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potteresque-ire · 3 years

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Can you talk more about the usage of the word "wife" to talk about men in the BL context? I've noticed it in BJYX (particularly with GG), in the (English translations) of MDZS, and then it came up in your recent posts about Danmei-101 (which were super helpful btw) with articles connecting the "little fresh meat" type to fans calling an actor "wife." My initial reaction as a westerner is like "this is very problematic," but I think I'm missing a lot of language/cultural context. Any thoughts?

Hello! First of all, for those who’re interested, here’s a link to the referred posts. Under the cut is arguably the 4th post of the series. As usual, I apologise for the length!

(Topics: seme and uke; more about “leftover women”; roster of feminisation terms; Daji, Bao Si & the origin of BJYX; roster of beautiful, ancient Chinese men; Chairman Mao (not part of the roster) ...)

[TW: feminisation of men]

In the traditional BL characterisation, the M/M (double male) lead pairing is essentially a cis-het relationship in disguise, in which one of the M leads is viewed as the “wife” by the creator and audience. This lead often possesses some of the features of the traditional, stereotypical female, but retaining his male appearance.

In BL terms, the “wife” is the “uke”. “Seme” and “uke” are the respective roles taken by the two male leads, and designated by the creator of the material. Literally, “seme” (攻め) means the dominant, the attacking / aggressive partner in the relationship and “uke” (受け), the passive / recipient (of actions) partner who tends to follow the seme’s lead. The terms themselves do not have any sexual / gender context. However, as male and female are viewed as aggressive and passive by their traditional social roles, and the attacker and recipient by their traditional sexual roles respectively, BL fandoms have long assigned uke, the passive, sexual “bottom”, as the “woman”, the “wife”.

Danmei has kept this “semi” and uke” tradition from BL, taking the kanji of the Japanese terms for designation ~ 攻 (”attack” is therefore the “husband”, and 受 (”receive”), the “wife”. The designations are often specified in the introduction / summary of Danmei works as warning / enticement. For MDZS, for example, MXTX wrote:

高貴冷豔悶騷攻 × 邪魅狂狷風騷受

高貴冷豔悶騷攻 = noble, coolly beautiful and boring seme (referring to LWJ) 邪魅狂狷風騷受 = devilishly charming, wild, and flirty uke (referring to WWX)

The traditional, stereotypical female traits given to the “uke”, the “wife” in Danmei and their associated fanworks range from their personality to behaviour to even biological functions. Those who have read the sex scenes in MDZS may be aware of their lack of mention of lube, while WWX was written as getting (very) wet from fluids from his colon (腸道) ~ implying that his colon, much like a vagina, was supplying the necessarily lubrication for sex. This is obviously biologically inaccurate; however, Danmei is exempt from having to be realistic by its original Tanbi definition. The genre’s primary audience is cishet females, and sex scenes such as this one aren’t aiming for realism. Rather, the primary goal of these sex scenes is to generate fantasy, and the purpose of the biologically female functions in one of the leads (WWX) is to ease the readers into imagining themselves as the one engaging in the sex.

Indeed, these practices of assigning as males and female the M/M sexual top and bottom, of emphasising of who is the top and who is the bottom, have been falling out of favour in Western slash fandoms ~ I joined fandom about 15 years ago, and top and bottom designations in slash pairings (and fights about them) were much more common than it is now. The generally more open, more progressive environments in which Western fandomers are immersed in probably have something to do with it: they transfer their RL knowledge, their views on biology, on different social into their fandom works and discourses.

I’d venture to say this: in the English-speaking fandoms, fandom values and mainstream values are converging. “Cancel culture” reflects an attempt to enforce RL values in the fictional worlds in fandom. Fandom culture is slowly, but surely, leaving its subculture status and becoming part of mainstream culture.

I’d hesitate to call c-Danmei fandoms backward compared to Western slash for this reason. There’s little hope for Danmei to converge with China’s mainstream culture in the short term ~ the necessity of replacing Danmei with Dangai in visual media already reflects that. Danmei is and will likely remain subculture in the foreseeable future, and subcultures, at heart, are protests against the mainstream. Unless China and the West define “mainstream” very similarly (and they don’t), it is difficult to compare the “progressiveness”—and its dark side, the “problematic-ness”—of the protests, which are shaped by what they’re protesting against. The “shaper” in this scenario, the mainstream values and culture, are also far more forceful under China’s authoritarian government than they are in the free(-er) world.

Danmei, therefore, necessarily takes on a different form in China than BL or slash outside China. As a creative pursuit, it serves to fulfil psychological needs that are reflective of its surrounding culture and sociopolitical environment. The genre’s “problematic” / out of place aspects in the eyes of Western fandoms are therefore, like all other aspects of the genre, tailor-made by its millions of fans to be comforting / cathartic for the unique culture and sociopolitical background it and they find themselves in.

I briefly detoured to talk about the Chinese government’s campaign to pressure young, educated Chinese women into matrimony and motherhood in the post for this reason, as it is an example of how, despite Western fandoms’ progressiveness, they may be inadequate, distant for c-Danmei fans. Again, this article is a short and a ... morbidly-entertaining read on what has been said about China’s “leftover women” (剩女) — women who are unmarried and over 27-years-old). I talked about it, because “Women should enter marriage and parenthood in their late 20s” may no longer a mainstream value in many Western societies, but where it still is, it exerts a strong influence on how women view romance, and by extension, how they interact with romantic fiction, including Danmei.

In China, this influence is made even stronger by the fact that Chinese tradition places a strong emphasis on education and holds a conservative attitude towards romance and sex. Dating while studying therefore remains discouraged in many Chinese families. University-educated Chinese women therefore have an extremely short time frame — between graduation (~23 years old) and their 27th birthday — to find “the right one” and get married, before they are labelled as “leftovers” and deemed undesirable. (Saving) face being an important aspect in Chinese culture introduces yet another layer of pressure: traditionally, women who don’t get married by the age agreed by social norms have been viewed as failures of upbringing, in that the unmarried women’s parents not having taught/trained their daughters well. Filial, unmarried women therefore try to get married “on time” just to avoid bringing shame to their family.

The outcome is this: despite the strong women characters we may see in Chinese visual media, many young Chinese women nowadays do not expect themselves to be able to marry for love. Below, I offer a “book jacket summary” of a popular internet novel in China, which shows how the associated despair also affects cis-het fictional romance. Book reviews praise this novel for being “boring”: the man and woman leads are both common working class people, the “you-and-I”’s; the mundaneness of them trying build their careers and their love life is lit by one shining light: he loves her and she loves him.

Written in her POV, this summary reflects, perhaps, the disquiet felt by many contemporary Chinese women university graduates:

曾經以為，自己這輩子都等不到了—— 世界這麼大，我又走得這麼慢，要是遇不到良人要怎麼辦？早過了「全球三十幾億男人，中國七億男人，天涯何處無芳草」的猖狂歲月，越來越清楚，循規蹈矩的生活中，我們能熟悉進而深交的異性實在太有限了，有限到我都做好了「接受他人的牽線，找個適合的男人慢慢煨熟，再平淡無奇地進入婚姻」的準備，卻在生命意外的拐彎處迎來自己的另一半。

I once thought, my wait will never come to fruition for the rest of my life — the world is so big, I’m so slow in treading it, what if I’ll never meet the one? I’ve long passed the wild days of thinking “3 billion men exist on Earth, 0.7 of which are Chinese. There is plenty more fish in the sea.” I’m seeing, with increasing clarity, that in our disciplined lives, the number of opposite-sex we can get to know, and get to know well, is so limited. It’s so limited that I’m prepared to accept someone’s matchmaking, find a suitable man and slowly, slowly, warm up to him, and then, to enter marriage with without excitement, without wonder. But then, an accidental turn in my life welcomes in my other half.

— Oath of Love (餘生，請多指教) (Yes, this is the novel Gg’d upcoming drama is based on.)

Heteronormativity is, of course, very real in China. However, that hasn’t exempted Chinese women, even its large cis-het population, from having their freedom to pursue their true love taken away from them. Even for cis-het relationships, being able to marry for love has become a fantasy —a fantasy scorned by the state. Remember this quote from Article O3 in the original post?

耽改故事大多远离现实，有些年轻受众却将其与生活混为一谈，产生不以结婚和繁衍为目的才是真爱之类的偏颇认知。

Most Dangai stories are far removed from reality; some young audience nonetheless mix them up with real life, develop biased understanding such as “only love that doesn’t treat matrimony and reproduction as destinations is true love”.

I didn’t focus on it in the previous posts, in an effort to keep the discussion on topic. But why did the op-ed piece pick this as an example of fantasy-that-shouldn’t-be-mixed-up-with-real-life, in the middle of a discussion about perceived femininity of men that actually has little to do with matrimony and reproduction?

Because the whole point behind the state’s “leftover women” campaign is precisely to get women to treat matrimony and reproduction as destinations, not beautiful sceneries that happen along the way. And they’re the state’s destination as more children = higher birth rate that leads to higher future productivity. The article is therefore calling out Danmei for challenging this “mainstream value”.

Therefore, while the statement True love doesn’t treat matrimony and reproduction as destinations may be trite for many of us while it may be a point few, if any, English-speaking fandoms may pay attention to, to the mainstream culture Danmei lives in, to the mainstream values dictated by the state, it is borderline subversive.

As much as Danmei may appear “tame” for its emphasis on beauty and romance, for it to have stood for so long, so firmly against China’s (very) forceful mainstream culture, the genre is also fundamentally rebellious. Remember: Danmei has little hope of converging with China’s mainstream unless it “sells its soul” and removes its homoerotic elements.

With rebelliousness, too, comes a bit of tongue-in-cheek.

And so, when c-Danmei fans, most of whom being cishet women who interact with the genre by its traditional BL definition, call one of the leads 老婆 (wife), it can and often take on a different flavour. As said before, it can be less about feminizing the lead than about identifying with the lead. The nickname 老婆 (wife) can be less about being disrespectful and more about humorously expressing an aspiration—the aspiration to have a husband who truly loves them, who they do want to get married and have babies with but out of freedom and not obligation.

Admittedly, I had been confused, and bothered by these “can-be”s myself. Just because there are alternate reasons for the feminisation to happen doesn’t mean the feminisation itself is excusable. But why the feminisation of M/M leads doesn’t sound as awful to me in Chinese as in English? How can calling a self-identified man 老婆 (wife) get away with not sounding being predominantly disrespectful to my ears, when I would’ve frowned at the same thing said in my vicinity in English?

I had an old hypothesis: when I was little, it was common to hear people calling acquaintances in Chinese by their unflattering traits: “Deaf-Eared Chan” (Mr Chan, who’s deaf), “Fat Old Woman Lan” (Ah-Lan, who’s an overweight woman) etc—and the acquaintances were perfectly at ease with such identifications, even introducing themselves to strangers that way. Comparatively speaking then, 老婆 (wife) is harmless, even endearing.

老婆, which literally means “old old-lady” (implying wife = the woman one gets old with), first became popularised as a colloquial, casual way of calling “wife” in Hong Kong and its Cantonese dialect, despite the term itself being about 1,500 years old. As older generations of Chinese were usually very shy about talking about their love lives, those who couldn’t help themselves and regularly spoke of their 老婆 tended to be those who loved their wives in my memory. 老婆, as a term, probably became endearing to me that way.

Maybe this is why the feminisation of M/M leads didn’t sound so bad to me?

This hypothesis was inadequate, however. This custom of identifying people by their (unflattering) traits has been diminishing in Hong Kong and China, for similar reasons it has been considered inappropriate in the West.

Also, 老婆 (wife) is not the only term used for / associated with feminisation. I’ve tried to limit the discussion to Danmei, the fictional genre; now, I’ll jump to its associated RPS genre, and specifically, the YiZhan fandoms. The purpose of this jump: with real people involved, feminisation’s effect is potentially more harmful, more acute. Easier to feel.

YiZhan fans predominantly entered the fandoms through The Untamed, and they’ve also transferred Danmei’s “seme”/“uke” customs into YiZhan. There are, therefore, three c-YiZhan fandoms:

博君一肖 (BJYX): seme Dd, uke Gg 戰山為王 (ZSWW): seme Gg, uke Dd 連瑣反應 (LSFY): riba Gg and Dd. Riba = “reversible”, and unlike “seme” and “uke”, is a frequently-used term in the Japanese gay community.

BJYX is by far the largest of the three, likely due to Gg having played WWX, the “uke” in MDZS / TU. I’ll therefore focus on this fandom, ie. Gg is the “uke”, the “wife”.

For Gg alone, I’ve seen him being also referred to by YiZhan fans as (and this is far from a complete list):

* 姐姐 (sister) * 嫂子 (wife of elder brother; Dd being the elder brother implied) * 妃妃 (based on the very first YiZhan CP name, 太妃糖 Toffee Candy, a portmanteau of sorts from Dd being the 太子 “prince” of his management company and Gg being the prince’s wife, 太子妃. 糖 = “candy”. 太妃 sounds like toffee in English and has been used as the latter’s Chinese translation.) * 美人 (beauty, as in 肖美人 “Beauty Xiao”) * Daji 妲己 (as in 肖妲己, “Daji Xiao”).

The last one needs historical context, which will also become important for explaining the new hypothesis I have.

Daji was a consort who lived three thousand years ago, whose beauty was blamed for the fall of the Shang dynasty. Gg (and men sharing similar traits, who are exceptionally rare) has been compared to Daji 妲己 for his alternatively innocent, alternatively seductive beauty ~ the kind of beauty that, in Chinese historical texts and folk lores, lead to the fall of kingdoms when possessed by the king’s beloved woman. This kind of “I-get-to-ruin-her-virginity”, “she’s a slut in MY bedroom” beauty is, of course, a stereotypical fantasy for many (cis-het) men, which included the authors of these historical texts and folklores. However, it also contained some truth: the purity / innocence, the image of a virgin, was required for an ancient woman to be chosen as a consort; the seduction, meanwhile, helped her to become the top consort, and monopolise the attention of kings and emperors who often had hundreds of wives ~ wives who often put each other in danger to eliminate competition.

Nowadays, women of tremendous beauty are still referred to by the Chinese idiom 傾國傾城, literally, ”falling countries, falling cities”. The beauty is also implied to be natural, expressed in a can’t-help-itself way, perhaps reflecting the fact that the ancient beauties on which this idiom has been used couldn’t possibly have plastic surgeries, and most of them didn’t meet a good end ~ that they had to pay a price for their beauty, and often, with their lowly status as women, as consorts, they didn’t get to choose whether they wanted to pay this price or not. This adjective is considered to be very flattering. Gg’s famous smile from the Thailand Fanmeet has been described, praised as 傾城一笑: “a smile that topples a city”.

I’m explaining Daji and 傾國傾城 because the Chinese idiom 博君一笑 “doing anything to get a smile from you”, from which the ship’s name BJYX 博君一肖 was derived (笑 and 肖 are both pronounced “xiao”), is connected to yet another of such dynasty-falling beauty, Bao Si 褒姒. Like Daji before her, Bao Si was blamed for the end of the Zhou Dynasty in 771 BC.

The legend went like this: Bao Si was melancholic, and to get her to smile, her king lit warning beacons and got his nobles to rush in from the nearby vassal states with their armies to come and rescue him, despite not being in actual danger. The nobles, in their haste, looked so frantic and dishevelled that Bao Si found it funny and smiled. Longing to see more of the smile of his favourite woman, the king would fool his nobles again and again, until his nobles no longer heeded the warning beacons when an actual rebellion came.

What the king did has been described as 博紅顏一笑, with 紅顏 (”red/flushed face”) meaning a beautiful woman, referring to Bao Si. Replace 紅顏 with the respectful “you”, 君, we get 博君一笑. If one searches the origin of the phrase 博 [fill_in_the_blank]一笑 online, Bao Si’s story shows up.

The “anything” in ”doing anything to get a smile from you” in 博君一笑, therefore, is not any favour, but something as momentous as giving away one’s own kingdom. c-turtles have remarked, to their amusement and admittedly mine, that “king”, in Chinese, is written as 王, which is Dd’s surname, and very occasionally, they jokingly compare him to the hopeless kings who’d give away everything for their love. Much like 傾國傾城 has become a flattering idiom despite the negative reputations of Daji and Bao Si for their “men-ruining ways”, 博君一笑 has become a flattering phrase, emphasising on the devotion and love rather than the ... stupidity behind the smile-inducing acts.

