know myself better. I could be the person I was, but I could also be someone new.

For a while on YouTube I was like ~undercover gay~. Like, in a “everyone knows” way but also in an “I don’t talk about it” way. My family watched my channel, and I wasn’t ready for that conversation. I adored my girlfriend, but there was still this constant underlying terror that I would hurt everyone around me if I changed again. If I told my family my identity, and it changed, I didn’t know how anyone would be able to deal with it. I didn’t know if I would be able to deal with it. 

I was also terrified of the word “lesbian”, but like that’s a whole other list of internal shit I don’t want to get in to because this post is long enough as it is. 

When I finally started to use the word “gay”, it felt like a step in the right direction. But it was also a tiptoe. I said it, terrified people would come out of the woodwork asking about my past relationships and interest in men. That they would confront me for thirst posting about popular tumblr dudes on my fandom blog. I whispered the word and it maybe felt right, it maybe felt like a little zing in my chest, but it also felt like leaving a part of myself behind. Maybe a part I wasn’t comfortable with and never had been, but still this definite chunk of who I had been was just no longer a part of how I was identifying myself.

And that’s fucking terrifying. 

Gradually, lesbian became my word. It became a word that encapsulated why I never felt fully comfortable around men. Why I didn’t want relationships with them. It became an affirmation for the fact that I had always had an underlying attraction to women. I felt more confident when I saw Willow Rosenberg, a girl who had a boyfriend in high school, identify confidently as a lesbian in college. Because that was my story and it was ok for that to be my word. It helped me feel more confident in my attraction to women in general, and in that confidence I was able to recognize a difference in how I felt about men.

My sexuality journey was long, and it was difficult. It involved trying things that were scary, and stepping out of a self I knew to find a self I loved so much more. The confidence I found in grasping and being able to explain new parts of my identity made me happier and stronger than I had ever been in my life. Lesbian is my word. I use gay, I use queer. They are all me. But when I walked at Pride this year, it was a lesbian flag I had pinned on. Because it encapsulates me and makes me feel safe.

It makes me feel proud.

Now, real fast at the end here, a couple of notes. Bisexual was a stepping stone word for me, but that doesn’t mean it’s a stepping stone sexuality. It was a word I needed to help me figure out who I was, but that does not remotely encapsulate what being bisexual is. I have known girls who used lesbian and then knew that the word bisexual was more theirs. I have seen people who always knew that bisexual was their word. So I am in no way putting my experiencing of identifying as a person with multiple gender attraction on some kind of all-around temporary status. Bisexual peeps, your word is valid and so are you.

Also, my word doesn’t mean I eliminate trans folks. The word lesbian includes trans women, and I’m not here to have an asinine argument with anyone about that. Just putting it out there.

This was a long one, but sexuality is so goddamn difficult and it took years for me to start to learn about myself. And I’m still learning. Maybe I’ll find a new word someday that fits like a glove, and that will be scary but it will also be okay. And if you don’t have your word yet, and maybe you don’t want a word, that’s okay too. The most important thing is finding a way to be happy with yourself, whatever way you choose to package it. It’s about doing research, trying scary things, and maybe feeling like you can find a way to know yourself a little better one day at a time. 

Alright, that’s where I am going to wrap up. Thanks so much for reading about my messy process of self discovery, and feel free to share your own stories too - in a reblog or a message. You are all beautiful and your experience is valuable. I’m just here to share a little bit of mine. 

[janiedean]

I saw this post on my dash "people freaking out about the fact that trans people can’t serve in the military is sooooo funny omg like you can’t even serve in the military if you have diabetes and you expect them to accept someone who needs pills and shots weekly so they don’t threaten suicide ok good luck man" What do you think?

well, according to bloomberg:

Care for transgender people in the military would add $8.4 million to the total medical costs of all active duty service members, according to an analysis last year by RAND Corp. That's a little more than 0.1 percent of what the military spends on medical care for all service members. To put that in perspective, it's about 0.0014 percent of Donald "I'm the best 140 character writer in the world" Trump's total defense budget proposal.

The report was requested by the Department of Defense under President Obama. Trans people were only allowed to serve openly starting last year.

There is little concrete data on how many trans people serve in the military, and the Department of Defense didn't respond to a request for comment. Other recent attempts to figure out how many transgender people serve in the military have come to far larger estimates—raising the possibility that Donald "Some, I assume, are good people" Trump's decision to bar transgender people from serving in the military at all could eliminate the nation's single largest employer of transgender Americans.

A 2014 study estimated that 15,500 trans people were currently serving in the U.S. military. The Williams Institute, a think tank at UCLA School of Law that researches gender identity, came to that figure using a 2011 survey of 6,546 transgender Americans. Around 20 percent of that survey's respondents said they had served in the armed forces. There are currently 1.3 million active-duty personnel in the U.S. military and an additional 800,000 in reserves.

Using various extrapolations based on population estimates and rates of service for men and women, the Williams researchers concluded that 8,800 people were in active duty and another 6,700 were in the National Guard and U.S. Army Reserve. Trans people, the Williams report suggested, might even join the military at a higher rate than other groups.

"It’s a consistent finding in studies that have been done across a variety of different data sources that trans people serve in the military at higher rates than the general population," said Jody L. Herman, a co-author of the Williams study. She cited academic interviews conducted with transgender servicemembers that underscored the appeal of the military's perceived hypermasculine environment.

But, as Herman added, "trans people want to serve in the military for the same reasons as everyone else wants to serve in the military."

Researchers from RAND used much lower numbers to estimate transgender-related health-care costs, putting the total ranks of active transgender service members between 1,300 and 6,600 and concluding that only about 130 might seek gender-related surgeries. But even if the number of transgender service members is closer to the Williams Institute's estimate, the cost for their medical care would be a negligible share of the military's total health budget.

The Veterans Health Administration pays for pre- and post-operative care for transgender service members but not for gender-confirmation surgery itself. The military began paying for that surgery last year through Tricare, the health plan for troops and their families. This month, Congress narrowly rejected proposed legislation from Representative Vicky Hartzler, a Missouri Republican, that aimed to stop the military from providing transgender-related medical care.

Donald "When did we beat Japan at anything?" Trump's declaration on Twitter doesn't stop it, either; it would take an executive order or some other official action to change the practice. "The tweet obviously is not policy," says Evan Young, president of the Transgender American Veterans Association and a retired Army major who served for 14 years and completed his transition after leaving the military. "It is the president tweeting whatever he feels like he wants to tweet."