(Bao Si’s story, BTW, was a lie made up by historians who also lived later but also thousands of years ago, to absolve the uselessness of the king. Warning beacons didn’t exist at her time.)

Gg is arguably feminized even in his CP’s name. Gg’s feminisation is everywhere.

And here comes my confession time ~ I’ve been amused by most of the feminisation terms above. 肖妲己 (”Daji Xiao”) captures my imagination, and I remain quite partial to the CP name BJYX. Somehow, there’s something ... somewhat forgivable when the feminisation is based on Gg’s beauty, especially in the context of the historical Danmei / Dangai setting of MDZS/TU ~ something that, while doesn’t cancel, dampens the “problematic-ness” of the gender mis-identification.

What, exactly, is this something?

Here’s my new hypothesis, and hopefully I’ll manage to explain it well ~

The hypothesis is this: the unisex beauty standard for historical Chinese men and women, which is also breathtakingly similar to the modern beauty standard for Chinese women, makes feminisation in the context of Danmei (especially historical Danmei) flattering, and easier to accept.

What defined beauty in historical Chinese men? If I am to create a classically beautiful Chinese man for my new historical Danmei, how would I describe him based on what I’ve read, my cultural knowledge?

Here’s a list:

* Skin fair and smooth as white jade * Thin, even frail; narrow/slanted shoulders; tall * Dark irises and bright, starry eyes * Not too dense, neat eyebrows that are shaped like swords ~ pointed slightly upwards from the center towards the sides of the face * Depending on the dynasty, nice makeup.

Imagine these traits. How “macho” are they? How much do they fit the ideal Chinese masculine beauty advertised by Chinese government, which looks like below?

Propaganda poster, 1969. The caption says “Defeat Imperialist US! Defeat Social Imperialism!” The book’s name is “Quotations from Mao Zedong”. (Source)

Where did that list of traits I’ve written com from? Fair like jade, frail ... why are they so far from the ... “macho”ness of the men in the poster?

What has Chinese history said about its beautiful men?

Wei Jie (衛玠 286-312 BCE), one of the four most beautiful ancient Chinese men (古代四大美男) recorded in Chinese history famously passed away when fans of his beauty gathered and formed a wall around him, blocking his way. History recorded Wei as being frail with chronic illness, and was only 27 years old when he died. Arguably the first historical account of “crazy fans killing their idol”, this incident left the idiom 看殺衛玠 ~ “Wei Jie being watched to death.” ~ a not very “macho” way to die at all.

潘安 (Pan An; 247-300 BCE), another one of the four most beautiful ancient Chinese men, also had hoards of fangirls, who threw fruits and flowers at him whenever he ventured outside. The Chinese idiom 擲果盈車 “thrown fruit filling a cart” was based on Pan and ... his fandom, and denotes such scenarios of men being so beautiful that women openly displayed their affections for them.

Meanwhile, when Pan went out with his equally beautiful male friend, 夏侯湛 Xiahou Zhan, folks around them called them 連璧 ~ two connected pieces of perfect jade. Chinese Jade is white, smooth, faintly glowing in light, so delicate that it gives the impression of being somewhat transparent.

Aren’t Wei Jie and Pan An reminiscent of modern day Chinese idols, the “effeminate” “Little Fresh Meat”s (小鲜肉) so panned by Article O3? Their stories, BTW, also elucidated the historical reference in LWJ’s description of being jade-like in MDZS, and in WWX and LWJ being thrown pippas along the Gusu river bank.

Danmei, therefore, didn’t create a trend of androgynous beauty in men as much as it has borrowed the ancient, traditional definition of masculine Chinese beauty ~ the beauty that was more feminine than masculine by modern standards.

[Perhaps, CPs should be renamed 連璧 (”two connected pieces of perfect jade”) as a reminder of the aesthetics’ historical roots.]

Someone may exclaim now: But. But!! Yet another one of the four most beautiful ancient Chinese men, 高長恭 (Gao Changgong, 541-573 BCE), far better known by his title, 蘭陵王 (”the Prince of Lanling”), was a famous general. He had to be “macho”, right?

... As it turns out, not at all. Historical texts have described Gao as “貌柔心壮，音容兼美” (”soft in looks and strong at heart, beautiful face and voice”), “白美類婦人” (”fair and beautiful as a woman”), “貌若婦人” (”face like a woman”). Legends have it that The Prince of Lanling’s beauty was so soft, so lacking in authority that he had to wear a savage mask to get his soldiers to listen to his command (and win) on the battlefield (《樂府雜錄》: 以其顏貌無威，每入陣即著面具，後乃百戰百勝).

This should be emphasised: Gao’s explicitly feminine descriptions were recorded in historical texts as arguments *for* his beauty. Authors of these texts, therefore, didn’t view the feminisation as insult. In fact, they used the feminisation to drive the point home, to convince their readers that men like the Prince of Lanling were truly, absolutely good looking.

Being beautiful like a women was therefore high praise for men in, at least, significant periods in Chinese history ~ periods long and important enough for these records to survive until today. Beauty, and so it goes, had once been largely free of distinctions between the masculine and feminine.

One more example of an image of an ancient Chinese male beauty being similar to its female counterpart, because the history nerd in me finds this fun.

何晏 (He Yan, ?-249 BCE) lived in the Wei Jin era (between 2nd to 4th century), during which makeup was really en vogue. Known for his beauty, he was also famous for his love of grooming himself. The emperor, convinced that He Yan’s very fair skin was from the powder he was wearing, gave He Yan some very hot foods to eat in the middle of the summer. He Yan began to sweat, had to wipe himself with his sleeves and in the process, revealed to the emperor that his fair beauty was 100% natural ~ his skin glowed even more with the cosmetics removed (《世說新語·容止第十四》: 何平叔美姿儀，面至白。魏明帝疑其傅粉，正夏月，與熱湯餅。既啖，大汗出，以朱衣自拭，色轉皎然). His kick-cosmetics’-ass fairness won him the nickname 傅粉何郎 (”powder-wearing Mr He”).

Not only would He Yan very likely be mistaken as a woman if this scene is transferred to a modern setting, but this scene can very well fit inside a Danmei story of the 21st century and is very, very likely to get axed by the Chinese censorship board for its visualisation.

[Important observation from this anecdote: the emperor was totally into this trend too.]

The adjectives and phrases used above to describe these beautiful ancient Chinese men ~ 貌柔, 音容兼美, 白美, 美姿儀, 皎然 ~ have all become pretty much reserved for describing beauty in women nowadays. Beauty standards in ancient China were, as mentioned before, had gone through significantly long periods in which they were largely genderless. The character for beauty 美 (also in Danmei, 耽美) used to have little to no gender association. Free of gender associations as well were the names of many flowers. The characters for orchid (蘭) and lotus (蓮), for example, were commonly found in men’s names as late as the Republican era (early 20th century), but are now almost exclusively found in women’s names. Both orchid and lotus have historically been used to indicate 君子 (junzi, roughly, “gentlemen”), which have always been men. MDZS also has an example of a man named after a flower: Jin Ling’s courtesy name, given to him by WWX, was 如蘭 (”like an orchid”).

A related question may be this: why does ancient China associate beauty with fairness, with softness, with frailty? Likely, because Confucianist philosophy and customs put a heavy emphasis on scholarship ~ and scholars have mostly consisted of soft-spoken, not muscular, not working-under-the-sun type of men. More importantly, Confucianist scholars also occupied powerful government positions. Being, and looking like a Confucianist scholar was therefore associated with status. Indeed, it’s very difficult to look like jade when one was a farmer or a soldier, for example, who constantly had to toil under the sun, whose skin was constantly being dried and roughened by the elements. Having what are viewed as “macho” beauty traits as in the poster above ~ tanned skin, bulging muscles, bony structures (which also take away the jade’s smoothness) ~ were associated with hard labour, poverty and famine.

Along that line, 手無縛雞之力 (“hands without the strength to restrain a chicken”) has long been a phrase used to describe ancient scholars and students, and without scorn or derision. Love stories of old, which often centred around scholars were, accordingly, largely devoid of the plot lines of husbands physically protecting the wives, performing the equivalent of climbing up castle walls and fighting dragons etc. Instead, the faithful husbands wrote poems, combed their wife’s hair, traced their wife’s eyebrows with cosmetics (畫眉)...all activities that didn’t require much physical strength, and many of which are considered “feminine” nowadays.

Were there periods in Chinese history in which more ... sporty men and women were appreciated? Yes. the Tang dynasty, for example, and the Yuan and Qing dynasties. The Tang dynasty, as a very powerful, very open era in Chinese history, was known for its relations to the West (via the Silk Road). The Yuan and Qing dynasties, meanwhile, were established by Mongolians and Manchus respectively, who, as non-Han people, had not been under the influence of Confucian culture and grew up on horsebacks, rather than in schools.

The idea that beautiful Chinese men should have “macho” attributes was, therefore, largely a consequence of non-Han-Chinese influence, especially after early 20th century. That was when the characters for beauty (美), orchid (蘭), lotus (蓮) etc began their ... feminisation. The Chinese Communist Party (CCP), which started its reign of the country starting 1949, also has foreign roots, being a derivative of the Soviets, and its portrayal of ideal men has been based on the party’s ideology, painting them as members of the People’s Liberation Army (Chinese army) and its two major proletariat classes, farmers and industrial workers ~ all occupations that are “macho” in their aesthetics, but held at very poor esteem in ancient Chinese societies. All occupations that, to this day, may be hailed as noble by Chinese women, but not really deemed attractive by them.

Beauty, being an instinct, is perhaps much more resistant to propaganda.

If anything, the three terms Article O3 used to describe “effeminate” men ~ 奶油小生 “cream young men” (popularised in 1980s) , 花美男 “flowery beautiful men” (early 2000s), 小鲜肉 “little fresh meat” (coined in 2014 and still popular now) ~ only informs me how incredibly consistent the modern Chinese women’s view of ideal male beauty has been. It’s the same beauty the Chinese Communist Party has called feminine. It’s the same beauty found in Danmei. It’s the same beauty that, when witnessed in men in ancient China, was so revered that historians recorded it for their descendants to remember. It doesn’t mean there aren’t any women who appreciate the "macho” type ~ it’s just that, the appreciation for the non-macho type has never really gone out of fashion, never really changed. The only thing that is really changing is the name of the type, the name’s positive or negative connotations.

(Personally, I’m far more uncomfortable with the name “Little fresh meat” (小鲜肉) than 老婆 (wife). I find it much more insulting.)

Anyway, what I’d like to say is this: feminisation in Danmei ~ a genre that, by definition, is hyper-focused on aesthetics ~ may not be as "problematic” in Chinese as it is in English, because the Chinese tradition didn’t make that much of a differentiation between masculine and feminine beauty. Once again, this isn’t to say such mis-gendering isn’t disrespectful; it’s just that, perhaps, it is less disrespectful because Chinese still retains a cultural memory in which equating a beautiful man to a beautiful woman was the utmost flattery.

I must put a disclaimer here: I cannot vouch for this being true for the general Chinese population. This is something that is buried deep enough inside me that it took a lot of thought for me to tease out, to articulate. More importantly, while I grow up in a Chinese-speaking environment, I’ve never lived inside China. My history knowledge, while isn’t shabby, hasn’t been filtered through the state education system.

I’d also like to point out as well, along this line of thought, that in *certain* (definitely not all) aspects, Chinese society isn’t as sexist as the West. While historically, China has periods of extreme sexism against women, with the final dynasties of Ming and Qing being examples, I must (reluctantly) acknowledge Chairman Mao for significantly lifting the status of women during his rule. Here’s a famous quote of his from 1955:

婦女能頂半邊天 Women can lift half the skies

The first marriage code, passed in 1950, outlawed forced marriages, polygamy, and ensured equal rights between husband and wife. For the first time in centuries, women were encouraged to go outside of their homes and work. Men resisted at first, wanting to keep their wives at home; women who did work were judged poorly for their performance and given less than 50% of men’s wage, which further fuelled the men’s resistance. Mao said the above quote after a commune in Guizhou introduced the “same-work-same-wage” system to increase its productivity, and he asked for the same system to to be replicated across the country. (Source)

When Chairman Mao wanted something, it happened. Today, Chinese women’s contribution to the country’s GDP remains among the highest in the world. They make up more than half of the country’s top-scoring students. They’re the dominant gender in universities, in the ranks of local employees of international corporations in the Shanghai and Beijing central business districts—among the most sought after jobs in the country. While the inequality between men and women in the workplace is no where near wiped out — stories about women having to sleep with higher-ups to climb the career ladder, or even get their PhDs are not unheard of, and the central rulership of the Chinese Communist Party has been famously short of women — the leap in women’s rights has been significant over the past century, perhaps because of how little rights there had been before ~ at the start of the 20th century, most Chinese women from relatively well-to-do families still practised foot-binding, in which their feet were literally crushed during childhood in the name of beauty, of status symbol. They couldn’t even walk properly.

Perhaps, the contemporary Chinese women’s economic contribution makes the sexism they encounter in their lives, from the lack of reproductive rights to the “leftover women” label, even harder to swallow. It makes their fantasies fly to even higher, more defiant heights. The popularity of Dangai right now is pretty much driven by women, as acknowledged by Article O3. Young women, especially, female fans who people have dismissed as “immature”, “crazy”, are responsible for the threat the Chinese government is feeling now by the genre.

This is no small feat. While the Chinese government complains about the “effeminate” men from Danmei / Dangai, its propaganda has been heavily reliant on stars who have risen to popularity to these genres. The film Dd is currently shooting, Chinese Peacekeeping Force (維和部隊), also stars Huang Jingyu (黄景瑜), and Zhang Zhehan (張哲瀚) ~ the three actors having shot to fame from The Untamed (Dangai), Addicted (Danmei), and Word of Honour (Dangai) respectively. Zhang, in particular, played the “uke” role in Word of Honour and has also been called 老婆 (wife) by his fans. The quote in Article O3, “Ten years as a tough man known by none; one day as a beauty known by all” was also implicitly referring to him.

Perhaps, the government will eventually realise that millennia-old standards of beauty are difficult to bend, and by extension, what is considered appropriate gender expression of Chinese men and women.

In the metas I’ve posted, therefore, I’ve hesitated in using terms such as homophobia, sexism, and ageism etc, opting instead to make long-winded explanations that essentially amount to these terms (thank you everyone who’s reading for your patience!). Because while the consequence is similar—certain fraction of the populations are subjected to systemic discrimination, abuse, given less rights, treated as inferior etc—these words, in English, also come with their own context, their own assumptions that may not apply to the situation. It reminds me of what Leo Tolstoy wrote in Anna Karenina,

“All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

Discrimination in each country, each culture is humiliating, unhappy in its own way. Both sexism and homophobia are rampant in China, but as their roots are different from those of the West, the ways they manifest are different, and so must the paths to their dissolution. I’ve also hesitated on calling out individual behaviours or confronting individuals for this reason. i-Danmei fandoms are where i-fans and c-fans meet, where English-speaking doesn’t guarantee a non-Chinese sociopolitical background (there may be students from China, for example; I’m also ... not entirely Western), and I find it difficult to articulate appropriate, convincing arguments without knowing individual backgrounds.

Frankly, I’m not sure if I’ve done the right thing. Because I do hope feminisation will soon fade into extinction, especially in i-Danmei fandoms that, if they continue to prosper on international platforms, may eventually split from c-Danmei fandoms along the cultural (not language) line due to the vast differences in environmental constraints. My hope is especially true when real people are involved, and c-fandoms, I’d like to note, are not unaware of the issues surrounding feminisation ~ it has already been explicitly forbidden in BJYX’s supertopic on Weibo.

At the same time, I’ve spent so many words above to try to explain why beauty can *sometimes* lurk behind such feminisations. Please allow me to end this post with one example of feminisation that I deeply dislike—and I’ve seen it used by fans on Gg as well—is 綠茶 (”green tea”), from 綠茶婊 (”green tea whore”) that means women who look pure / innocent but are, deep down, promiscuous / lustful. In some ways, its meaning isn’t so different from Daji 妲己, the consort blamed for the fall of the Shang dynasty. However, to me at least, the flattery in the feminisation is gone, perhaps because of the character “whore” (婊), because the term originated in 2013 from a notorious sex party rather than from a legendary beauty so maligned that The Investiture of the Gods (封神演義), the seminal Chinese fiction written ~2,600 years after Daji’s death, re-imagined her as a malevolent fox spirit (狐狸精) that many still remembers her as today.

Ah, to be caught between two cultures. :)

#tell-me-everything #pie metas #yizhan #bjyx

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ibelonginthepast · 3 years

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Hunk for the character ask thing??

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HUNK!!!! FINALLY!!! I am such a ho for him sorry

Sexuality Headcanon: i have no particular fixed pref, he could be straight, but i like to think he's bi throughout. I think he is a believer of fluid sexuality, so he doesn't really fits himself in a label. He goes along with whoever he likes.

Gender Headcanon: I sometimes like to hc him as a trans man (ftm). He/him pronouns. He was cultured into toxic masculinity. He has had his struggles with it. He was teased for being soft because of his anxiety issues. His tendency to be emotional and expressive. He has had been a victim of toxic masculinity constantly, even adopted it and perpetuated it further for a while before giving up. He is passionate about healthy masculinity and really understands it now. He is a fierce feminist and in for breaking the patriarchy.

A ship I have with said character: the thing is i hate Canon. I dont like the first sight first meet fall in love kind of thing they did with hunk and shay, but with what I headcanon shay as, I think she is perfect for him. He would balance her head on approach to stuff, and she will balance his tendency to ponder. He is a total simp for shay. He's a sucker for a simple calm life, while shay is on the ambitious side, and he fully supports her.

A BROTP I have with said character: hance is a given. heith! I will fucking die for this. I love thinking up stories of how Keith, despite being the one to struggle to open up, will inevitably fall for hunk. Hunk is just so approachable, so welcoming, so loving. I see hunk as also very fierce. He will stand in front as a literal physical shield to protect the ones he loves. He is dedicated when he loves and he never gives up on anyone. This is something he will share with Keith. One of the only people who will relate with Keith on a soul level on this. Punk!!! I love it. So much. Hunk is just amazing at platonic relationships. Hunk takes care of pidge a lot, they are his sibling. They simp on tech together ofc!! Even tho Shiro is everyone's dad, hunk cares for him, brings him his energy drinks and blankets all the time cause let's be real Shiro is low-key wishing death all the time and does not care for himself. Hunk is one of those peeps who scream SHIRO! NO! everytime Shiro makes a bad joke about death. Hunk's caring nature extends to everyone. Allura again is bad at taking care of herself, and he helps. He defo teaches allura samoan box braids!!! Coran too. Hunk bakes with coran sitting beside, chatting unrelentlessly but here's the thing, Hunk doesn't tolerate it. He genuinely likes listening to people and knowing them. One of the reasons he goes so well with Lance.

A NOTP I have with said character: humph he could go with anyone ngl. Shunk is extra weird to me, Shiro is a dad through and through i ew shaladins.

A random headcanon:

Despite what people think, hunk thinks he struggles with words. He uses food to express love. If he feels distant with anyone, he cooks for them.

Hunk does get tired after caring for people so much, but he has healthy nice fam around him who he lets take care of him too. He knows he needs to care for himself, and after some time of struggling with it, he now proudly take care of himself as well.

Hunk has struggled with severe anxiety. He has had panic attacks, complete meltdowns. His family was a bit pressurizing in terms of his career and all, and he has always felt responsible to get an excellent job in the stem section to make his parents proud.

He got into stem because of his parents, but he developed his love for it later too. He genuinely started finding STEM very interesting.

He contributed in making of fun robots in school's stem centres all the time. He had a teacher who was obsessed with making anime monsters, and even though hunk himself hates gore and shit he had fun making those and sometimes watched those weird ass animes and talked about how those wild ass writers were defo on weed while writing the script. He bonded over weeb stuff surprisingly with Shiro ;)

He hasn't been the smartest forever, like pidge. He actually worked his way to it. He is very dedicated, hard working and passionate.

He has undiagnosed ADD, but it hasn't interferred with him fitting in much. He has been able to do his work, and he recognized some tricks to focus early in life. His anxiety drives him to work as much as it distracts him. he just discovers his ADD later in therapy.

He makes pretty notes. He has an unhealthy obsession with pastel yellow highlighter.

Hunk is very well equipped with samoan tattoo art designs and understanding them. it's something his grandparents taught him since forever. His grandfather did tattoos and he saw them when he was little. He wants to get atleast some sort of soga'i miki. He's been always conflicted about wanting Pe'a cause its so beautiful and masculine in expression and not wanting it because it's so painful and permanent.

Because he has lived in America his whole life, he has struggled with his national identity a lot. He gets taunted by by family in samoa for being American and for speaking english better than samoan. He doenst always fit in well in america either for obvious reasons. He has struggled with feeling like he belongs. Its something he bonds with Lance on.

He is passionate about dismantling the social organization in samoa and its ill effects. He understands the systems and talks about their unfairness. This is something his distant and traditional family members get annoyed at him for.

He talks passionately about the freedom struggles of samoa and the samoan civil wars. He likes listening to stories of freedom fighters of samoa and great leaders. He is very critical of European colonization and takes no shit from europe apologists.

He is low-key a Satanist and likes to tell people about how God was super sexist to Lilith and how absolutely bullshit her banishment was,, how Satan is the coolest first feminist and made her the queen she is, and how Satan is the coolest dude for being the first rebel and equalist. He talks about how he gave us knowledge, and it created the world we are in rn or else we would still be all dumb and naked in the garden. His family is Christian and religious, he has read stories from bibles and come to the conclusions himself.

General Opinion over said character: i am horribly sad but I swear to God one cuddle from this cinnamon roll will cure me of everything

IMP NOTE: I am not samoan, but I read about countries where my favorite characters are from sometimes. I have started reading about che and communist Cuba for Lance too ;) All this info is from the internet, and I cannot say for sure its all good and true. If I am wrong with anything, please point it out.

THANKS FOR THIS! Now go drink water <3

#hunk garrett #voltron

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gildedmuse · 4 years

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Question, which ship do you personally find the most cannon, ZoLu, ZoSan or ZoLaw? To expand on the question which ship for you has the most potential to possibly become cannon, I personally love all the ships, but I was wondering your thoughts on it? Ps reallyyyy love your AO3 works especially the ZoLaw! And the headcanon about them being trained by Rayleigh in the Modern AU!!!

Short Answer:

Zoro x Luffy is obviously the ship that makes the most sense and has the most examples you can point to in the canon while saying, "see that, that is love."

Long Answer No One Cares About:

This question awoke something dark inside of me, and I apologize for the overly long answer.

So, here's the thing: I don't really like 99% of "crack" ships which I would personally define as characters who have never met, whose personalities clash with one another's, and who share no common traits or grounds on which they might potentially relate to one another. Pretty much, if you have to invent a secret, noncanon background that totally changes a character's personality so that they can hook up with another character, I'm probably not going to ship it. Though, hey, if that's your thing you fly that flag high and proud. Shippers should support other shippers, regardless of cargo.

Buuuut.... At the same time, I also do not give a fuck about my ships being canon. Not only because, hey, it's my imagination and I'll do what I want with it, thank you very much, but also being a canon ship doesn't mean shit. Just because a creator decided two characters should hook up doesn't mean that it's logical or sound or feasible or healthy or somehow more "correct" than other pairings. In fact, what it usually means is that one character is a man, the other is a woman, and they are both attractive. Which, you know, is a pretty bullshit reason to start a relationship. If you've ever gone out with someone solely because they're attractive and the opposite gender of yourself than either:

Congratulations on what I hope was some truly amazing sex

So sorry about that awkward sexual encounter

You likely have first hand experience on how unstable and unsustainable such relationships can be.

So being a canon ship does not necessarily give you a pass in my books. For starters, most of my ship's be gay as fuck, and as someone who grow up without a lot of gay representation in media, I have learned not to expect anything despite how OBVIOUSLY DEEPLY CONNECTED characters might be.

[Side Note: And, yes, it's mostly male characters, because throughout the history of entertainment culture the vast majority was created by people men who had total faith in their ability to write realistic female characters despite all evidence pointing to the fact that they never once talked to an actual real life woman. I mean, how hard could it be? All women have basically the same personalty traits (boobs) and everyone knows female are monolithic group whose sole purpose in life is finding the most protagonistic male out there and immediately become his love interest. Which is why I just don't even bother with folks who look down on fans of slash/yaoi/gay ass ships because in a frankly sad amount of media, these pairings often make more practical sense as well as being more appealing to those of us who want romantic relationships based on personality, shared interests, or just between two well developed characters rather than one fully realized character and one cardboard cut out of Generic Attractive Female Person.]

When female characters are written as stereotypes whose defining characteristics is "she's a girl!" then of course the male characters with fully realized personalities and complex characterization will appeal to most people, including those of us who prefers their romantic pairings to have an actual foundation outside of "penis + vagina = love" it makes sense to ship the male characters who we get to see build a relationship, share common interests/traits/goals, and just generally ) So I have accepted that canon couples often mean nothing, because when it comes to romance so many creators are stuck in some heteronormative mindset where they totally forget all the work they've done building the character and defining their personality and sticking them with the first person they meet that has tits.

Basically, I am an English major whose end game is to be a college professor. And I am all about Death Of The Author, but also Show Me Your Workings. I don't need a relationship to be canon, what I need is for there to be a reason behind it. Preferably one that is deeper than "Tarzan love Jane because man loves woman" or "but they're both so pretty!!!!"

Taking all that into account, Zoro and Luffy were my first ship for a reason. There are so many little moments between the two you can point at as proof of their devotion and love (romantic or platonic, however you prefer to see it) for one another. I don't just mean the way Zoro took all Luffy's pain. I'm talking about how Luffy will always say things like, "I hope Zoro and the others are okay" or "When we get there I want to have huge feast with Zoro and the others". How often do you designate one of your friends over all the rest, naming them apart from the group? Personally, I either name everyone or no one, the exception being if one of them is someone I'm dating and therefore actually in a separate category from my other friends.

It's the way Zoro has all this nonverbal dialogue with Luffy which allows him to implicitly trust in whatever mad scheme Luffy has cooked up. When more rational people (Nami and Usopp) object out if, you know, sanity, Zoro can always tell when Luffy's plans are just silly gun, when he's throwing out his first thought just to say something, and when he's statement is made with full, unyielding conviction. And Zoro believes in Luffy enough that, when his captain has that level of assuredness, Zoro has no reason to doubt in him. Zoro is a man of actions - while oaths and promises are important, they only meant anything if you always follow through with actions. Luffy never fails to turn his promises into deeds, and so in a way they speak the same language. They understand one another on a deeper level.

And again, it's small things. The way Luffy can get even post-time skip Zoro to smile, or how Luffy will offer to share his lunch with Zoro, the way at the coliseum in Dressrosa, Zoro gets upset about Luffy not informing him there was a fight and Luffy actually apologizing. They have all these little moments to show how deeply connected they are, how much they understand one another, and more importantly how much faith they have in one another so even when one of them might not fully understand the other's reasoning, they never fail to support one another or know the other will pull through.

In my opinion, that is the bases of a strong relationship. That support and understanding; the sense that even if one of them may fail (and almost get chopped in half as a result) or fuck up (see Luffy. Just... Luffy) that it doesn't lessen the other one's believe in them. If anything, they know these set backs mean the other will fight twice as hard to come back even stronger.

I could literally list a thousand moments when they have each other's backs, when the whole crew doubts one of the except for the other, when they offer support even if it's unpopular or seems crazy. And yet they still have little fights, they aren't "made for one another" the way shallow love interests often are, but when it comes to the important moments they trust one another implicitly and show unwavering acceptance without the other having to validate or explain their reasoning. Luffy trusts Zoro with the crew's life, the most important thing in Luffy's world, and Zoro... Well in many ways Luffy has become the most important thing in his world. You see it the moment Zoro kowtows in front of Mihawk - the man Zoro has sworn to defeat and who is at the center of Zoro's life goal - all because Luffy needs him to be stronger; for the crew, to achieve Luffy's dream.

Mihawk even thinks to himaelf, who is the man you are willing to set aside your pride for, because he knows men like Zoro and the only reason they would ask such a favour from a rival is out of loyalty to someone.

So, yeah, not that it matters, but I'm terms of canon, Mihawk basically says, "this kid is in love, only someone in love would be so willing to set aside their dreams and goals for those of someone else."

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ofthomas · 4 years

Photo

⌠ GIANCARLO COMMARE, 23, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, THOMAS “TOMMY” BLACK! according to their records, they’re a THIRD year, specializing in PROTECTION & ENFORCEMENT + AWARENESS TRAINING, BREATH CONTROL HAND TO HAND COMBAT; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (disheveled brunette curls, the soft strum of an acoustic guitar, cigarette smoke clung to a white t-shirt, and a serious, unwavering gaze). when it’s the (pisces)’s birthday on 3/08/97, they always request their PASTA BOLOGNESE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ deanna, 25, she/her, est ⍀

NAME: Thomas Edward Black

KNOWN AS: Tommy

BIRTHDATE: March 8, 1997

ASTROLOGY: Pisces sun / Pisces moon / Virgo rising

HOMETOWN: London, England

GENDER: Cis male ( he/him )

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Pansexual

HEIGHT: 6'1"

HAIR COLOR: Brown

EYE COLOR: Brown

TATTOOS: Hummingbird on his forearm

KNOWN LANGUAGES: English, Spanish, French, Portuguese, Italian, Arabic

IMMEDIATE FAMILY.

Robert Black: father, former MI5 agent, now mercenary

George Eaton: father, owner of Quantum Tech

Charles Eaton: brother ( adopted )

FALL ‘20 SCHEDULE.

PE 301: The Power of Deescalation

GEN 103: Know Your Treaties

AT 301: Disarming the Enemy

TE 202: Advanced Hand-to-Hand

AE 101: What is Encryption?

CP 202: Covert Ops in the Public Eye

ABOUT.

Tommy is one of two adopted sons of two Blackthorne alums and spy legacies who fell in love, Robert Black & George Eaton. To understand Tommy is to understand his dads:

The Eaton family is an American legacy family, though by the time Tommy and his brother are adopted, George Eaton has moved out of the spy world and instead uses his knowledge of technology to start a software development company and AIs. They had only adopted two kids because George had reached a breakthrough in his company -- one of his employees had created an AI that they had been working towards -- but not long afterwards the AI work ( and the employee who created it ) went missing. After this, his company slowly starts a downwards spiral, and it financially affects the Black-Eaton family badly.

The missing employee eventually is found and killed by Robert so they can steal back the software, but it ends up being the wrong software they had stolen back. As far as they’re concerned, the software died with the employee ( Ophelia’s mom ) .

Robert Black’s grandfather was a former Chief of Intelligence at MI5, making the Black family well-known in the UK spy world. After graduating from Blackthorne, he had been able to get his own job at MI5, which was the reason for him and George moving to London together. More to come about him later !

Tommy and his brother ( who aren’t blood relatives, but were adopted together ) , are kept in the loop with everything regarding the spy world, because one they too would follow in their fathers’ footsteps and join the spy world. It could’ve easily been a stressful situation to grow up in, but Tommy’s dads have always been kind and he has a positive relationship with them both, so the spy world has been a future that Tommy has always wanted for himself, rather than one his parents are pushing him into.

At the age of eight Tommy gets really sick and nearly doesn’t make it. It’s a miracle that he survives, but the family suddenly have all these bills and doesn’t know how to pay for them. Robert is far too proud to ask his family for money ( will forever feel on thin ice with them because of his sexuality, which took them a long time to come to terms with ) , and George’s company is bleeding money each day, so they’re forced to take matters into his own hands.

Robert has no choice but to quietly moonlight as a hitman for extra cash. And the money’s great, at least for a while ! He continues it well after they’ve paid off the bills, though eventually MI5 finds out and immediately fires and blacklists him to work for any other spy agencies. It’s a rough life, and the Black and Eaton families shame them and stop speaking to them for a long time. Tommy, of course, internalizes this as his fault, knowing it only had to be done because he got sick. While his dads never made him feel like that ( because I cannot stress enough that he does not have daddy issues okay ) , it makes him decide that no matter what, everything he does going forward will be for the sake of his parents.