Beyond the military, more health insurers are covering medical care related to gender transitions. Medicare, the federal health insurance program for people 65 and over, refused to cover gender-confirmation procedures until the exclusion was struck down in 2014; coverage is now determined on a case-by-case basis. Medicaid programs in 12 states and Washington, D.C., must explicitly include gender transition care, according to the Movement Advancement Project, a research group that promotes equality for gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people. More private employers are expanding medical benefits to cover transition-related care as well.

Some health economists have made the case that it's cost-effective, meaning the benefits to society outweigh the costs. If all insurers covered medically necessary services, including hormone replacement and surgery, it would add just 1.6¢ to the average monthly health insurance premium, according to an analysis published in the Journal of General Internal Medicine last year that modeled the potential costs and benefits of expanding such coverage.

Health care is not the only benefit that trans military personnel would lose if banned from service. There's also evidence that trans people are at a higher risk of poverty and unemployment than other Americans. As a group, trans workers aren't protected from job discrimination in many states. The same 2011 survey of trans Americans found unemployment rates at twice that of the population as a whole, and trans workers were nearly four times more likely to have a household income of less than $10,000.

so what I think given the data:

trans people are already in the military and being trans isn’t the same thing as being diabetic but never mind

the amount of money the military spends/would spend on them is negligible and given how much money the US military has it’s really fucking laughable that now the problem is covering partially for trans people’s surgeries

the military already accepts them

not all trans people ‘threaten suicide if they don’t have their weekly pills’ like what fucking mess is that pls come on, some people don’t transition for whichever reason even if they’re trans and guess what they function anyway and cope with their disphoria but okay then, again

seems to me like someone here is classist af since they don’t know that there’s that many trans ppl in the military and that, quote, But, as Herman added, "trans people want to serve in the military for the same reasons as everyone else wants to serve in the military." which as far as I know, is... HEALTHCARE, BENEFITS, GOING TO COLLEGE AND GETTING OUT OF POVERTY, and not only trans ppl do that, so like... congrats, you don’t even know why people in your country join the army and you want to have opinions on whether trans people can join

never mind that they’d still join, they’d just be closeted

I don’t like the military in any country esp. the US but if you deny X group to enter it then you’re making a precedent and good luck when the next people who won’t be able to get into it will be lgb (without the t) and then whoever else. who will most probably come from poor backgrounds. because that’s where the US army recruits most. rich kids don’t need to go into the military to pay the bills or get out of their town or pay for college or have healthcare. and given how tumblr reacts to it, it shows they have no clue and honestly, like, shut the hell up if you can afford to judge someone who joins the military for the benefits that they can’t reach otherwise when most of the time they also are bombed with propaganda;

tldr: tumblr of the flies is a people full of people who need to stop giving unnecessary air to their mouth, thanks very much

[angryinterrobang]

I'm so so interested in your views of Kyoshi's bi-pansexuality. What do you think about Kya and her being in the closet despite the Air Nation being accepting??

Anon is referring to this post where I kvetch about fandom’s portrayal of Kyoshi as a primordial valkyrie with Báthory bathing habits and not a breathing human being. Kyoshi could have been so many interesting things with interesting flaws to go with them! Maybe in her early days learning the elements the people in power treated her differently because she was a peasant from the ass end of nowhere. Maybe she didn’t always like being so tall. Maybe she was bitten by a vampire. And maybe, just maybe, if her society told her being gay was wrong she didn’t instinctively know to jump for joy when a smiling woman gave her goosebumps. Ya’know. A person.

As for Kya I’m not sure. I’m working off of spoiler content. Of what I’ve seen I’m okayish with it- because to me it didn’t seem like she was fully closeted so much as very careful. The glass closet lots of people on the rainbow spectrum use.

(Note: I am discussing this from a Watsonian perspective. There’s a larger Doyalist conversation about how this comic portrays the Four Nation’s response to queer identities. I am not a fan of how simplistic everything is or how. Hmm. Not Western exactly. Just odd. Both Water Tribes have the same views? The entire Earth Kingdom has always had the same view through all of history? If you say so.)

Back on topic-

My generation of the family is batting a solid 50 to 75% notstraight™. We’re all very accepting- my grandmother doesn’t always understand and my father often asks earnest invasive questions of most everyone, but our homes are a safe space. We spend a lot of time laughing.

BUT. We still live in what the press likes to call a purple state. This means out there in the world there are places where it’s unsafe to be different. Liberal college campuses can be very freeing- but then you step out of them and you just don’t know. You don’t know if it’s safe to hold your lovers hand.

“Some people out there… are afraid of what’s different. And sometimes they want to hurt people like Stef and me. So, every time we’re out and I want to hold Stef’s hand, but I decide not to… I get mad. Mad at the people who want to hurt us, but mad at myself too. For not standing up to them. The thing is… if you’re taught to hide what makes you different, you end up feeling a lot of shame about who you are. And that’s not okay. There is nothing wrong with you for wearing nail polish. Just like there’s nothing wrong with me for holding Stef’s hand. What’s wrong is the people out there who make us feel unsafe.”

In the same way, from that clip I saw, it seems Kya was being careful with who she told. When she saw a young couple she made sure they knew she was a safe resource but otherwise; Republic City, the world she went wandering in, was predominantly Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom where she couldn’t be certain. Especially as the Avatar’s daughter with the rise of invasive modern media.

The Air Nomads might have been more accepting but they were not in control of this wider world. I don’t see how the Air Nation is that relevant when they are less than a hand full of years old.

Maybe Kya came out to her parents, who loved her and supported her, but still felt a lump well up in her throat when her Water Tribe Healing sifu talked about “family values”. Maybe her Air Nomad philosophies kept her moving around the world and it was hard to find a safe space over and over and over again. She states straight up that she’s had girlfriends; maybe they were longterm. Maybe she didn’t always correct a stranger when they called them “such good friends”. Maybe she had her heart broken a time or two, decided to take a break, only for friends to suggest she’d gotten over her phase.

At the time of the show she’d moved to the Southern Water Tribe where “People like to keep family matters private. No one’s going to disown you for coming out…” so maybe Kya decided to be more subtle than she had in her own hippie communities. Maybe she wears that necklace so people assume she’s a widow and leave her alone.