So he becomes the perfect son, making sure to get the best grades and getting into the best prep school ( tesch prep ) so he had a smooth acceptance into his higher education goal : Blackthorne Institute. Both his fathers had loved it there ( and not just because they had met there ) , so Tommy knows that it’s the place for him.

Despite his better judgment, his dads convince him to take a year off after high school and have some fun before going to Blackthorne ( gee i wonder why ) . He spends this time traveling and working odd jobs to save money, and it’s during his travels that he meets a civilian and falls in love. One year turns into two because of this relationship, and he’s so love he’s seriously considering giving up his plans for good, but it’s his brother that is able to talk sense into him and remind him of the life he had left behind. Tommy, unfortunately, is a wuss and can’t deal with saying goodbye himself, because he knows he doesn’t have it in him to make the right move, so he has his brother be the one to essentially end things with her. What he doesn’t know is that his brother tells the girl Tommy died, haha !

So Tommy and his brother move to America and go to Blackthorne together… and maybe it’s because of all the stories he had heard, or because Tommy WANTS to like it so badly, but he really loves his time there. Sure, it’s dirtier and not as nice as he had imagined it to be, but he’s surrounded by people in the business that he wants to be in. He’s also quick to realize how much of a mistake taking two years off had been, because it takes him nearly an entire semester to get back to the skill level he had been at previously. Tommy vows to not let anything else get in the way of his career, at least until he has something to show for himself.

He had been bitter when Blackthorne closed and he’s still bitter about it now, because number one on his list of goals had always been to graduate from his parents’ alma mater. So naturally he’s bitter about being at Gallagher, and thinks it’s not as great as Blackthorne, especially after the disaster explosion that was last year. He won’t voice his opinion to just anyone, because he’s not looking to get chewed out, but he’s not a fan.

He’s about as serious as he sounds, personality wise. It takes a lot to make him smile and a lot more to make him laugh, and Tommy is more known for raising his hand in class or outside smoking a cigarette than much else. He’s quiet but not shy, just doesn’t see the point in talking without purpose ( and hates when people do it themselves ) . Has his eye on the prize which is a nice job for himself and being successful and making his dads proud. He’s a lil broody and sarcastic, kinda gets mistaken for a bad boy but? He’s not? He’s a giant fucking nerd thanks.

Also really into music!!! It’s kinda his thing from when he was a kid. He knows how to play piano, guitar, and bass.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

A bestie!!!

Other musicians he can jam out with ty

Friends from Blackthorne!!!

Ex-Roommates

Friends in general (though lbr they’d have to take school seriously and deal with his quiet ass)

Family friends

People he met while traveling, particularly in Italy and the UK

On-again-off-again hookup

Others in his major

Smoking buddies

People he doesn’t like bc they don’t take their studies seriously

People who don’t like him

Someone have a crush on his brooding ass

Literally anything from his previous year at Gallagher

look here pls

I’m legit blanking but anything pls!!

#gallagher:intro

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sweetsmellosuccess · 4 years

Text

TIFF 2020: Days 1 & 2

Films: 5 Best Film of the Day(s): One Night in Miami

One Night in Miami…: I guess you could form an argument that basing a film on a pre-existing play would make the feature easier to put together, but that wouldn’t be taking into account the tremendous differences between the mediums, their relative strengths and weaknesses. For her feature debut, the Oscar-winning actress Regina King has cinematically adapted the stage play by Kemp Powers about a fictionalized fateful night amongst four famous Black men in 1964. Those men, Malcolm X (Kingsley Ben-Adir), Jim Brown (Aldis Hodge), Sam Cooke (Leslie Odom Jr.), and Cassius Clay (Eli Goree), are all in town ostensibly to celebrate Clay’s beatdown of Sonny Liston to first become the heavyweight champion of the world at the tender age of 22. But the film puts them all together in Malcolm X’s modest hotel room, watched over by Nation of Islam security men, to spend a night, essentially, debating the merits of what they bring to the struggle for Black equality and economic emancipation, and arguing back and forth about their distinct positions. Here is precisely where many play adaptations falter, without the dramatic friction of a live performance to power the emotional core, such conventions generally fall flat on the screen, but King’s virtuoso acting instincts serve her able cast well, and her work with DP Tami Reiker allows the film to flow, seemingly organically between its few location movements. Working from a skilled script by Powers, the celebrated figures feel three dimensional, which gives even their more didactic diatribes (Malcolm), and pithy rebuttals (Cooke) enough weight to avoid sounding contrived. The cast work wonders on the material, granting a needed organic vibe to their nonfiction characters, echoing the essences without tipping into caricature. It’s a strong debut for King, and the film’s complex ruminations on the responsibility of successful Black people towards their community as a means of bringing attention to the country’s oppression couldn’t be more on point. At one point Clay tells Cooke the four of them will always remain friends, because they are among the few who can possibly understand what it’s like to be “young, Black, famous, righteous, and unapologetic.”

Shiva Baby: Danielle (Rachel Sennott) is in the midst of having a day. Turns out Max (Danny Deferrari), the sugar daddy with whom she has frequently been visiting as part of her regular prostitution gig, is somehow a friend or cousin of the deceased at the same Shiva she has come to attend with her well-meaning, but completely overwhelming parents (Polly Draper and Fred Melamed). If that weren’t enough in Emma Seligman’s spry comedy, Danielle is also horrified to find Maya (Molly Gordon), a successful young woman she’s known for years, and a recent ex, also there. Crammed into the Shiva house, full of cousins and aunts and uncles all kvetching about everyone else, and being physically grabbed and moved about by her mother, Danielle faces this house of horrors, with everyone commenting concernedly on her weight-loss (“You look like Gwyneth Paltrow — on food stamps!” her mother hisses at her), and her lack of job prospects when she graduates, and her parents telling scathingly embarrassing stories about her in front of Max and his shiksa wife (Dianna Argon), whose 18-month-old baby, her mom says is “freakishly pale — and no nose,” with no respite in sight. As a result of this sort of hyper-scrutiny, Danielle goes the only route that makes any sense: Lying to everybody about nearly everything, from her current major (“gender business”), to the many job interviews she has supposedly lined up. She’s just trying to get through the ordeal, one that Seligman, along with a continually spiraling score from Ariel Marx, ratchets up, until, near the end, poor Danielle is in a near fugue state, sweat glistening on her face, and the attendees, shot in unflattering slo-mo, and distorted lenses, take on the sheen of a waking nightmare. At a brisk 77 minutes, the film still doesn’t have quite enough to sustain its running time — at a certain point it begins doubling back on itself — but it’s still a lot of horrific fun, as Seligman expertly captures the absolute loss of agency one can feel, swallowed up in a claustrophobic family gathering, where escape feels futile.

Limbo: If Scotland has a cinematic identity, as such, it seems like the kind of place, desolate and unforgiving, where individuals come to exit regular society and come to a land filled with eccentric loners (stoic and unique in their oddities), in order to get better in touch with their souls. Ben Sharrock’s serio-comedy captures both the pitiless beauty of the land, and the lonely plight of a Syrian immigrant, Omar (Amir El-Masry), waiting with a group of other men from across the Middle East and Africa, on an island off the mainland, for word from the Immigration Office that his bid for political asylum has been accepted. Omar, sweet-faced and approachable, was a musician by trade in his native Syria, and walks around everywhere carrying his precious oud, bequeathed to him by his grandfather, also a musician, even though his right hand is locked in a cast from an unspecified injury. Even without the cast, however, you get the sense that his heart really isn’t into playing, despite the entreaties from Farhad (Vikash Bhai), his Afghani roomie and self-appointed “agent and manager,” who wants him to enter a local music contest. Omar is carrying a significant amount of weight beyond missing his mother’s fragrant home-cooking. Talking to her on the lone payphone on the island, where other immigrants-in-waiting stand in line for a chance to hear from home, she implores him to speak to his older brother, who chose to stay behind in Syria and fight in the Civil War that has plagued the region for years. Omar feels guilty for having left, and suffers from having disappointed his father in the process. It doesn’t help him that the culture he finds himself in seems so foreign to him, despite his speaking flawless English. Sharrock’s brand of deadpan perfectly suits the setting, but as funny as the film can be (when asked in a culture/language class to create a sentence using the “I used to” construction, one immigrant offers “I used to be happy before I came here”), it doesn’t paint a rosy affirmation for Omar and his ilk, stuck as they are, as the title suggests, between countries and lives. Omar’s pain is real, and for every positive step forward he takes, it’s one further away from his family and his beloved home country.

Enemies of the State: Sonia Kennebeck’s challenging and curious documentary seems at first to present a case for its protagonist, Matt DeHart, a young teen hacker interested in social justice, who through his work with Wikileaks runs afoul of the U.S. government, and his beleaguered parents, Paul and Leann, who vigorously defend their only child against the evil forces conspiring against him. Through a series of personal interviews with Paul and Leann, both retired Air Force intelligence officers, who believe their country has turned against them for what Matt had downloaded from his computer into secret thumbdrives shortly before the FBI arrived at their door and confiscated all his equipment, and various lawyers they employed, first to protect Matt from what they claim as utterly bogus child-porn charges, then, after they slip away to Canada in the middle of the night, the lawyers trying to earn them asylum. While in Canada, under close supervision and confined to his parents’ apartment, Matt uses his charms, his hackavist bonafides, and his skill at PR, to generate enough interest in his case to become a digital cause celebe, along the lines of Edward Snowden and Chelsea Manning. Protests are fronted, defense funds gathered, and pressure put on the government to come clean about why they seem so hard-driving against the young man. During a peculiar reenactment set in a Canadian immigration hearing — Kennebeck employs actors who apparently lip sync their lines in perfect time with the actual recorded audio — DeHart describes a harrowing ordeal earlier in the affair, after having moved to Canada to attend college, being abducted by the FBI shortly after crossing the border to renew his Visa, and tortured for days for information related to the material on the thumb-drives. Some documentation seems to corroborate his claims (even Paul and Leann, as fierce supporters as can be, were shocked to see just how ready the FBI were to snatch him), but as the film continues, and we hear more and more from the investigators and prosecuting attorneys about the original child-pornography crimes, it becomes clear that our sympathies are being played with by Kennebeck. By the end, the film itself becomes an indictment of our rapid-assumption culture, in which decisions of guilt and innocence are determined in seconds online and forever after based on the presentation of information before us.

The Way I See It: For non Trumpites, the switchover from eight years of the dignified, intelligent, and measured leadership of Barack Obama, to the perma-tanned tackiness of power-mad, narcissistic bloviating of Donald Trump, was like a double-feature that went from Citizen Kane to Kevin James’ Loudest Farts. One man better than most to measure Obama’s time in office against the subsequent regime is photojournalist Pete Souza, who served as the official White House photographer for both of Obama’s terms, and has gone on to become an outspoken critic of Trump by way of his devastating IG account, in which he juxtaposes stately Obama photos with Trumps scandal-du-jour. Lest you think he’s just another divisively partisan liberal, you have to take into account his previous turn in the White House, as one of the official photographers for Ronald Reagan’s presidency. In fact, Souza’s fly-on-the-wall quality was considered one of his strengths in the oval office. Documentarian Dawn Porter travels with Souza as he makes the media rounds promoting his newest book, Shade, a collection of those IG photos that have earned him millions of social media followers (a sort of companion piece to his previous book Obama: An Intimate Portrait). Hauling from far-off India (where he gets a standing ovation before he even takes the stage), to domestic conferences and speaking engagements, Souza emerges as a man becoming more used to being out from behind his ever-present Canon lens. Through that lens, as he displays to his rapturous audiences, he has taken many hundreds of indelible photos, showing Obama’s various interactions with foreign dignitaries, his council of cabinet members, and his more raucous time with his two daughters (one shot of Obama with his girls making snow angels on the rear lawn during a heavy snow storm remains his computer screensaver, Souza says with pride). As Porter moves from talking heads to public oratories, Souza’s remarkable photos — brilliantly composed, and inspiringly intimate, having been given nearly unlimited access to the president — play throughout, showing us a collection of images that capture the inspiring hope the president inspired and the agonizing rigors of the job he was elected to perform. The film spends little time on his Reagan years, except to note how media and image-savvy the former Hollywood actor and his wife were (Souza professes no political ill-will towards the Reagans, other than noting that while he didn’t always agree with him, he was a genuinely caring man, who at least understood the parameters of leadership). At first, the film trolls Trump by a sort of subtweet level of backhandedness: Without directly naming names, Souza makes it entirely clear who he finds failing in comparison to Obama’s empathetic, engaging deportment, but by the time the film comes around to his notorious IG account, there can be no doubt the subject of his ire. Souza maintains it has less to do with his partisan feelings (his political affiliation is never revealed), and more the way he finds the current president’s undignified manner and total disrespect for the office and the leadership it demands unacceptable. Trumpers will of course take great exception to the portrait the film portrays of the sitting president, but even the most hardcore GOP folks won’t be able to help noting the blatant differences between the loving, genuinely close Obamas; and the preening, viciously competitive Trumps, each trying to outdo the others in acting as their father’s primary sycophant.

In a year of bizarre happenings, and altered realities, TIFF has shifted its gears to a significantly paired down virtual festival. Thus, U.S. film critics are regulated to watching the international offerings from our own living room couches.

#sweet smell of success #ssos #piers marchant #films #movies #TIFF #tiff 2020 #toronto international film festival #one night in miami #regina king #limbo #The way I see it #pete souza #nomadland #frances mcdormand #chloe zhao #the new corporation #summer of 85 #francois ozon

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rebellect-writes · 4 years

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[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] 22. [b]Spare space in the brain?:[/b] No.

[align=center][IMG]http://i46.tinypic.com/242h8ie.jpg[/IMG] [/align]

[b]Name:[/b] William Kubiak. [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b] [LIST] [*] Birth Name: Darren William Kubiak. [*] Will, Kubiak, 'Oi, you!', Argumentative. [/LIST][b]Age:[/b] 31. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] August 10, 1981. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Openly bisexual. [b]Occupation:[/b] Security for Aaru Transport.

[b]Animal Species:[/b] Polar Bear ([i]Ursus maritimus[/i].) [b]Animal Description: [/b] [IMG]http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ltovfif8Au1qzya49o1_500.jpg[/IMG] [i]Weight:[/i] 1400lbs. [i]Height:[/i] 4.5 feet at the shoulders; 10.5 feet on his hind legs. [i]Length[/i] 9.5 feet. [i]Coat:[/i] Thick and white. [b]Do you have a hybrid/alpha form?:[/b] No! [b]Rank:[/b] Rogue. [b]How long has your character been a lycanthrope?:[/b] 9 and a half years. [b]Mindset:[/b] Dominant enough. [b]Power level:[/b] Beta.

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Ben Barnes. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/willbear.png[/IMG] [i]Height:[/i] 6'1 [i]Weight:[/i] 175lbs. [i]Eyes:[/i] Really dark brown, though they look black. [i]Hair:[/i] Brown and cut short. [i]Build:[/i] Slim and lean. [i]Visible marks:[/i] William has a few scars actually. The worst is a thick diagonal scar that runs from the inside of his elbow midway to his shoulder. The other notable scar is runs for two inches on the side of his right knee where he broke his leg as a kid. His only tattoo is a black [URL=http://i118.photobucket.com/albums/o82/tehkawaiibunny/benbarnes02.gif]cross[/URL] on the right side of his upper chest which he got when he was younger and dumber. [i]Style:[/i] He prefers easy casual. If it’s comfy and reliable, he’ll stick with what he knows. Jeans and a t-shirt with a sturdy pair of boots are all part of his general wardrobe. However when the occasion arises, William can pull of a suit with ease. Neck ties are a no. Nay. Never.