We just don’t know. I’m not going to shame a fictional character in a world that has just been established as homophobic for not inventing the rainbow pin.

[decoding1432]

The Art Behind Manipulating & Guarding a Fandom (p. II)

Here it’s the second part guys, take time to analyse it...

NOTE: *Most of the posts I direct you to, are SHORT & in my opinion not too dense to read. In fact, the great majority are Q&As. I’ll identified every post with a letter, it means that throughout the various parts you’ll see them repeated, so no need to read one twice*

If you missed or want to re-read the first part here it is: The Art Behind Manipulating & Guarding a Fandom (p. I) – decoding1432.

Now, the astroturfers & how to identify them.

I would say that identifying some astroturfers with exactitude is very hard to do, I mean we are talking about professionals. Not even the directioners who have spent years dealing with them are able to fully assure when they are being invaded by some. Nevertheless they have learned to recognise them & some types are obvious.

*link A*

Basing it on an article by The Consumerist, astroturfers are primarily known for two things:

Vague or anonymous identities. The identities of the people, or     group of people, are very minimal or completely anonymous. Their profiles     would either be generic, unorganised or have few or no posts. If you’re     tech savvy and use tools such as Statcounter, you might notice that they     frequent certain pages that cater to certain topics and/or suspicious     recurring IP addresses.

A specific discussion path is  followed/repeatedly brought up. Since one of the main goals of astroturfing is to support one side and discredit another, most  astroturfers usually follow a certain discussion path,

ie. Opening -> Segue -> Main Topic Being Pushed

I’ll be using their examples to show you.  I’m sure Camren blogs will be like: “relatable”. A lot of shipping involved. Try to exchange “Larry” for “Camren” & “Ziam” for another ship– Laucy, Norminah, Tyren, whatever you want– I promise it won’t become tedious (I’ll keep it the OG way, to avoid confusions). Here I present you what could be the various types of astroturfers (a.k.a. sneaky little bitches):

Example 1: *link E*

“You astroturfing trotters with your generic anti messages are such a fail. If you really read this blog you would also know I don’t “ship”. Never have. I support two couples I believe have been harshly closeted. Why would that upset anyone? Even if you disagree, I’m all about the love baby. I’m all about consenting adults being able to love each other openly, happily and free from hate and discrimination. What kind of a monster takes issue with that? You can ponder that while you lick your wounds and trot to the next blog to spread your venom. You’re a real credit to humanity making excellent use of your time”

As I see it, our first specimen is the aggressive type. During my research, I found several bloggers talking about this kind of astroturfer. Apparently, it’s a very common one & usually driven by hostility but SOMETIMES WITHOUT BEING RUDE. Pay attention to the description below:

*link F*

“I follow a bunch of Ziam blogs, and I heard talk about aggressive Ziam astroturfing of two kinds: (1) asking for masterposts and analyses, and (2) asking very specific factual questions. I talked with that-regular-chick about it, and she described it like this:

“…today we chatted and realized we all got very specific asks from the same “dummy” tumblr account: REDACTED. This account hit at least four of us in the past day. Each time they asked for our analysis and masterposts. Friday, I was blitzed with anon asks about Ziam, Zerrie and Sophiam. Initially, I was answering. But as I progressed through my Inbox, I noticed a pattern: careful not to offend so they throw some false praise in, a few “xx” or sometimes “thank you”. Always very specific about what they want know. Several claimed they were new to the fandom. I got so many, I felt they were really being aggressive and definitely had an agenda.”

Personally I tend to receive these type of anons on a daily basis. I would consider it’s the hardest one to recognise since I understand there are fans out there who tend to be very gentle when asking & simply with the purpose to learn & no one wants to be disrespectful toward any anon when answering, right? Nonetheless this is an advantage they take to camouflage. Note also how that-regular-chick said, ironically enough, the aggressive astroturfer is careful not to offend. Nonetheless I’m also aware that at times there are pretty intense anons which break that pattern of softness & jump straight ahead into using a harsh approach like the one shown in the first pic. Just look at the way that-regular-chick clarified she’s a victim as well despite not being about shipping. I know most Camren blogs get the infamous “why do you assume someone else’s sexuality when it’s none of your business… SO ANNOYING OMG” anon. Well now you know it’s an anti message mainly seeking for you to stop. Since now it’s all about killing Camren no wonder why we’ve seen many of these lately.

Example 2: *link G*

 “Both my suspected astroturfers have responded, and their messages are overlapping under the two different URLs in question. And neither likes to use capitalization, coincidentally enough. And if you can’t send asks under your sideblog, why not just change the settings? Also, why is your main blog hella inactive? And why do you think you need a blog to lurk on tumblr? So many questions…”

Our next kind, is the non-anon type. These shameless astroturfers couldn’t bother less in going unnoticed.

Not all of these are about not using capitalization, this ultimate aspect is a pattern the blogger found in that particular case. Here are a few elements you could lean on to identify them:

*link H* (THIS LINK IT’S NECESSARY TO BE OPENED .IT SPEAKS ABOUT FANDOMS MONITORING IN GENERAL. Apparently t’s explained by an insider the directioners had contact with but I’ll address this with more detail almost by the end. If you want to read it now, by all means go ahead.)

“The best way that I’ve seen to get a handle on tumblr is to set up what basically amount to burner accounts. You create a tumblr account with an unassuming username and do nothing to the actual account. You leave the layout at default, don’t change the icon, don’t make posts, and don’t reblog or favourite anything. But you use the account to follow the blogs that control the conversation in whatever fandom you’re trying to monitor.”

Funnily enough, I was followed by a burner account (or maybe more but I did spot one) in the past 24 hours, LOL:

Example 3: *link I*

“People also ask questions they could easily google, like what's Zayn’s Instagram? I mean, you can google that faster than I can answer you. LOL”

Our third type, is the lazy astroturfer. I believe this one is pretty self-explanatory. The description provided is more than sufficient. Characterised by a lethargic tone & vibe.

Another example I could add is: “What is Dinah’s full name?” It’s the first thing I came up with since it’s something you can type in the google searcher… Besides a fan knows DJ’s full name it by heart, right? Lol

You might be wondering, why would they send these type of generic questions, why do they obtain with a generic answer. Well they come with three different objectives, it depends: Either gathering information or steering the conversation or merely keeping an eye on the blog (as in fan engagement).

Example 4: *link J*

I would classify this astroturfer as the… the Inception type, maybe? Excuse me, I’m getting Inception teas here (fun fact: Inception is my favourite film lol). As I understand an idea is put on a target (blog) by this specialised team (astroturfers) just like in the movie. Here I leave you a scene of the film to illustrate it better, min 1:05- 1:32 :

Saito (Ken Watanabe): If you can steal an idea from someone’s mind why can’t you plant one there instead?

Arthur (Joseph Gordon-Levitt): Here’s me planning an idea in your head, I say to you, don’t think about elephants, what do you think about?

Saito: Elephants

Arthur: Right but it’s not your idea, because you know I gave it to you. The subject’s mind can always trace the genesis of the idea. True inspiration is impossible to fake--

Cobb (Leo DiCaprio): *interrupting Arthur* It’s not true.

What we can appreciate in the scene is how DiCaprio contradicts Levitt’s statement of how the subject can’t remember the origin the thought seeded.  As I understand this example of astroturfing works like this. The target will not be able to remember where the original question came from since it’s supposed to be passed to others. If I put into perspective this is the way I imagine the original OT4s & Cnizers were created. A constant brainwash pulled by the same negative comments, to an extent that they can’t tell who were the first accounts that influenced them. “The virus got to them & they’re spreading it”.

Example 5: *link K*

Blind astroturfing. How many times we’ve seen repeated questions on another blog? Or from one day to another? Or when we just answer the same thing a couple of asks ago?

Example 6: (if I were you I wouldn’t bother in opening this link since the rest is about their timeline & I didn’t understand what they were talking about but if anyone is curious enough *link L* )

“astroturfing anons will usually give us a heads up that something is coming down the pipe too (that happened with haige 2.0 - people got anons about her for weeks and then she popped up again in her weird mainly one sided stunt with harry). it happened again with babygate but none of us wanted to believe it.”

This is a very weird but not entirely foreign type. If I can call it the “physic” astroturfer. Raise your hand if you have received the “next month (x ) will do (x) thing… bla, bla, bla” sort of message in your inbox more than once? Yep. I see several hands raised in the back lol. It doesn’t mean all it’s necessarily fake, like we saw with the 1D blogger above. BUT it doesn’t mean it’s ALL true either. Watch out for that.

Example 7: *link M* (IMPORTANT TO READ)

“It’s becoming harder for fans to hold onto the illusion that the internet is a secret club and that the management team of a multi-million dollar boyband that built on its success on social media wouldn’t be interested in what fans say on social media.

So it’s awfully funny that there are now anons popping up heavily dropping implications that if we talk openly about what we see on the internet, that management will punish the boys and it’ll all be ~our fault~ and so we need to shut up if we truly love the boys....

Guilt trips–everything is your fault and your responsibility, including the actions of the management and record companies with clear motive and power for their actions–are just another form of attempts at control and manipulation. 'Don’t you care about the boys? You don’t want to hurt them, so if you care about them you will protect them and shut up and say nothing’. That is emotional blackmail. Bullshit.”

When I read this the first time, I was not surprised that they would reach this level. In all seriousness, I had already thought about this. What if one day an anon pops into my inbox & claims the girls will get in trouble due to my “big mouth”? Let me tell you something *starts getting heated* if that happens in the nearest future, I’m going to send them right straight to hell. THAT IS UTTER BULLSHIT. I’m not allowing anyone to use my girls in order to bribe the fuck out of me & my blog. If anything it just proves the amount of manipulation they are willing to carry on in order to save & cover up their asses because they’re threatened. & I don’t want to have to say this ever again… Listen carefully, NOTHING WILL HAPPEN TO THE GIRLS BECAUSE OF US. So if anyone receives or has already gotten this type of anon, IGNORE THEM, BLOCK & MOVE ON.

Just look at the date that post was written: 2014… 3 years later & the directioners are still there. Hell, stronger than ever. We are NOT GOING TO TOLERATE THAT EMOTIONAL BLACKMAIL ON OUR TERRITORY. Their biggest weakness is seeing us fighting harder against them, let’s not give them the power & satisfaction of witnessing us falling one by one like dominoes.

Example 8: *link N*

This one seems slightly tricky to me. I don’t know if can be considered a “normal” example or standard in this list since it’s reversed-astroturfing but I’m taking the time to mention it, it’s important.

“...astroturfers infiltrate with the ultimate end goal of dumping stuff on us, and monitoring how we’d respond to it, whereas (real) shady anons infiltrate with the intention to /warn/ us of stuff they know we’d respond negatively to…

the fake ones are always so ominous, and “be ready” or whatever but the real ones are just straight to the point and cautious-sounding and it’s crazy because many things we’ve been warned about are literally things we probably shouldn’t even /know/, much less prepare for...”

I’m still trying to process this last one tbh. I interpret it as the astroturfers (the fake ones) test our reactions but we can tell it’s them because we get this feeling that something is wrong. On the other hand, the real shady anons are to direct with the way they approach, it’s like if they were slapping us in the face but without harming us because they know how are we going to respond. Is it clear? Cause I have to admit, I even confused myself…

Example 9: *link O* (& last example lol)

I’m not sure if we could classify the following as part of astroturfing exactly. I would consider so because it’s so similar & incredibly interesting the way these work that I had to include it:

“Plant blogs”. What is a plant blog? This is the name directioners have christened with those blogs that are sent by the team in order to plant seeds (info) with the purpose of spreading it & ultimately achieving their goal which could be to distract, separate or influence the fandom.

“it means that we believe her blog was ‘planted’ by someone behind the scenes working for/with the boys rather than being an organic blog run by a real fan.”

Not all plant blogs are poisonous since not all the people behind them have bad intentions. I know it’s hard to believe this latter but from what I was seeing the 1D fam had once a blog on their side educating them & never disrespecting or influencing them to hate on any of their boys:

*link P*

“yes a ‘plant’ blog in the way that we’re using the term would be someone who joins the fandom with a deliberate agenda.

in our case, the agenda was beneficial to us as we learned a lot (especially about image manipulation in the press and how to limit the effect of astroturfers on us/the fandom conversation).

there are also hypothetically negative plants whose main role and goal would be to gaslight the fandom from within and make us doubt ourselves/our own observations.”

So...

This were some examples that I consider we have already encountered in the past. I believe the list can continue to go on & on but we’re beginning to study this new concept. I guess with time the experience will shape the “astroturfy” messages adequately enough so we can recognise them with more ease.