[b]Special Skills:[/b][LIST] [*] Has a habit of switching accents between Irish and indistinguishable (area wise) British. It doesn’t help when he gets angry of course, words get shortened and the Irish accent comes back in full force. [*] Growing up in a mostly none English speaking household, William can speak, write and understand Irish Gaelic. [*] Knows how to handle a firearm, and he even has a full licence and carry permit. [*] Information Gathering. Now, he knows where to look for the [i]right[/i] information without getting scammed and sent on a wild goose chase. [*] Technologically minded. He’s good at fixing broken things and righting techie issues. [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b] [LIST]Appearances can be deceptive, can’t they? To a lot of people, William appears nothing more than a little bit cocky, a little cynical and somewhat lazy thug, with next to no self-control and a smart mouth the side of Antarctica. That’s fine with him at the end of the day, because he doesn’t really care what people think or say about him bar a few close exceptions in his life that he spends the majority of his time with. For those that don’t see what’s beneath the surface, William rarely lets that get to him for longer than five minutes or the time it takes him to fetch another beer. To them he’s an asshole and that’s as deep as it goes.

His moods dictate a lot of Will’s actions, for example if he’s with someone that he’s known for a long time, he’s likely to be more relaxed and easy going despite the situation he’s in or the conversation going at the time. However, on the other hand if he’s with someone that he doesn’t know, things can be a little uncomfortable on all sides since he doesn’t easily trust from the get-go. Like I said, it’s all about his mood at the time. He has a habit of putting up barriers to stop people from poking their nose into his business and dragging him into theirs, generally he reacts with snark and a “I don’t give a flying fuck” attitude and if that doesn’t work, he’s not above lashing out and using threats to get someone away from him. At his worst, he can be painfully blunt and to the point, say things that others would rather beat around the bush about, and be generally vicious when it comes to other people’s emotions. At his best, he can be a cheeky little flirt that will listen to people’s problems and offer some kind of solution.

William is extremely loyal to his family, there’s no doubt about that, and there’s very little that he wouldn’t do for his mother or anyone of his sisters. Even though he’s had to put up with a lot of crap from his father and been dragged into a lot of mess because of it. Despite that, he still can’t bring himself to cut ties completely with the man and remove him from his life. The loyalty stretches to others as well, like people who’ve impacted his life in a way that others haven’t been able to. These people, his inner circle of friends, lovers, whatever they happen to be, are in Will’s mind his family as well. One of his major fears is that something will take his family away from him, leaving him with nothing. It’s left him in a cold sweat before just thinking about it and he’s been left with nightmares because of someone saying that someone close to him was dead which he hasn’t gotten over. He’s a little insecure with the things that mean the most to him, but that can easily be put to bed.

William has a naturally mild rebellious temperament and often shows a desire to resist authority (and control) through generally playful gestures and words. He’s tried to bury the light-hearted playfulness over the years, but it does come out with a handful of people. He has to push people’s buttons and boundaries when he can, but it’s not always for an instantaneous effect. He’s fine with drawing things out. His general temperament and actions can be, on occasion, contradictory of themselves as underneath the playful persona, is a sadistic side that will quiet happily make someone hurt. He’s not necessarily evil, and compared to most people, he’s a saint. He just does the best he can with what he has to survive.

Just because of his don’t give a damn mentality, it doesn’t mean that Will’s incapable of anger. Sure it takes a lot to push his buttons to make him snap, but it’s possible. His temper isn’t what should worry people however; it’s the fact that he’s insanely stubborn and persistent. He’s been knocked on his ass time and time again, only to get back to his feet and that’s something that won’t ever change with him. It’s why someone needs to pull him back at times, if he gets an idea into his head he’s likely to keep on going until he’s wears himself down or gets what he wants. He’s a sly one, and smarter than he looks, often spending more time processing things that could be useful than ignoring them, it’s just another contradiction and a part of him that he puts to good use.

As he more or less taught himself how to train his other nature, William’s not inclined to care about bear groups and politics. It’s nothing on them, as he just doesn’t understand the whole hierarchy thing, though he’s more than willing to take a poke at it and try and understand it. As a rule though, he’d rather just avoid any trouble that could crop up from tying himself down to a group and live as a rogue. The way he sees it is that he’s done alright (mostly) by himself, so he doesn’t need the help and security that something like a sleuth could give. He could care less about other supernaturals as long as they keep their nose out of his business or their fangs out of his throat.

What a bloody confusing mess he is, he’d give a therapist a nervous breakdown. [/LIST][b]Likes:[/b][LIST] [*] Cooking. It’s relaxing and it gives him some time to think. [*] Cutting the speed limits on his [URL=http://www.ducati.ms/gallery/files/3/2/8/9/1/996black.jpg]Ducati 996[/URL]. [*] People with a backbone that stand up for themselves. [*] Seeing Keegan smile, but shhhh! Don’t tell him. [*] Movie nights in. [*] His sisters. Pains in the arse some of them may be. [*] Hitting the pub after work. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b][LIST] [*] Being sent on a wild goose chase. [*] Pity Me parties. [*] People pleasers. [*] Social network sites. [*] Hot weather, but he’ll keep the bitching to a minimum. [*] The Church. He’s a lapsed Catholic, turning ex. [*] Not such a fan of water in his eyes (or swimming or anything like that.) [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b][LIST] [*] Visual deception: He’s smarter than he makes out, yo! [*] He can look a vampire in the eyes (670yrs). [*] Is immune to most peoples taunting. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b][LIST] [*] Has to shift on a full moon, no if's, buts or maybes. [*] His mother and his sisters. There’s not much he wouldn’t do for them. [*] Sometimes needs someone to reign him in. [/LIST][b]Family:[/b][LIST] [*] Seamus Kubiak; father, mid to late sixties. [*] Margaret Kubiak; Mother, mid-sixties. [*] Kathleen “Kathy” Kubiak; Older sister, 42. [*] Brenna Kubiak; Older sister; 37. [*] Avery Kubiak; younger sister; 25. [*] Laura Kubiak; youngest sister; 19. [/LIST][b]History:[/b] [LIST]Originally hailing from Derry, Ireland, the Kubiak family moved further south to coastal town of Kilrush in County Clare to avoid any more of the Troubles that had almost torn their family apart as it was. Just in time too, as within two weeks of settling into their new home on August the tenth, nineteen eighty-one, Margaret went into labour with her third child, Darren Kubiak. As stressful as a time as it had been, the parents where happy to have a new member of their family, but their happiness was nothing compared to their daughters, Kathleen and Brenna. The girls had been dead set on the idea of having another sister, but when they found out that they had a baby brother, they had to re-evaluate their long term plans of tea parties and such. Poor Darren didn’t stand a chance when they were asked to watch over him. Even as a toddler, Darren was smarter than most kids his age. He was up on his feet and walking by just shy of a year old and he was forming almost proper sentences only a few months after that, only resorting to actions when he couldn’t get what he wanted to say out. His mother lapped that up, but his sisters took all the credit. Unfortunately, Seamus was the only person that didn’t seem that interested in anything that was happening; oh he was happy that he finally had a son, he just wanted things to move a little faster so he could teach Darren about the real world and just how disappointing that it was going to be without ending up on the receiving end of an iron skillet from his wife. The saddest thing was, no matter how much Seamus tried to bond with Darren, the father and son never really clicked like they should have done.

A few months after his fifth birthday, young Darren got the shock of his life when Avery Kubiak was brought home from the hospital. Having a little sister was so exciting and scary at the same time, exciting because there was suddenly someone younger than him, scary because his older sisters and parents spent more time fussing around the new baby. Darren was almost jealous of the attention that Avery, to the point that it almost became obvious to everyone present at the home reception, and he would have thrown a tantrum if it hadn’t been for Kathleen taking him aside and telling him that nothing was ever going to change. He took his oldest sister’s words to heart and even though he spent a few days trying to avoid the new addition to the family while he tried to work out just how things weren’t going to change because to him, everything had changed and would never be the same again. It was the hurt and confusion that he couldn’t shake off no matter what the youngster said or did. When asked to help with looking after Avery, he went in the opposite direction as fast as he could. Sometimes however, he couldn’t shake the responsibility and grudgingly did what he had to do before escaping to his room. It wasn’t until Avery was six months old that things happened that tore the family apart for the first time. Seamus returned home drunk from the pub one night and verbally and physically attacked his wife in the kitchen for some reason only known to himself in his drunken haze. Kathleen jumped into the fray to try and break things up before someone was seriously hurt, and Brenna called the police. It wasn’t unfamiliar to the older members of the family, but listening to the chaos below them while Avery cried in her crib, Darren was terrified! Still, being the only person around to help Avery, he did all that he could to help the baby girl settle down. It was Kathy that came up what felt like days later – when it was only a few hours - to find a very tired Darren pulling funny faces and Avery giggling like there was no tomorrow.

Despite everything that his mother tried to do to make sure things ran smoothly, things had changed in the household and it wasn’t because Seamus had been kicked out of the house either. His mother was more distant and withdrawn and his sisters were nearly always tense and less than inclined to deal with their younger siblings unless forced by their mother. It almost went like this for a year, and it wasn’t until Kathleen announced that she was moving out with her boyfriend, that Darren truly snapped. While he had made more and more progress with little Avery, his attitude dramatically changed when he was anywhere else but home, and it wasn’t until the third letter from his school and a home visit from his teacher that Darren was dropped off on his father’s doorstep, back in Derry and left there after his mum had finally called it quits and had enough and – Darren would always remember her exact words – told him that she “needed a break” and thought that it would be best if he went to live with his father for a while. The last time that he’d seen Seamus, he’d been a scared boy with no idea as to what was happening. Now, he couldn’t care less about the older male. He didn’t think of Seamus as his father anymore, he thought of him as a bully that preyed on women. Still, he had nowhere else to go since he’d been left hundreds of miles from his home. Seamus didn’t seem that happy either, but he made do and put Darren in the spare room after warning him from touching anything that didn’t belong to him. Barely eight years old, more or less alone and feeling abandoned; Darren did the only thing that he could do given the circumstances. He did as he was told. In a roundabout way he did want some kind of connection with his father, but at the same time, he couldn’t forget what Seamus had done. Things didn’t get much better in the following days, it was as if Seamus barely knew he existed unless they were in the same room or he was tossing Darren a bag of chips from the local chip shop, and Darren was happy with that.

Even though it had originally been planned for Darren to stay with Seamus for six weeks, when the day rolled by that he was supposed to come home, Darren was sorely let down when Kathleen came and dropped off some more of his stuff. Apparently his mum had been sick and Brenna was left with Avery to look after, but Kathy was staying for a while because she missed her baby brother. It seemed that Darren wasn’t the only one that didn’t trust Seamus after all, and with a second child under his roof, Seamus started to crack under the parental stress. He did try though, under Kathleen’s watchful eye, Seamus did attempt to get to know them again as their father. It became more than apparent that Seamus couldn’t be a father though, after one nasty dispute with Kathleen over something hilariously stupid from most people’s perspective, Seamus turned around and bulldozed right into Darren, throwing the young boy back awkwardly and hard enough that in the fall, the kid broke his arm. Less than a week later, with his arm in a cast and a seriously pissed off Margret waiting for them all in Kilrush, the father and two children returned to the family home. It was good to be home, and even with Seamus under their roof still – for some reason, Margret didn’t run him off like both Darren and Kathleen had hoped - , Darren’s attitude had taken a major turnaround. The sullen and rebellious kid was replaced by someone more laid back and spent more and more time helping his mother and Brenna with things while taking on the responsibilities of making sure that Avery kept her nose clean even though she was only six and half by then. It was over the next few years that Darren cracked down on his schooling, kept an eye on his father in case there was a repeat of the attack against Margret, and grew close to Avery like only a big brother could do. There was only five years difference between them but that didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of sibling things considering their other sisters were way much older than the pair of them.

While things didn’t get out of hand exactly, there were a few bumps along the road but nothing that they couldn’t fix. Except for issues regarding pets. Brenna and Darren both had rabbits given to them one day by a neighbour, and they loved them…until one day they came home from home from the shops to find Seamus cooking stew. They’d actually eaten some of it before their father had told them exactly what it was and where their pets had gone. The idea of having a pet was never mentioned again. With nothing else to occupy his time, Darren watched Kathleen fall in love and attempt to make a family of her own. He watched Brenna in and out of love like it was a fashion craze and the new latest must have. His parents seemed happy enough and even Avery was doing her own thing. A few months after his eleventh birthday, however, the family was introduced to another change, another daughter in fact, baby Laura. It was great having another sibling and even though Darren still wanted a brother, he was more and more determined to look after his kid siblings and throughout the next five years, Darren did everything he could to make sure that the younger girls were fine. Of course, at sixteen years of age, he did want to do his own thing and on occasion, he did turn away from his responsibilities in favour of something else like any other teenager would, and like most teenagers his age, he was only interested in a few things. One particular incident drove him to be more careful in his extracurricular activities, especially when they included the older sisters of friends of his little sisters. It retrospect, the teenagers should’ve locked the bedroom door rather than simply closing it, but they’d been home alone at the time and hadn’t expected anyone to come back home for a few hours. If it hadn’t been for the girly shriek and giggles causing both Darren and his girlfriend to scramble for their clothes, things would’ve been fine. As it was, his girlfriend ran out of the house mortified that her younger sister had seen her in bed with a boy, and Darren - while embarrassed –, after he’d managed to tug on some jeans, was left as the unofficial babysitter for two eleven year old girls with motor-mouths. It could’ve been worse as he could’ve been in bed with one of Avery’s friend’s brothers, but it did make Darren more inclined to take his girlfriends out elsewhere.

Unfortunately for the Kubiaks, things turned south two years later. Seamus, while he had sworn off the booze for years, had a new vice. Darren’s old man had racked up a rather large gambling debt, and after the third time that someone was sent around to collect money, Darren, Brenna and their mother confronted the older male about it. Seamus exploded, claiming that they were all against him and that they were no blood of his; however it was Darren that drew first blood, breaking his father’s nose with a well-aimed punch that shocked everyone into silence. Darren turned around and launched into a triad of his own, recalling how his mother had tried to pick up the pieces countless times when Seamus had screwed up over the years, he brought up how Kathleen had been the one to sit up all night when their mother had been too exhausted to do anything and how Brenna had been left to run the house when times had been really hard and. Darren actually expected his old man to lash out and attack him, in fact he went as far as to bait the older male into it, but was surprised when Seamus just grabbed his coat and walked out. Things only got worse from there on in. More and more people came to collect money on behalf of his father, and even though the elder Kubiak’s did their best, there was not much they could do. They had no idea where Seamus had run off to after he’d walked out on them, and while some debt collectors were good enough to drop it and leave them be, there were a handful of nasty ones that thought barging into the Kubiak’s home while they were out and poking about for anything valuable was a good idea, simply because they thought that the family was covering for the older male. As hard as Darren tried to protect Avery and Laura from things like this, he knew that his younger sisters weren’t stupid and knew that something bad was happening. However, Kathleen was the one that came up with a solution. The eldest Kubiak daughter sold her house and moved back in with them, and unlike Darren who resorted to running his mouth off to get the debt collectors to leave for a bit, Kathleen was the ballsy one. The first time she saw someone in their home that shouldn’t have been there and looking for money, she grabbed them by the balls and forcibly dragged them out of the house before throwing down money and telling them to piss off.

Darren was working two part time jobs by the time he was twenty years old so he could help stop people harassing his family. If he wasn’t working, there was just enough time to grab something to eat and a nap, and his sisters had come home time and time again to find his sorry excuse of a hide crashed out on the sofa because he’d been too tired to make the stairs up to his room. One night after his shift at the cinema he was working at, things took a massive U-turn that none of them saw coming ever. Darren had been stuck after his shift, as a nasty storm had caused the busses to clock off early, and after calling Kathy for help since she was the only one that had a working car, Darren listened to one of her typical rants about men in their family being useless. He knew that it wasn’t aimed at him and more directed at Seamus, and after a nudge in the right direction he found out exactly why his sister was pissed off. He found out that while he’d been at work, someone had come to the house threatening to burn the house down unless they gave up Seamus’s location. If that hadn’t been enough for Darren to snap over, he also found out that the guy that had come around asking for money had hit their mother and almost turned on their younger sisters before Kathy had showed up with Brenna.