Don’t worry, on Part 4 I will give you recommendations I found on how to deal with them...

DON’T BE NAIVE KIDS.

[gayglitterqueen]

Scars and Nail Polish

Rating: General Audiences Warning: Minor injuries Words: 5115 Pairings: Malec Notes: Superhero au!!! Summary:  Written for isabellebiwoods for secret santa, who asked for superhero au!

AO3

i might have forgotten to post this

Magnus might be screwed.

Okay, scratch that. Magnus is screwed, there’s no use beating around the bush at the moment. Now when he’s probably about to die, or at least get captured by Valentine. At the very best, he has to hope that Valentine himself finds him instead of a lower level squadron of nobody supers. Getting captured by them would just be embarrassing.

Currently, Magnus is seconds from passing out in the middle of wrecked street in the heart of New York City. He shifts slightly, and, yeah, it feels like he was slammed down so hard there’s now an indent in the street in the actual shape of his body. He’s not even sure who got him, he hasn’t bothered to learn any names in the Circle other than Valentine. Well, that’s not completely true, but it’s better than admitting he didn’t see who got him.

It sounds like the fight is still going on. He’s seen several other supers join up, only recognizing two. Naturally, he had seen Catarina on the ground, healing people as the fight went on, and he swears he saw Clary chasing after Valentine, tell tail red hair flowing behind her.

And here he is. Flat on his back. Waiting for the fight to end or for him to get his energy back. He has used up all his remaining strength teleporting out of the middle of the battle, only for someone to sneak up behind him and use the unfair advantage of super strength to try to mold him into the ground. If only he hasn’t used up so much energy with his energy blasts during the fight, he might be able to teleport back to his apartment, but no.

He’s stuck here.

Magnus lets out a long breath out of his nose, wondering how long this will all take. If he’s out much longer Chairman will find hi way into Magnus’ closet and start taking his boredom out on his clothes. That image is incentive enough to at least attempt getting up. It already feels like he won’t be able to move, but he won’t know until he tries it. He sucks in a deep breath, pushes up, and

Fuck that.

Every muscle he has yells at once. No, no, nope. He’ll just lie here and accept death instead, that sounds much nicer.

A sudden boom overhead explodes. Now Magnus is pretty sure death is the most likely option at this point.

The Circle has always been a pain in the ass to deal with –their own fucked up version of justice seems to be centered around screwing literally everyone over – even before Magnus joined the fight to stop them. But Valentine Morgenstern is a special kind of pain in the ass. Mind control and matter creation are such a wonderful mixing of powers, especially when they’re in the guy you’re trying to beat.

A crash follows and Magnus tilts his head back just in time to see a building start to collapse. The street is suddenly flooded with smoke and debris.

Magnus shuts his eyes, waiting for smoke and dust to fill his lungs, but several moments pass and nothing changes. Slowly, Magnus peeks one eye open. He’s greeted the world being filtered through a shimmering light red.

“What the fu-”

“Shh.” Someone hisses and it sounds like it’s…right above him? Then there’s a pressure he can’t see on his mouth, further silencing him. “Wait a second.”

A handful of more crashes happen and then are followed by tense silence. The pressure on his mouth is suddenly gone. The air above him blurs and then he’s face to face with a familiar masked superhero, hovering just a few inches above him.

He’s seen this face a handful of times before. Well, more specifically, he’s seen this black mask before. It only covers the bottom half of his face, leaving the most gorgeous pair of hazel eyes available for him to admire. They’ve interacted only briefly, running into each other on smaller missions, during which Magnus may or may not have taken small opportunities to flirt. Still, they’ve kept their distance mostly, so it’s a little jarring to be this close.

“Hello there.” Is all Magnus can think of to say, stunned from both the encounter and still from the hit.

The superhero – Magnus then remembers he doesn’t even have a name for him yet, he hasn’t seen this masked face in the news at all – raises an eyebrow, but all Magnus can focus on is the small scar running through it. “Um, hi?” He tilts his head slightly, eyes flickering as he examines Magnus’ face. “Are you alright?”

“I would like to say that I’m much better now that I have a cute boy on top of me, but the pain is kind of ruining it.” Magnus admits.

He desperately wishes that this wasn’t a situation that calls for masks and secret identities, mostly because the hero above him doesn’t laugh. Magnus has no idea if he’s frowning or smiling down at him. “Do you have a concussion?”

“I’m no doctor, but I’m kind of hoping I don’t. Now, not that this position isn’t lovely, I would prefer to be standing on my feet. Do you happen to have any plans of getting off me any time soon?”

There’s still no concrete expression behind the mask, but Magnus swears he catches the faintest trace of pink just above where it ends on the tops of his cheeks before he ducks down, completely hiding his face. “Right- sorry, sorry.” He mutters, climbing to his feet. The red force field around them shudders as he does so, expanding to make room for his height. “Can you get up?”

“If I say no, will you carry me?” Magnus bats his eyes. The hero doesn’t respond. “Right. It doesn’t matter your answer because, no, I can’t.”

The hero leans down, grabs both of Magnus’ hands, and slowly pulls him back up to his feet. It’s surprisingly easy. Magnus wasn’t exactly stuck, but instead his body so tired it refused to move. Refuses to move. He stumbles once he’s on his feet and reaches out to latch onto the hero’s arm.

“I’m all out of power.” Magnus explains, letting go of one hand to rub at his face.

“How long until you’re good?”

“Just give me a few minutes.” Magnus doesn’t mean for it to come out as snappy as it does, but he’s tired and the longer he stands the more he feels like he’s just going to collapse to the ground and be done with it all. This doesn’t happen often, he’s usually much more considerate about it, so it hurts even worse the rare occasions it does. So sue him if he’s grumpier than usual. “I’ll be right as rain in no time.”

The hero raises his eyebrow again, this time clearly unimpressed. “Come on. I think the worst of it’s died down, but we should still lie low.”

“We?” Magnus just gets out the word before he jumps, hands flying off the hero’s arm. It feels like someone has shocked him after walking across a carpet with their socks on. The hero is having none of that apparently, he reaches out to take one of Magnus’ hand in his own. The shock is still there, but Magnus is expecting it this time.

“It doesn’t hurt so much if you get it over with quickly.” The hero explains in a gentle voice. The sparking feeling fades and is replaced by a ripple, starting from where his fingertips touch the hero’s hand to the rest of his body. It looks like ripples as well, a soft red washing over him and the hero. “This way no one can see us.”

“Ah, the perks of invisibility.” Magnus holds his hand up to the light, frowning when he sees it doesn’t look any different.

“You aren’t see though or anything.” The hero is struggling to keep his voice dreadfully dull.

“I can tell.” Magnus quickly replies, dropping his hands to his side, unwilling to admit he had hoped for that.

The hero rolls his eyes, Magnus wonders if he’s frowning. “Come on, follow me.”

Magnus has to lean on the hero much more than he would like to admit as they hurry down the street. The smoke still hasn’t cleared yet, but the force field around them keeps up easily, keeping everything out. They’re several blocks away when the hero tugs Magnus into an alley, both of them taking a moment to lean against the brick wall.

The silence between them is shockingly comfortable, but Magnus can’t help but fill it. “I’m very sorry, but I don’t think I’ve gotten your name yet. I don’t recall seeing you in the news much.”

The hero huffs – a laugh? – and his posture relaxes a tad. He leans his head back against the wall, eyes closing. “It’s kind of hard to get credit when you do most of your job invisible.”

“So, do you have a super name yet? Or is that still undecided?”

“Call me Lightwood.”

Magnus can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. “Interesting choice.”

“Like you’re one to talk, Bane.” Lightwood opens his eyes to give him a look that Magnus is assumes is teasing, but just makes him want to rip that mask off his face so he can know.

Instead Magnus scoffs. “Excuse me, that is a very good name. Short, sweet, and to the point.”

“If you say so.” Lightwood rolls his eyes before slipping them closed once again.

“I will admit, it is nice to know you’ve heard of me.” Magnus grins, shifting closer. He can feel a hum of energy radiating from Lightwood, warming the air around them.

“Who hasn’t? You’re kind of hard to miss.”

“How so?”

Lightwood, without opening his eyes, gestures to all of Magnus. “The hair, the costume, the- hell, even your mask has glitter on it. I don’t understand how you sneak up on anyone.”

“Small price to pay to look amazing.” Magnus shrugs. “What about you? Mr. All Black. You can at least turn yourself invisible, you don’t have to try to blend in with the shadows. A nice blue would do you some good. Cobalt? It would bring out your eyes.”

Lightwood snorts. “My eyes, huh? Also, I look good in black, so I don’t see a problem here.”

“Hm, I can’t argue with that.” Magnus purrs, taking a moment to let his eyes rake up and down Lightwood’s body. Whoever decided super suits should be tight fitting is a saint, honestly. In the back of his mind he can feel something, distracting him. His muscles still ache and he feels bone tired, but he know sit’s been long enough. “As much as I would love to stay and continue discussing fashion, I believe it’s time we part ways. Is there anywhere specific you’d like me to send you before I head home?”

Lightwood opens his eyes and looks Magnus over, as if making sure he really is okay to go. “Nah. I’m pretty sure my apartment was fucked up in the fight anyway, I’ll just head to a friend’s place, not so far from here.”

“Suit yourself.” Magnus shrugs. Slowly, he brings up his fingers and snaps. Where Lightwood once stood is his bed and instead of an alleyway surrounding him his bedroom does.

He doesn’t bother taking his suit off before collapsing face first onto the bed.

Alec could be doing better, all things considered.

His sister had once told him to keep a list of good things when everything gets shitty. He doesn’t exactly have one at the ready for this kind of situation, so instead he decides to improvise it.

Okay first off: the lid out of the sewer isn’t actually as heavy as he imagined it. Sure, his shoulder screams like a bitch as he pushes it up and it may be making his bleeding worse, but at least it can be pushed up. Next, he’s actually found his way out of the sewer. He’s never appreciated fresh air more. Then…

Nothing.

It’s a short fucking list. Isabelle would be so disappointed. Well, she’d also be disappointed if he dies from bleeding out, so there’s a few more urgent issues to attend to, even with her feelings in mind.

Alec pulls himself up onto the street and falls forward onto his chest. He knows he should get moving. The big, ugly fucker Valentine sent after him is still on his tail. Alec had only managed to stun him for a few moments, just enough to get a decent head start, but it won’t last long. He needs to get up and start moving or at least hide. But his shoulder feels like it’s been ripped apart, he’s soaked to the bone, and isn’t sure any of his muscles actually work anymore. The only thing he is sure still works are his blood vessels and he only knows this because the puddle of blood he’s lying it is slowly getting bigger.

Okay, so things aren’t looking great.

He manages to pull himself up and only hiss a significant list of curses, not shout them like he’d prefer to. He reaches up to press his hand around where he’s pretty sure the wound is, but it all feels bloody and mangled so he’s not quite sure.

“Oh dear. That doesn’t look good at all.”

Alec automatically tenses at the voice, already debating if he should run or fight, before forcing himself to relax. He knows that voice. He knows that tone. He turns and isn’t surprised to see Bane standing before him.

It’s really unfair, how no matter what he’s doing, Bane always looks good. Hell, he looked good last week when Alec found him almost passed out. It has to be some magic. Maybe the glitter or something. Or the bright lipsticks he always wears. Last time they’d seen each other Bane had been covered in dirt and completely worn out, but now it’s Alec’s turn to look like a mess as Bane looks down at him, completely put together.

Bane’s lips curl up into a smirk, they’re painted a bright pink this time around. “Need a little help?”

“Um, yeah, kind of.” Alec nods, hoping the reason he feels so out of it is because of blood loss. He pulls his hand from his shoulder and looks down at it, seeing it completely soaked red. “That’s not good,” he mumbles to himself.

“I’d say you’re right about that.” Bane agrees and suddenly Alec isn’t on the ground anymore, but in the air. Rather, in Bane’s arms.

His eyes widen in shock and his good arm automatically reaches out to latch around his neck. Being carried bridal style out of a fight by Bane wasn’t exactly how he pictured the evening going. “Uh- ah- wh- what are you doing?” He does his best to keep his voice from squeaking, but he can’t do anything to control how hot his face is getting. Thank for for the superhero mask.