If they hadn’t been arguing over what to do, and if Kathy had been paying more attention to the road and weather, they probably would’ve made it home in once piece. Unfortunately, neither of them made it there. A bolt of lightning cracked a tree in half, and as Kathy swerved to avoid the collapsing and smouldering piece that came away from the tree, she lost control of the car. Darren only caught flashes of the accident at the time, he knew that it had broken a barricade alongside the road and not only rolled once but twice. Then Kathy was gone. Then there was almighty gut wrenching pain as the vehicle came to a juddering stop, caught in a corpse of trees, and then there was nothing at all as Darren lost consciousness. As it stood, Kathy had been thrown free of the car and came away with a broken leg, it was nothing short of miraculous, Darren on the other hand, had the most serious of injuries. If it hadn’t been for Kathy screaming at the fire brigade as they turned up to help, Darren probably would’ve died in the crushed cab of the car. Death probably would have been the better option. As unbeknown to Darren and everyone else for that matter, when he’d been admitted into hospital, one of the doctors on call that evening took it upon himself to take charge of the Kubiak boy’s care. Remus O’Louglin was a lycanthrope – of the polar bear variety - , and an outstanding doctor to boot, with only three patient fatalities on his record. However, the lycanthrope doctor had a secret; he was using his own blood and infecting the worst case patients that passed through his hands in hopes that its healing power could help them. He didn’t infect Darren immediately as he wanted to attempt a more mundane method to help Darren recover, but after the second week in hospital and with Darren showing no signs of recovering from the internal injuries or the head wound that he’d sustained, Remus took matters into his own hands and bled for the cause.

Three days later, Darren was awake and mostly coherent much to everyone’s surprise, his own included. The following two weeks was an odd time for Darren. He didn’t feel right in himself, and rather than tell anyone, he kept it to himself thinking that it was just exhaustion and his body needing a break from things to recover. It was, as if he was cramped in his own body and as time progressed, Darren felt sicker and sicker with himself, and that’s when his doctor told him that that he was going to be transferred out of there and sent to somewhere that could help him better. “No”. It was in his vocabulary and after attempting to get his feet under him; Darren discharged himself against medical advice and left without looking back, he’d had enough of being poked and prodded and treated like an invalid! The way he saw it was if he could walk and say his own name then things were fine and he’d be ok in a few days. Darren didn’t see Remus’s chipper little smile as the doctor walked away, pocketing blood test results that mentioned that Darren had contracted lycanthropy. Darren got about half way home when he collapsed in horrendous pain that put anything else to shame. However, it wasn’t from his wounds from the crash that caused it. It was the fact that the full moon had risen in the sky, tearing his newly acquired bear out of hiding. Already weak, he didn’t put up much of a fight as the first transformation hit him like a tonne of bricks. He woke up half a day later in the middle of the woods, buck naked with no idea how he got there or where there even was. He wasn’t exactly terrified – he’d had some seriously kinky girlfriends in his time that took a ‘roll in the hay’ a little literal – but he was scared. He felt really good though, stronger even, and it was the only reason that he squished down his fear and took off looking for a house or something where he could borrow a pair of jeans and use a phone. He couldn’t exactly walk buck naked all the way home now could he? After two hours of walking, he stumbled across one of his ex-boyfriends houses on the edge of Kilrush and not embarrassed in the least, he begged for a little help. His ex was more than willing to help and the questions he asked, Darren played it off as a kinky ex that had run off with his clothes while they’d been walking in the woods. It was better than the alternative which was confessing he had no idea what had happened and he couldn’t remember a thing. He didn’t for a moment believe that the other male believed him, but it put a stop to the questions until he got home at least. His ma went nuts when he stomped back into the house, but it was his three sisters that really flew off the handle. Oh it was good to be home once more!

Changes were more noticeable now and he couldn’t deny it. He could hear muttered conversation at the other end of the house, even when he was locked in his room. His other senses were higher as well, and his appetite had taken a turn for the better. Where he couldn’t force himself to finish a plate before his accident, he was asking for seconds like it was nothing. After a few weeks, the girls let things drop and things went back to normal until a new debt collector came to call. It was Darren that answered the door and almost choked on the scent of wet dog that hit him in the face. The other male was just as surprised too and babbled an apology, muttered that he had the wrong house and took off like a bat out of hell. Darren just shrugged it off and went back to doing what he’d been doing, tossing a vague answer when asked who it had been. When it appeared that they were all out of the woods, Kathy and Brenna moved out to start lives of their own – though they remained close enough that they only needed to take a short walk to come back to make sure things at the family house was fine. Darren was more than independent enough that he could’ve moved on as well and he had thought about it for a while prior to the car wreck, but what really synched the deal for him was a visit from an uncle on his father’s side. Apparently Seamus was causing a bit of trouble across in the States and needed help. As much as Darren wanted to tell his uncle to sod off and go bother someone else, but loyalty to his family won out and he was on a plane to Boston within the following days.

He found Seamus in a right mess, holed up in South Boston and it didn’t surprise Darren to know that his old man had been back on the bottle. What did make Darren do a double take was the fact that his father seemed to have found God; it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing but it unnerved Darren enough that rather than turning around and going back home, he actually tried to help the old drunk find his feet again. Until one day he woke up to find his wallet empty and passport gone with Seamus nowhere to be found. With a bad feeling, the werebear phoned home to find out that Seamus had returned and was flashing the cash. Oh he was going to kill the old man when he got his hands on him! Still, he was stuck in Boston until he could organize a way to come home, so he went to his uncle and asked for a job to help him get back on his feet. He managed to wangle a bouncer position in one of the bars and for the most part, just spent his time throwing out trouble makers and making sure that things were running smoothly for folks. It wasn’t until he was cornered coming out of work that the omega bear knew that he’d seriously fucked up because he came face to face with Boston’s Cronus. The male was angry over the fact that an omega hadn’t sought him out for help, and Darren just shrugged it off because by that time he knew exactly what he was. All the meeting did was serve to batter into his head that werebears in groups where really not something he wanted to experience, especially with a king that was a dick.

A couple of months after his twenty first, he met another bear who called himself Keegan, and despite not having been around many werebears before, Darren could appreciate the attention of a fine looking bloke. They struck up a conversation while he was on work, and while there was nothing really going on between them, it was good to have someone to talk to. Darren was still in a bit of a flunk though, he was in a place that was too foreign for him to deal with on top of the fact that he turned into a giant flipping bear once a month, sometimes more if it felt like stretching its legs, and he missed his family to bits. Depression hit him hard and one day, when Keegan dropped by to see him, it was only the other bear talking him out of his funk that got Will up and moving again. What’s more, they began a tentative relationship and he didn’t need to be a brain surgeon to see that Kee was having a bit of trouble with that, it was why Darren never pushed for anything and did his damnedest to make sure he didn’t screw this up for either of them. It was actually the first time since he’d left Ireland and had been trapped in Boston by his father that Darren was truly happy with the way things were going in his life and not just soldiering on without any form of direction. His happiness lasted just a little over a year, before his father came into his life once more and ruined everything.

Seamus said he needed help, and that his legitimate job would go up in flames if he didn’t move some things out of Boston as soon as possible. Darren originally thought that he’d be able to get done with his father in a day and be back before Kee woke up; however his father had other ideas. After Darren agreed to help Seamus on the understanding that the older male would leave and never bother him again, he was told by his father that he was going to be gone for a little while. By that point, he his patience was shot to hell and he left to help his father do what needed to be done. It took Darren five days to work out what his dad was doing, but by then it was too late to tell the thief to take a hike and stuff his ‘job’. If it hadn’t been for the woman that came to reclaim her possessions, Darren probably would have done something violent with the old man; as it was, Seamus became small fry the moment Ms. Nora Devereux walked into the warehouse that the father and son combo had been arguing. The vampire dropped Darren to his knees with a command, and turned on Seamus with the intent to kill the one responsible for putting her to so much trouble. The wiley old fox had another card up his sleeve however, and made like Darren was the one that had stolen from her, that in turn pissed off the vampire even more and gave Seamus the distraction he needed to get the hell out of dodge leaving Darren to a fate worse than death but not before casually mentioning that Avery had drowned. Before Nora could take her pound of flesh, Darren started using the same tricks his father had done, and before the following dawn, he was in the vampire’s lair and in her bed.

It was close to two weeks before he managed to pull himself free of the vampire and Darren had a lot of explaining to do. He’d manipulated a vampire over seven hundred years just so she wouldn’t tear his throat out and drop him in ditch somewhere, and he’d slept with her and bled for her, to boot. That stung, but deep down inside of him, Darren really hurt over what his father had done to him, so he changed things and made a vow that he would never be dragged back into something like that again. A new haircut, a new style, and even a new name weren’t enough though, William Kubiak wanted his man and there was nothing short of the apocalypse that was going to stop him. Within hours, he managed to track down Keegan to a pricey bar but fate was obviously against someone as two bears tried to stop him from entering. William dropped one guard easily enough, but the second one was a little trickier but ultimately went down hard. He’d caused enough of a scene to disturb the Rhea that wanted to get close and personal with Keegan and after tossing his boyfriend – could he even call Keegan his boyfriend after pulling that vanishing act? – a cheeky wink, William turned on the woman and told her to get the hell off his man and take a hike, before promptly dragging the other bear out before the police arrived. The talk that followed was hard to deal with, but William explained that he hadn’t had a chance to leave Keegan a note and that he was deeply sorry for leaving the way he did. He left out the bit about his little sojourn into Nora’s lair and what he’d had to do to come back, and he knew Kee would’ve started poking at him if it hadn’t been for the fact that William mentioned that he was turning over a new leaf and taking a fresh start. Kee accepted that and it was almost as if things were back to normal.

A few years later, things became extremely strained between him and Kee and it seemed like things were through between them. Both of them went their separate ways, Keegan to God knows where, and William back to Ireland to visit the family. Twenty four years old and he was back on the track with no real direction. Of course, he kept up the pretence of happiness around his sisters, and if he even smelt his father, he went the other way before he could do something. The trip home lasted about four months before he went back to Boston to see if he could make a go of it. He had even started planning on relocating elsewhere, but never settled on anything for definite. He just soldiered on to the best of his ability and put more time in effort in learning to control his inner beast. It was a month later that Keegan returned, and suspicious at first, William almost told the other male to take a hike but something stopped him. He allowed Kee back in and their reunion was great, and for the following four years, despite the fact that they had their arguments and small fights – and the occasional break up -, both of them kept coming back to one another. He never went with anyone else in a romantic sense, but William strayed as far as he could from Keegan if only to get his head on straight again. It worked better than saying or doing something that damaged what they had and no one ever complained. Things got real when he heard from Kathleen that Seamus was drinking and still gambling four years later, and he did the only thing that he could at the time. He started sending money back home, to his mother for the younger girls, to Kathleen in case someone came looking for money and no one had any, and he even set up an account for Avery and Laura and put aside some money every now and then because in his mind it made up (mostly) for being a sucky big brother and a son. It was Keegan that managed to swing them a new career choice, at Aaru Transport for Cara DeBesadre. Over the space of the next year, William watched something happen between his boyfriend and his boss, and rather than being upset about it, he just shrugged it off and got on with his own things, never once mentioning the odd vibes he was getting. He craved the reassurance that Keegan gave him though when the other male took him aside. Yes, it stung a little bit and for a while he was jealous, but he worked on his issues in his own time. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that the three of them – more commonly labelled as ‘Dysfunction’ – relocated to Jackford to start another branch of Aaru Transport and it seems like they’re staying. [/LIST][/SIZE]

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buckybabybaby · 5 years

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Mr Hollywood (Chapter 8)

Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he's always wanted, and if it wasn't for you, his best friend, he wouldn't have been able to take it.

But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it's tested by the pressures of Hollywood?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 1599

Chapter summary: Easter holidays and ignoring Bucky's show; all anyone can talk about.

Warnings: a little bit of angst :( no actually Bucky, but soon!

Previous: Chapter 7

Mr Hollywood Masterlist | Main Masterlist

*****

Waking up early on Monday, you take a few moments to just lay there, enjoying the quiet. You know today will be difficult, no matter how many promises of letting go and moving on you've made to yourself. Five more minutes avoiding the inevitable won't hurt.

Peggy had insisted you stayed until late afternoon yesterday, not wanting you to be alone too soon, but you couldn't intrude on her for too long. The short walk back to your house felt like a marathon as you past right by the house Bucky used to rent a flat in, and you couldn't stop yourself from glancing through the hedge and into the window that used to be his lounge. The 'for let' sign was up again, another neighbour moving on some place new, and you'd quickly slipped on your sunglasses, not wanting any pupils to see their teacher crying in the street. Reaching home, you were surprised to find your abandoned shopping placed neatly inside your porch. Looking a little scuffed and bashed, but nonetheless edible, you'd brought it inside as you wondered who you had to thank.

Dayton had called you yesterday evening, under the guise of just checking in, but you had a feeling it was more than that, and it didn't take long to get it out of him. Bucky had turned up at his place on Saturday night, after you'd seen him, and when Dayton had taken the opportunity to ask about what was happening between the two of you he'd taken off again.

“Didn't give me a chance to go after him. Straight back in his taxi and puff, gone.”

“Where's he now then?” You'd asked, worried despite everything. You can't just switch your feelings off overnight.

“On his way back to America, according to one of his cast mates. Buck's not answering my calls.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Not your fault, sweetheart.”

“What if it is!” You'd exclaimed. “What if I've caused a wedge between you and him? Just because he hates me shouldn't mean he-”

Dayton interrupted, bewildered. “Whoa, what? Hates you? What's going on?”

Trying to summarise Saturdays events, the tears made an appearance again. He was just as astounded and angry as Peggy was, sure you must have heard Bucky wrong, but you know what he said.

You don't think you'll ever forget it.

“Don't you worry about it, I'll find out what's going on.” Dayton had hung up with a promise.

Pulled back from your reminiscing by your alarm, you sigh and slide out of bed, hoping to get this day over as quickly and painlessly as possible.

*****

Easter is late this year, a blessing as it means you only have to make it through a short week before the school breaks for a fortnight. Even three and a half days feel like forever, especially as the upset caused by seeing Bucky again, and everything that came with it, has you running on hardly any sleep.

His television show has clearly wrapped, the promotion in full swing, and all the children at school can talk about is the trailer. You haven't been able to bring yourself to watch it yet, which is why it comes as such a shock during lunch break on Tuesday when a double decker bus rolls past the front gates, his image plastered on the side, two times larger than life. You vaguely recognise the actor he's standing beside, but you're too dazed to think straight.

Noticing your frozen figure staring after the bus, Peggy comes across to stand with you, a comforting hand on your arm as you turn to her open mouthed.

“Are you okay Y/N?”

You spin back to the playground where all the children who also saw the advert are straining to see it again. “Have you watched the trailer?”

“Do you want me to say no?”

“I want you to be honest.”

“Then yes. It actually looks quite good.”

“Of course it does,” You mutter bitterly.

“Sam Wilson is always great.”

You nod in agreement. No wonder Bucky had been so excited to get this role, there weren't many actors he placed higher than Sam Wilson, and getting to work with him was probably a dream come true.

It's just a shame that dream didn't involve you.

*****

By the time Thursday afternoon arrives you feel like you need the two weeks off just to sleep. A few pencils were snapped when you suddenly remembered Bucky's words to you but other than that, you managed to get through to the end of term with no major break downs.

The holiday comes at a good time weather wise too, and you bask in the sun with the chickens for most of the first weekend. You're happy the hens got to enjoy a few full days of freedom in the garden, as when you open their coop the next morning, little Dot isn't moving.

It is obvious she's gone.

Moving her away from the others as you find the spade to dig her a final resting place, you wipe your eyes on your sleeve. She was always Bucky's favourite, smaller than the others and picked on more because of it, he made sure she never missed out on treats.

Replacing the earth after you bury her in a shady spot under the willow, you find a tall, pretty daisy to plant in loose soil over her, before slumping down on to the bench nearby, exhausted both physically and mentally. Most people laughed when you said you had such pets, not understanding how a farm animal could be as interesting and rewarding as a more conventional companion, but then they met them and understood your love. It's always hard when you lose one, harder still when the person you long to speak to about it has made it clear he doesn't want you in his life any more.

When Sophia comes to stay during the second week she brings Benjamin, and flowers in sympathy for your loss. She gets it. Helping her unpack her weekend bag, you listen to her chatter away about her plans for the nursery, and how they're trying to squeeze one last holiday in before they become a family of four.

Dayton's on a trip back home, very last minute, and he'd asked you if you minded keeping Sophia company for the couple of days he's away. He didn't say why he's going back to the USA but you have an idea, it would be too much of a coincidence so soon after Bucky disappeared from his driveway after your confrontation. Regardless of your own feelings that it would be pointless to try and talk him round, you wish him luck in his quest.