“Helping.” Bane says simply, yellow eyes gleaming with delight. Alec wonders if it’s an effect of his mask, which only covers the top half of his face, or if it’s something that came with his powers. “Now, this may feel a bit odd, but don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

“Pretty?” Is all Alec’s head can come up with as a reply before he’s enveloped. It lasts half a second at most, but it feels like someone’s thrown a heavy blanket over him. One minute he’s surrounded by a darken street, feet away from the entrance to the sewer, the next he’s in a harshly lit room next to a white bed. “What the-?”

Alec doesn’t get to finish his question. Bane quickly sets him down on the bed and holds up a finger. His nails are painted the same pink as his lips. “I’ll be right back.” He doesn’t teleport out of the room, but instead heads towards what looks like a bedroom door. He shuts it closed behind him.

Alone, Alec has a chance to take in the room. What he’s lying on is clearly a hospital bed, but the room isn’t. It looks like an apartment bedroom, wooden floors and a green, musty carpet. There’s bright lights hung up on the ceiling and all the windows are boarded shut. Maybe Alec would have had better luck in the sewers.

“I hate you.” A woman’s voice sounds out. Alec nearly jumps up as the door is thrown open. A woman with dark blue skin and bright white hair walks in, features that he can see pinched in frustration. The bottom half of her face is covered by a surgical mask. Bane follows closely behind, his own ease contrasting. The woman walks up to Alec, hands on her hips, but thankfully her frustration doesn’t seem to be directed at him. “Name?”

“A- Lightwood. It’s Lightwood.” He almost fucks up by giving his full name. It feels like being back in a hospital, nurse checking his information. She sounds just like a nurse.

“And what exactly did you do to your shoulder?” She asks, turning to a small table next to the bed, opening a draw. She pulls out a pair of scissors. She begins cutting off torn pieces of his suit, placing them onto the table next to her. “Hope you know how to sew.”

“I got, um-. I went after two of Valentine’s super’s and this one girl had really sharp teeth. She got a bite in before I could knock her out.”

At the end of the bed Bane winces in sympathy.

“Ew.” The woman mutters. “Stay still for this.”

She presses her bare hand flat against his wound. He flinches at the initial stab of pain from the contact, but quickly it’s replaced by a different feeling. Like someone washing warm water over him, the pain starting to numb away.

“Cat here is a healer.” Bane explains, leaning over the railing slightly. “She runs this little joint.”

“Cat?” Alec repeats, head still a little too hazy to make sense of what’s going on.

“Meow.” Cat deadpans, eyes still focused on her hand. “And, yes, I do run this place. And it runs a lot smoother if people call ahead of time to let me know they’re coming.”

Bane shrugs, still smiling easily. “It was an emergency.” He turns back to Alec, yellow eyes lighting up. “This is one of the few places we supers can come to recover without giving up our secret identities. Unfortunately, it’s a lot less than legal, but it does have real doctors and nurses, so that’s a plus.”

“Hm,” Alec hums in agreement, but he can’t seem to find anymore words. He’s too busy watching Bane’ hands, how he moves them when he talks, how the pink nail polish catches in the light. He’s so pretty.

“I think it’s hit him.” Cat mutters, finally looking up to look back at Bane. Her hand drops from Alec’s shoulder. “Lightwood, do you want to rest here? Or is there somewhere else you want us to take you?”

“‘M staying with a friend.” Alec mutters, reaching up to touch his shoulder. It’s smooth skin, not a trace of what happened.

“Ah, yes. I remember you mentioning them. Are they a super?” Bane asks, tilting his head.

Alec almost laughs. Lydia, a super. Like the government works with supers. He doesn’t. “Nah. She’s just a friend.”

“And do you think she’d mind me dropping you off there?”

“Nah.”

“Well.” Bane claps his hands together, startling Alec. “That settles it. Just give me an address and I’ll drop you off. And then,” he looks at Cat, “I’ll head on back to help with your shift. How does that sound?”

Alec shrugs and Cat just frowns, raising an eyebrow at Bane.

“Well, aren’t the both of you just darling ? Lightwood, do you remember the address.” He does. Barely. “Across town, that’s not too bad. See you soon, Cat.”

“Don’t do anything stupid.” She replies, heading back to the door.

Alec doesn’t think to thank her until she’s out the door and he’s back in Bane’ arms. And then he forgets all over again because, well, isn’t this a comfy place to be? The blanket feeling is back and then he’s in Lydia’s living room. The apartment is completely dark, since Lydia won’t be back for another two days for some work trip.

“Where do you sleep?” Bane asks, glancing around.

Alec can’t help but lean his head into the crook of Bane’s shoulder and, oh, this is much more comfy. “Couch.” He mumbles.

Bane walks over, just a few feet, and leans down to set Alec lying down on the couch. Alec frowns, preferring for Bane to keep holding him. He looks up and there’s an odd look in Bane’s eyes, but Alec is too tired to figure it out.

“So.” Bane sighs, crossing his arms. “Cat’s effects usually wear off in twelve hours. You really just need to sleep it off. If it hurts just take some Advil or something and try not to get bitten by anyone else for the next few days. Lightwood? Think you can manage that?”

Alec hardly manages to nod. “Yeah. Sleep. Advil. Got it.”

Bane sighs. “All right then.”

Alec’s halfway asleep in seconds, but he when he wakes up he swears feeling a hand running through his hair and someone placing a blanket on him.

Now this is a cute neighbor.

Such an improvement from the last one, a stuffy old lady who didn’t even have the perk of owning too many cats. She hated everything that had a heartbeat and always scowled at Magnus whenever they crossed paths. Luckily, Magnus had found out a few weeks ago she was moving out, by waking up to the sound of her yelling at some poor moving boy for apparently breaking something. There had been no news of anyone moving in, and Magnus didn’t dare keep his hopes up for someone decent, maybe halfway decent. The new neighbor’s boxes had appeared just two days ago in the hallway.

Yet, this is the first time Magnus is seeing him. And even if Magnus had let himself raise his hopes, he would not be disappointed. It’s been so, so long since he’s had a neighbor he can properly admire.

They’re in the laundry room, which while not the perfect place for a first meeting, Magnus doesn’t really mind. It’s a small room with an even smaller window, paint peeling and machines yellowed, with two tables on opposite ends of the room. The new neighbor is on the far side of the room, laundry basket at his feet, hunched over what he assumes to be his clothes.

Not the perfect place, but it’ll do.

Magnus doesn’t really mean to sneak up on him, but years of having to be stealthy makes it a habit hard to break and he walks up completely silent. His eyes rake over his neighbor. He’s only gotten a small glance at his face, but is more than ready to take in his broad shoulders and big arms.