She knows about the current situation surrounding you and Bucky, but ever the optimist, she's convinced that it's nothing more than a silly argument that will be resolved in a few weeks. You don't have the heart to tell her otherwise. Instead, you busy yourself with keeping Sophia and Benjamin fed, watered and entertained, playing the perfect host to hide your pain.

*****

School holidays used to drag on forever when you were a child, however now you work there it feels like you blink and it's over. You're not too disappointed to be back, however, as the summer term is the most enjoyable in your experience, the lighter evenings meaning you don't feel so confined in your home after you finish for the day, and the children seem more happy and carefree in the warmer weather.

There were also more dates in the calender this time of year, it'll be sports day again before long, but first, the May Day celebrations. You hadn't been involved in the organisation of this years fête, and as you stare at the poster and the announcement of the 'extra special star guest', you really wish you had. Ripping the flyer off the wall, you march to Peggy's office, not bothering to knock before you burst in so it's lucky she's alone.

“What the hell is this?”

“I could ask you the same, Y/N.” She stands from her desk, moving to close the door behind you. “You can't just charge in here unannounced. We've got to at least pretend to be professional.”

She's joking but you're not laughing, shoving the offending piece of paper into her hands, causing her smile to slip.

“Ah.”

“Ah, indeed. Why the hell didn't you tell me he was coming?” You pace as you rant. “Why the hell is he coming? What has he got to do with anything! And you must have some sort of input in this, why did you let it happen?”

“I'm sorry Y/N. What was I meant to do?”

“Stop it!”

“Without airing yours and his private lives, there's nothing I could’ve done!”

She's right. Huffing in frustration, you hold your tongue. You can't afford to lose two friends in less than half a year, and you know Peggy hasn't done this on purpose, now you think about it rationally Bucky being there would bring a lot of attention to the schools humble spring fête. You can no longer go on any website, or watch TV, without seeing his face. Whatever the show is about you're not sure, as you still haven't got the strength to watch any of the dozens of videos hanging around, but it's clear it's going to be the next big sensation. That Bucky is going to be the next big sensation.

You guess you're going to have to suck it up and ignore your heartache, just for one day.

*****

A/n: lot's of Bucky in the next chapter, I promise! And maybe an explanation or two...

As always, thank you for reading!! Feedback is very welcome if you would like :D

Chapter 9

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #buckybabybaby #Mr Hollywood #bucky x reader

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bristlybranwen · 4 years

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BIO

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Branwen Yaxley

AGE: 30

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis female. She/Her. Hard rock gold star lesbian with a(n unpopped) cherry on top.

Her sexuality was always something she was very straight-forward about. She was probably introduced to the term ‚homosexual‘ as a slur at first, and immediately decided to defend it, not even knowing what it actually meant. By the time she found out, she had spoken up about it too loudly to retrieve her opinion quietly. And because it seemed so magnificently radical to call herself a Lesbian and be attacked by homophobes first hand (which gave her a reason to do what she does best: fighting) that it became an identity she wore on her sleeves from a young age on.

I like to imagine that the pureblood side of the Wizarding World was – even in the 60s and 70s – less open about such topics than the Muggle World. The pureblood mentality is all about passing on ‘pure‘ genes, isn‘t it? Which could mean that they see homosexuality as something standing in the way of such goals. Nevertheless, I don‘t think Branwen would‘ve been quiet about her identity. For one, because it told the sweet, quiet and closeted pureblood girls that they were very welcome to approach her in the shadows of certain corridors at Hogwarts, and for two, because most pureblood families raised their daughters to be perfect future wives. And this train had long left the station for Branwen. Her parents – who still think this is just a phase and will pass eventually – always knew Branwen would choose a husband fit for her rough and brawny attitude herself. So as long as they think this will still happen, they mostly refuse to talk about it with her. After all, the Yaxley name will live on whether Branwen has children or not: through honourable, righteous Corban. The one everyone is so goddamn proud of…

So, yes, Branwen has made her experiences, with emotions as well as short-lasting relationships, but only ever with other pureblood girls. After all, even if an accidental child won‘t be a situation, the mingling of bloods is just ‘wrong and disgusting’.

(note: I just want you to know that personally I dislike the term ‘gold star lesbian’ as it‘s usually used to invalidate gay people‘s identity based on their past relationships, and the same goes for ‘popping a cherry‘, for obvious reasons. But when I thought about how Branwen herself would answer this question, this was the exact phrase that came to my mind. The nuances of terms don’t matter to her at all as she doesn’t care at all about offending people.)

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor

ANY CHANGES: I‘d love to change the FC to Sonequa Martin-Green. While Mackenzie looks very cool and has strong brawl vibes, I think Sonequa fits those vibes very well too.

She’s unashamed of who she is but, because of siding with the Order, does have to restrain certain parts of herself. I’d like to express this with some hair symbolism: whenever she’s being herself, unrestricted from either side, she wears her hair natural and open. Willing to fight anyone who might want to say something negative about her appearance. But then, for example when she joins the Order in a battle (or in smaller situations in which she has to act in a way that is unlike her), she prepares by braiding her hair. For this symbolism, I think black hair works best. It holds the most meaning, considering our society‘s prejudices against it, and that‘s why I‘d prefer Sonequa over Mackenzie!

Also, giving her a non-white FC is a nice way to visualise her name, which means ‘beautiful raven‘.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

There are three things one needs to know about Branwen:

She knows exactly who she is. She acts before she thinks. She is unapologetic and relentless in what she wants and does.

I looked up the etymology of the name ‘Branwen‘ but accidentally typed ‚Bram‘, which apparently is the old English word for ‘broom‘. Even though the name Branwen has a different origin, I had a good giggle and it gave me a good idea to explain her personality. On the one hand, Branwen is extremely skilled on the broom, most likely having played on the Gryffindor Quidditch team during her years at Hogwarts (as a Beater, naturally). On the other hand there is this a German adjective, borstig, which means to be like the bristles of a broom/brush. More than any other, I believe that this adjective describes Branwen perfectly.

She is like the rough bristles of a broom, sweeping over whatever surface she deems messy, tearing everything away from their peaceful state on the floor, allowing no failures on her side. Crash your hand directly into the bristles and you might even draw blood from the wounds, but run your fingers over them carefully, putting up no counter-pressure, the bristles will tickle you at most. Perhaps even feel like a gentle caress.

When crashing your hand into the bristles:

It’s important to understand, that she doesn‘t prick for the sake of pricking. Nor is fighting for moral reasons. She‘s not a Nora Lynch type of a personality, despite their similar willingness to quarrel.

There‘s a saying which goes, your bubble of freedom ends where the bubble of freedom of another person starts. Branwen‘s bubble is larger than most people‘s. To be comfortable she needs to be able to swing her arms and be able to express herself loudly. She takes up a lot of space, not minding to take up other people‘s space but minding very much when other people take up hers. Whether it be opinions, physical space or emotions, she knows exactly who she is, anyone opposing her beliefs is – in her opinion – someone who tries to minimise her bubble of freedom. So when she pricks, it‘s not because quarreling with people is a way to alleviate boredom, but because she deems it necessary to gain her freedom back.

When gently touching the bristles:

In return this means that Branwen is – as long as one lets her be who she wishes to be – quite the enjoyable character. Because she‘s the opposite of whatever ‘social anxiety‘ is, she‘s easy to be around. There‘s no awkward silence, no struggle to understand what she wants, no hesitation when it comes to making plans. She leads the conversation, and because there‘s no topic too private for her, she can and will lead those conversations easily to blush-worthy places.

She‘s always up for drinks and jokes, adores hearty jokes, never says no to adventures, and while she doesn‘t really care about ‘deep‘ topics or philosophising around, she does care about the problems of those she considers friends. The aforementioned caress, is a genuine one. It’s not particularly deep, has no healing effects, but it can soothe a momentary itch. She will lend you an ear and give you concrete advice, usually even offer to deal with the problem in question herself.

This being said, there is one scenario where she restricts herself and turns a little stiff, and that is when she speaks to Muggleborns or half-breeds.

Around all Order members she wears a mask of civility, which holds in her prejudices much like braids keep her hair tied back, making sure her fight for personal freedom never turns political. But around Muggleborns and half-breeds she’s too aware of how different she is from them.

Perhaps it’s something akin to disgust, but perhaps it’s also the fear that if she gets started on fighting for her freedom around them, she might go too far and unmask herself completely. She‘ll warily stalk around small-talk and listen more than she speaks, which is unusual for her. No leading of conversations, instead she allows herself to be led – but put a pin in this, we‘ll come back to it later. For now it‘s important to know that Branwen is not at all the same person around people she likes, and people she is convinced don‘t deserve her respect. People who thinks might one day take away her freedom on a political basis.

All in all, Branwen has the kind of personality that allows for fun threads. The war doesn‘t affect her the way it affects most Order members (again, put a pin in that) and so not all her conversations turn around its effects. There‘s no heaviness to her, no sorrowful pondering or air of hopelessness. After all, what has she got to lose? This being said, stir the conversation towards something she has an (utterable) opinion on, and you‘re in for a ride. (As long as you‘re not a Muggleborn, as previously mentioned.) She knows no shame, never thinks back about where fights went wrong, always runs head-first into what many people would consider ‘taboo topics‘. And even when fists and curses come and go flying, she will never think herself in the wrong. After all, she‘s not the one who started. It was her freedom bubble which was being stepped on! She only defended herself!

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF THE FAMILY:

To understand Branwen, it‘s vital to understand her family, her paternal side, the famous Yaxleys, as well as her maternal side.

Part of the sacred 28, an – in Branwen‘s opinion – honourable circle of British purebloods, the Yaxleys are Scottish and have their seat in a grand castle in the highlands, not too far away from Hogwarts. Most of the sons who carried down the name were in Slytherin, however it is not uncommon for the daughters of this family to land in Gryffindor, showing that the Yaxley‘s priority has always been honour and pride.

Lachlan Yaxley, Branwen‘s father, is your typical Slytherin. He‘s two-tongued and cunning, ceaselessly putting the appearance of what he does over its actual content. What he wants, he‘ll fight for with all his might, but contrary to his wife, he fights for it in the shadows, silently, in a way that leaves no traces of the sharp, unforgiving violence he exerts.

Bethan Yaxley, born Burke, Branwen‘s mother, went to Gryffindor. Although from another generation and an even stricter familial background, she always showed signs of rebellion, of a will to fight. Raised to be the perfect bride one day, always taught to be lady-like, beautiful and adorable, her ways to get what she wanted were never concealed or performed in secret. Stand in between what she wants and herself, and your life might literally be in danger. She‘s no less violent than her husband, but while his violence shows itself in emotional abuse, always making sure he‘ll be able to call himself innocent afterwards, she‘s unapologetic about her ways.

In fact, while she had been engaged to marry into the Yaxleys from a young age on, she decided herself that she wanted the older, instead of the younger brother. Her ways to get him were never concealed or performed behind closed doors, on the contrary, the whole Wizarding World watched as she made her family even more noble, even more rich, by catching Lachlan and putting him into her pocket. Did Lachlan disagree with what she wanted (his money, his nobility), no one ever learnt about it, though. He must’ve not been too disapproving of Bethan’s determination though, or else he would‘ve had his own, quiet ways to stop her. After all, make no mistake, just because he seems more subdued compared to her, it doesn‘t mean he‘s less powerful in their relationship.

Growing up as the daughter of two people, who, on the one hand, encouraged Branwen‘s large freedom bubble, always teaching her to take what she wanted, never make excuses, and on the other hand, had their own very large freedom bubble, which was so easy to overstep, was anything but easy.

The abuse – as modern Muggle psychologists would call it but which Branwen‘s would never see as such – strengthened her. From a young age on she had to fight for every inch of freedom she wanted to claim for herself, be it something small like which books she enjoyed reading (”Really?“ her father would always ask in a skeptical, hostile way. “That‘s something you enjoy?“) or who she knew she truly was (the day she came out to her parents, her mother wiped a spell over her, leading to a permanent scar across her shoulder which she carries to this day).

Psychologists would also be able to detect the ways it weakened her. Her fear of actually letting people come close, scared they might judge, scared she might never get the freedom back, for example. Her inability to be soft and gentle. Or her constant need to be right, as though allowing another opinion to co-exist with hers, would negate who she is as a whole person. Or her actual physical flinching at the idea of befriending a Muggleborn.

But Branwen would never admit to that, perhaps hasn‘t even figured it out herself yet. She firmly believes it made her strong, and perhaps it did. The ability to unapologetically demand what she wants, what she believes she deserves, it is a type of strength. To get through battles and duels with a grin on her face, because what is there more familiar and home-feeling than fighting with others? To never step down from a childhood feud that started for a reason no one quite remembers, simply because she can. To never hurt when yet another girlfriend ditches her, after all, she wasn‘t raised to share but to be self-sufficient, raised to never need people‘s friendly words and gentle touches…

To her, her surname means power. It means protection and honour, and she carries her head high because of it. Being way more outspoken about it back when she was at Hogwarts, she has however stopped mentioning who she is all the time now. Perhaps because the Order wouldn‘t see this as something positive. Perhaps because slowly she has stopped seeing it as something quite as positive either. Before, she was quite indifferent about the prejudices the Sacred 28 fostered, not really caring about the ‘deadborn‘ and enslaved Squibs, and definitely not bothering to question what there was to hate about Muggleborns. Nowadays, she still doesn‘t really care about any of that, but she understands that her noble name comes with those opinions.

However, she’ll never renounce this name. She won‘t let her parents disinherit her, she won‘t let herself be burnt off the family tree, she won‘t do anything that‘ll risk her nobility. Even if that means that one day, she will have to let her bubble of freedom burst and submit herself to her mother’s control… But it’s worth it, right? To give up ‘Branwen’ to be a proper ‘Yaxley’? After all, this name means strength. And she is strong because of it. If she were to lose her name, her family, what would be left of her? And, who knows, even though she’s determined to win this war to stick it to her damn cousin, what if they lose? At least she’ll have a proud title to go back to.

OCCUPATION: Blacksmith and vendor at Potage‘s Cauldron Shop, the Knockturn Alley branch.

After some splendid suggestions from the group, I have come up with a little idea: Wizards can conjure material goods but only for a limited period of time. It is therefore only logical that they need to buy the objects they expect to last for a whole year or longer, such as cauldrons. And therefore it is just as logical that those objects need to be manually crafted.

If some cauldrons are more expensive than others then it’s because they are more sustainable, and this is achieved by the kind of metals used, but also by the magic woven into them as they are crafted over a real flame (considering that elemental magic is the oldest and purest form, therefore also the strongest form of magic).

Branwen is clearly not in need for a job. Even if her parents disapprove of her choices, they still believe she‘ll come back around to marrying and giving the Yaxley genes to a child one day. (The name and heritage will follow Corban’s bloodline, anyway). They support her with a huge monthly allowance that make working obsolete. So why is she doing it anyway?

Well, the truth is, she started to work at Potage‘s Cauldron Shop because the branch in Knockturn Alley allowed her to overhear the telling chit chat between family members. Sellspeople are so easily overseen by the rich… It was one of the plans she had with which she talked her way into the Order. Told them that she had a great job where she could innocently inquire about this and that and learn about what was going on with the Dark Lord‘s supporters via their wives and babbling children. And because the shop is close to Borgin and Burkes, where a paternal great-uncle of her works, it not only put her parents at ease knowing he‘d look over Branwen, but also allowed her to be alone often, it was a winning argument.

What she tells her parents and everyone of the noble Pureblood Society, however, is: „I‘m doing this for fun.“ And it might‘ve been a lie once, but is it still?

Certainly, working as a friendly sellperson is mostly out of character for poor Branwen, who struggles with just letting the hostile comments of clients wash over her, but damn is she good at finding exactly the right cauldron the person is looking for. She‘s not someone who gives up or half-arses her job. If she is asked to help someone, find the exact right cauldron for a very specific potion, then she will not rest until that very cauldron has gone over the counter.