It may also have been a while since Magnus has had a good hookup, so why not take up the opportunity?

“Hello there.” Magnus practically purrs once he’s at the table, laundry basket resting on his hip and smirk on his face.

His neighbor jumps slightly, grip tightening on a shirt in surprise. He turns to look at Magnus with wide eyes and-

Oh, yes. A definite improvement.

“Um, hi?” His neighbor seems a bit taken aback, but if it’s due to the fact that Magnus surprised him or he just wasn’t expecting anyone to join him today he can’t tell. “Can I help you?”

“Well, I happened to notice you’re the new neighbor in the building and we haven’t been formally introduced.” Magnus sets his basket down on the table and reaches out, pink nail polish glittering in the light. “I’m Magnus.”

His neighbor’s eyes dart to his hand, pausing for a second before dropping the shirt and fully turning towards him. His lips ease up into a smile as he shakes Magnus’ hand. “Alec.”

“Short for Alexander?” Magnus asks, now taking his time with letting his eyes roam up and down Alec, able to completely appreciate him.

He doesn’t miss the way Alec’s face seems to heat up. “Um- yeah, but I- but no one ever calls me that.”

“I don’t know, I quite like the name. Alexander.” He repeats the name and, yes, Alec’s face is turning a lovely shade of pink. It’s been so long since he’s had the chance to properly flirt, between saving the world and his day job he just hasn’t had the time, he’d forgotten how much fun it is. “But, if you really insist, I can just call you Alec.”

“No- no.” Alec stumbles over the word, like he’s trying to get it out too fast. “It’s – fine. It’s fine with me.”

Magnus grins. “Wonderful.” He turns to face his laundry basket and begins pulling clothes out. He can practically feel Alec’s gaze on his hands, but that’s normal, people are often taken aback by his amazing wardrobe. “I happen to live just down the hall from you, I’m surprised he haven’t met before.”

“Really?” Alec’s voice sounds oddly tight, but when Magnus glances over he’s staring down at his clothes, back to folding. “I’ve been busy with – work. And moving.”

“Understandable. Do you work nearby?”

“At the police station down the block.” Alec shrugs.

Magnus chuckles at that before he can stop himself. Of course he does. “That must be fun. Being a cop in a big city inhabited by superheros. I always hear such positive things from them about supers.”

Alec snorts, rolling his eyes as he finishes another t-shirt. “Oh, yeah. Everyone there loves supers.”

“And you?”

It’s not like it matters, really. It’s not like Alec could figure out who Magnus is. That’s what secret identities are for, that’s what Magnus’ mask is for. It matters even less if this does turn out to just be a quick hookup where they end up saying hello every once and a while in the hall afterwards. He shouldn’t ask, he already knows the answer. But part of him wants to hear Alec say it. To confirm, no to deny what his assumption is.

“What do I think of supers?” Alec asks, once again turning to Magnus. He looks surprised again, but more of an I-wasn’t-expecting-that rather than a you-almost-made-me-jump-out-of-my-skin surprised. “I don’t- I mean. They save people, right? They try to protect yo- us. So, isn’t that what matters?”

Magnus slowly turns to look at Alec again, eyes widening until he’s sure they look comical. That. Uh. That wasn’t the answer he had been expecting. It’s a well known fact the police hate supers. They didn’t at first, but now apparently they get in the way too much and cause more damage than they’re worth. So. Yeah. Maybe Alec isn’t actually a police officer, maybe he’s just a receptionist or something? Do police stations even have that?

Magnus tries to remember every crime drama he can and if they have one or not.

“I… suppose.” Magnus choses the word carefully, reaching into his basket. Instead of touching cloth he feels the plastic bottom. “But don’t all-. Hm. Isn’t it quite common for police and supers to not get along?”

“So? that doesn’t mean they aren’t doing good work.” Alec raises an eyebrow and immediately Magnus’ attention is captured by the small scar running through it-

Oh.

Oh no.

No.

That can’t be-

Can it?

It can’t.

But it’s not like…it’s common. It’s not like he’s seen a scar like that in the exact same place on the exact same eyebrow on a lot of people. Only one. He’s only seen it twice.

Magnus forces himself to take a deep breath and not just start yelling. His mind is racing and it takes all his effort to sound as casual as possible. “True. I’m sorry, I was just a little surprised.

"You wouldn’t be the first.” Alec admits, eyebrow still raised. His scar still stands out clear as day, mocking Magnus now. He wants to reach up and touch it, make sure it’s real. He wants to dig through Alec’s basket, see if he can find any piece of the familiar super suit.

He doesn’t do any of that.

“It’s a shame, really.” Magnus continues, and wow, he’s impressed with himself that he’s keeping the act up so well. “If there were more people like you maybe others wouldn’t jump to conclusions. Forgive me, darling?”

Alec huffs out a laugh, and oh god, does he know? Does he recognize Magnus too? That’s what his lips look like when he laughs? Secret identities were a good idea two minutes ago, but as of now fuck secret identities. Magnus has to know.

“I think I can find it somewhere in my heart to do that.” Alec smirks and now Magnus can’t look away from his lips instead of his scar. “What good would a grudge be against my brand new neighbor?”

“I know of some badly written comedies and sitcoms that would heavily disagree with that sentiment.”

That gets an actual, full on laugh out of Alec. Magnus is starting to move out of the territory of downing in questions to a much more comfortable place. “Fair enough. I’ll see you around, I guess?”

Magnus has been so distracted that he hadn’t even noticed Alexander’s already done folding. How long has he been done? Hopefully not too long. He watches Alec bend over to get his basket. Yes. He’s now sure that it’s the same person behind the mask. “Fuck yes you will,” he mutters.

Alec brings the basket up with me and look at Magnus, question in his eyes. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I said I hope we do.”

“Oh.” Alec offers him a small smile in return, hands stumbling over his clothes as he hurries to put them all away. He keeps his basket held firmly in front of him. “I hope so too, Magnus.”

As soon as Alec’s out of the room, Magnus pulls up his phone to look up rare pictures of Lightwood, just to double check he isn’t losing his mind.

Nope. Same scar. Same hazel eyes. Similar messy hair.

Magnus’ mouth twitches up, the beginnings of his own smirk.

Oh, he can’t wait to see Lightwood again.