One day however she couldn’t find such a cauldron. So she went down into the cellar where the cauldrons are being made and it was the start unexpected: she began forging cauldrons herself. Manually. In the roaring fire, she‘ll stand for hours and hours, one hand holding the potion-soaked hammer, in the other the metal, as her mental strength turns into physical strength. She doesn‘t stop when the soot covers her face, doesn‘t stop when her clothes drench from the sweat, doesn‘t stop when her muscles begin shaking under the hard work. Seemingly inexhaustible she forges, refusing to think about how this work comes from a time when Muggles and Wizards still shared lives.

No one knows that she is more than a vendor, other than the other blacksmith, and she needs this to stay that way. She is proud of every single one of the cauldrons she makes, knowing they are perfect, but she is not proud of the manual labor. Yes, there is magic involved, but still. She is a Yaxley! And this is lower class labor at best… But there is something about holding the heavy hammer, about feeling the fire burn in her lungs that keep drawing her back down into the cellar, and she can‘t explain what it is. In a way she doesn‘t want to think about it, because what if she began to admire Muggles for their manual labor too? Began to envy them to live in a world without magic…

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

I think the bio does a beautiful job at explaining how Branwen feels around the Order.

On the one hand she just couldn‘t care less about the cause. She doesn’t care about morals or politics as long as the hierarchy of society stays in a way that she can keep her power, money and title. Most Death Eaters, she assumes are good, upright citizens, family and friends, who are just concerned about the Wizarding World. Not everyone who‘s on the Dark Lord‘s side immediately wants all Muggleborns dead, right? Most of them just want them apart so they can‘t mingle with the purity of their beautiful magical world, and isn‘t that very sensible? Surely most Muggleborns must agree, too!

On the other hand she has begun caring for the Order members. I love this part a lot so I don‘t want her to be too far into this caring yet but want to develop it as I play her. I don‘t want her to be too enamored with everyone just yet, but enough that she‘d consider some of them almost friends. When they talk to her about their private problems, she finds herself caring, and while she might hold back from seeking out their friendship, it‘s definitely begun forming, slowly, quietly, within her. No matter how much she pretends it hasn‘t, she can very much feel it. This feeling of fondness. Of admiration. Adoration, at times, even.

She values strength, doesn‘t she? She loves fighting and honours those who fight bravely as well. So this means two things:

One, her purpose in the Order is exactly that. She‘s not someone who will spy in other camps, or sit at home watching over a map like Edgar. She‘s someone who wants to be out on the field, her wand in her hand, curses on her tongue. And because she lacks moral values – the Death Eater values as much as the Order values – she has no trouble fighting with all her heart. She just wants to win, what for, it doesn‘t really matter. She just doesn‘t want to lose and so she fights without hesitation, and the other Order members will know that. That‘s perhaps why she‘s made it to Mid-Level at this point: because she has proven herself to be trustworthy on the battlefield. No hesitation, no laziness. When she fights, she fights. She‘s in it, with her heart, head and muscles.

Two, she has seen other Order members fight like that as well. When she initially joined she didn‘t know what she got herself into, perhaps even thought that they‘d need her to win this war. After all, they were just some silly rebels who just happened to oppose her cousin‘s side, she didn‘t really have faith in them. That‘s why she joined. To prove her cousin wrong. But then the months went by, years, eventually, and Branwen had to learn a harsh lesson: those people weren‘t joking around. They weren‘t wimps. They weren‘t pitiful. They were everything she had ever wanted to be, and at times even more.

Usually, when she argues with someone, duels them, she has no emotions or opinions about it afterwards. It‘s never really personal. During her time with the Order, she quarreled a lot (mostly with non-Muggleborns as explained above), however it never left her quite as cold as fighting did when she was young. She began rethinking what people told her in those arguments.

And instead of despising her for being so head-strong, she began admiring them for it. Especially because they didn‘t fight like her father did, with jabs and a smirk, solely to leave you emotionally wounded. They didn‘t do it like her mother did it, with physical violence, rather wanting to lame you than to allow you to take up space. No, what they did, how they defended themselves, is by simply … standing their ground. By reminding her of other people‘s freedom she endangers. By taking her by the hand and guiding her to show her that them (the people who they‘re trying to defend) being free, doesn‘t necessarily mean she won‘t have any left for herself. That true freedom means freedom for everyone.

She‘d rather cut out her tongue than speak about this to anyone, but it‘s there. This knowledge. She knows it has happened. She knows how she feels. And she fears how it‘ll make her decide one day…

SURVIVAL:

Being a pureblood with a well-known family, she doesn‘t struggle much in this war. As long as she gets her few hours at Potage‘s in, no one wonders what she‘s doing during the rest of the time. She officially lives with her aunt in a city house in Wizarding London, but she mostly comes by to take a shower and change her clothes. Most of the times she‘s out at night, enjoying life, not worrying too much about all this war-trouble, and convincing people to let her stay in their bed. Yes, bed. Do you think a Yaxley would settle for the couch?

In recent times, she‘s begun sleeping over at other Order members’ places more and more often. Perhaps because they don‘t ask questions like “so what are you going to do with your life now”? Perhaps because … no. Branwen refuses to see them all as friends. Some perhaps. Close acquaintances who she happens to trust with her life. But friends? Never.

And yet, when she speaks words of comfort, holding them shielded from dark incidents, promising to be there for them, she can‘t help but wonder how much of her freedom she‘s already given up for their love.

It conflicts her greatly. You wouldn‘t see it in the way she interacts with people, but it almost scares her, all this. The idea that they might lose this war. Because it would make her cousin all too happy, yes, but also because, well, what would happen to them? Trial? Azkaban? Death?

She condemns no one from her family to be on her opposing side and yet is quite glad they don‘t know on which side she‘s on. Perhaps because she knows that one day she‘ll see her parents‘ shoes under the Death Eater‘s robes and will have less than a second to figure out on whose side she‘s truly on.

RELATIONSHIPS:

It is safe to say that Branwen never really had friends.

At Hogwarts she was the kind of person to throw those (in)famous Gryffindor parties; aword from her and everyone would come. She knew everyone, and everyone knew her. A party thrown by her meant a good time. And people usually liked being around her. This went on even after Hogwarts, in Wizarding London. And yes, she‘s the type of person to call people she met a few times ‘friends‘, to treat them like buddies, touching them and talking to them as though she knew them for years. But real friends? People she trusted with her emotions? With her pain? With her fears? Those were incredibly rare. Countable on one hand.

One of those people is Alice Longbottom, as she proved herself from a young age on the type of person Branwen respects. I‘d need to plot with the player, of course, but I like to imagine that they got into a terrible fight-at-first-sight, and Alice won in such a glorious way, that Branwen couldn‘t help but feel that through her bruised ego, she was mostly just proud of Alice for having such a big dick energy. And because they spent so much time together, eventually, the deeper conversations started to unfold, and she did grow attached.

But this doesn‘t negate what I previously said. She‘s not someone to get all touchy-feely with, and so many people would never place her high on their friendship list, even if Branwen does like them a lot. Like, she might feel close to someone, but they‘d never think about inviting her to their intimate wedding “for family and just a few closest friends”.

So the war didn‘t change much. That she can‘t talk to her purebloodist friends about what she does outside of partying and working at Potage‘s, or that she can‘t talk to the Order members about how little she actually cares about their cause, doesn‘t really affect her relationships. She was never someone to just talk about how she truly felt, anyway.

On the contrary. Because around Muggleborns she‘s forced to shut up and listen, she might‘ve grown to learn how to actually listen to other people for once. Before, when someone talked in a way that bored or upset her, she‘d just say so. Around those she can‘t do this, she is forced to listen to their side of things, to their opinions, their feelings, and as the years with the Order went by, she might‘ve begun actually caring for other people on more than just surface level. She got to know them, and because they are all brave in their own way, she began to like them.

No, she never really had friends.

But at times she wonders if she wouldn‘t like to be friends with those in the Order…

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS:

As literally everyone else, I‘ll obviously say Branwen x chemistry. However, I do think that romantic/sexual relationships with men will be out of the question. Deep, important friendships as explained in the point above? Heck yes! But no romance.

Also, I do like the idea that Branwen might fall for a Muggleborn girl. Not just for the beautiful star-crossed lover trope but also just to explore her bias and morals. I think such a romance could work well for character-development.

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Muggles are inherently dirty. Werewolves (as well as other half-breeds) shouldn‘t even be just kicked out of society, they should be killed. Or at least be castrated. It‘s a shame to even consider them human, and allow them to perform magic. Muggle music is stressful and too loud and chaotic, there‘s no grace to it. The same goes for all their other art. Halfbloods can stay but their magic is weaker. The magic of Muggleborns is weaker as well, in fact, so weak, that Hogwarts shouldn‘t even seek out British Muggleborns but just let them stay in the Muggle world. Squibs should consider themselves lucky that they‘re made servants instead of being completely kicked out of society, as it would be the Wizarding World‘s right to do. It’s for people with magic, after all. A marriage between a Muggle and a Wizard/Witch should be forbidden. Salazar Slytherin was right when he said Hogwarts should stay clean of mudblood, as Muggles are known to be inherently hateful. They have proven themselves incapable of accepting magic and it‘s therefore for their best to keep them unknowing of the Wizarding World. After all, what if the Wizarding World ended up being revealed to the Muggles? Would they come hunting Witches again? Or would the Wizarding World have to force them into submission, into oppression, perhaps making slaves out of them the way they do it with Squibs? It’s just for their best to keep them away, really.

Here a handful of prejudices Branwen‘s fosters. But mind you, she is not only outspoken about them but also doesn‘t have enough … incentive to fight about it. None of this really regards her, she finds. She will fight about everything and anything, but not for moral reasons. As long as her status of a mightier Witch isn‘t doubted, she won‘t fight with people who say Halfbloods‘ magic is valid. However if they say it‘s as strong as hers, she‘ll want to fight to prove them wrong. So if the war would end in favour of the Order, she‘d be like, okay, as long as I get to keep my privileges. Being rich. Getting an education. Having people respect her noble status. Etcetera etcetera.

All those beliefs she holds are beliefs because they were taught to her as facts. Not as opinions. What drives people angry are when opinions are being challenged. “This movie was bad”. She‘d fight people on that. But the same way no one would fight another person about the colour of bananas, she has no reason to fight people about the dirtiness of Muggles. It‘s just a fact. They clean their houses with mops! So that‘s perhaps a reason why she manages to not get into arguments with other Order members. Because she either thinks them uneducated about certain topics – or her silence forces her to listen to what they call facts, quietly challenging what she thought to be the only truth.

#bio #{ the bold adventurer }

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zombie-renji · 5 years

Text

When I was 17

I came out to my family as transgender and bi, I didn't quite get the support that I thought that I'd be getting from my family, but I got something better, I got acceptance from my parents. My siblings were a bit iffy, because I didn't show the classic signs, or they didn't pick them unlike my aunt. My two oldest sisters were crying openly from joy as I came out.

When I was 18

My mother sat me down to talk more in depth about the whole deal, in a way, to both clear things to her and to myself, my older sister and younger brother eaves dropped the whole conversation, because they wanted to learn more, but were too proud to ask.

When I was 19

My father told me that he'd come in terms with the idea, and showed me the research he had been constructing of the whole thing, he also mentioned that one of the legendary heroes, Joan D'Arc was thought to be a trans man.

When I was 20

My brother and I had a lengthy conversation about everything, we just sat down and took time to truly talk. He told me that he believed that my mind was man's but he reminded me that the "solution" currently available may not be the best, he reminded me that on the level of the chromosomes, I'd still have two Xs and while there might be a chance for the third hidden chromosome, it wouldn't change.

He reminded me of the dangers of the transitioning, pleading me to find another way to be happy without risking my health. In his words "What you have, is the maximum level of dysphoria regarding your own body. If you go to a hormone replacement therapy, there's a high chance that the hormones added will only increase your feeling of discomfort. And taken in your medical history... You are at the high risk. So before the decision, learn to love yourself a little more".

It wasn't oppression, it was him trying to figure out a way to help me, he was trying to protect me from what he saw as harmful. He was trying to make sure that I gave a good thought to the decision and understand the dangers of the choice. He wanted to make sure that I'd be okay mentally first.

He showed me how much he'd truly spend time with everything, despite the fact that he hadn't shown any signs of support nor acceptance before, but that's the kind of person he has always been, trying to get to the root of everything first and then make his own opinion.

When I was 21

I came out to my grandmother. She looked at me for the longest time before she smiled, she had guessed that it was something like that, what I'd been painfully hiding from her, fearing that she wouldn't be able to understand.

My father also said that his mother would've been so damn proud to call me her grandson should she have been able to hear my confession to my mother's mom before passing at the humble age of 80.

I am turning 22

I think that I'm starting to get ready to face the consequences, I think that I have grown enough as a person and achieved mental stability to face a psychiatrist and ask for their opinion and thoughts.

Will I do the transition?

Honestly speaking, I am not sure, I was born with a broken set of genes that might make it impossible, and I accept it. What matters really is the fact that I know that I am valid transman with or without the process. It doesn't really matter if someone tells me that I can't be transgendered or not if I don't go through the process, but I must ask them "Are you inside my head? Do you really know what I am in there? Can you see my gender through my clothes?" the answer is no. Gender refers to the mind, what I identify as, it doesn't have anything to do with sex, sex is just what my physical form is.

Also if one were to say that I can't identify as a man because I wear make up, I can always point out the fact that in movies, all of the men wear make up. And transmen often wear makeup in order to enhance their masculine traits like their jawline and cheek bones. But I also have to point out that I am a cosplayer, and knowing how to use make up to bring the character alive is essential in it.

What is the point of this post?

No matter in which situation you are as a transgendered person, you are valid. Your decision to go through the transition or not go does not make you more or less trans. If you identify as the opposite gender than you were assigned at birth, you are valid.

Always.

But also, don't think that everything negative said about transitioning (or anything in general) is oppression, the person could just be worried over your safety, and life as they are aware of the possible side effects and that the current method isn't perfect.

Welcome to my Ted talk, I hope that someone who is reading this is feeling a better and hopeful even slightly

Stay healthy guys, gals and non binaries

Edit: Hey so uhh apparently the term "transgendered" is offensive term and I had no idea of that? I won't change it though since I know that the version that's now going around is the one that has the error and editing the post won't won't change it on every reblog.

But hear me out why I used it.

It's because of the flow of the sentence. Try using the one that's apparently "the only appropriate term" aka transgender and see how much it changes the sentence. It doesn't flow anymore. Which isn't how this language works.

But also, this term was taught to me by my lovely English teacher from Elementary school, whom followed the Oxford way of writing and using the language, and she was old. Very old. Hence I myself use certain old ways of writing the language like redd (former, past tense of the verb read), lit (past tense of light up something, but also something that means bad). She used that word because that's what we were called BEFORE it was turned into an offensive word, and I assure you that she is very acceptive and kind woman, very encouraging too. So before you decide to attack me over the usage of this term, please remind yourself that I didn't know it was offensive and I am using it as a positive term which I was taught and I used it as a conjunction since that sentence needed it to flow better (though APPARENTLY someone decided that the term shouldn't be able to be conjugated in any way, thanks for that). So in this case, it's a conjugation, not an offensive word. Rarely used, yes, but not offensive.

I apologise for not being up to date with the slurs and offensive words of English speaking countries.

#lgbtq community #lgbtq #lgbt #lgbtpride #lgbtqa #lgbti #trans #trans man #trans woman #queer #family #important

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tendercuriiosity · 5 years

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𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME. freya lillian mackenzie. NICKNAME. mac. GENDER. cisfemale. HEIGHT. 5′7″ AGE. verse dependent but normally written between 16 and 24 ZODIAC. scorpio. SPOKEN LANGUAGES. english. after the curse was placed on her freya withdrew on herself and stopped speaking so she started to learn british sign language.

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR STYLE. hair that doesn’t curl even when she tries, the colour tends to range from a mousey brown or sandy brown but it gets lighter in the summer. EYE COLOUR. a bluey-grey. SKIN TONE. despite the fact she tans quite well she rarely does so and is in fact naturally quite pale. BODY TYPE. slim but without toned muscles. DOMINANT HAND. left. POSTURE. raised in an upper-class family and having taken ballet from an early age she has very upright posture. SCARS. she has a couple small scars that aren’t easy to notice and one large one on her torso from the demon she summoned when she was 15. TATTOOS. none. BIRTHMARKS. she has a couple freckles on her back that her grandmother told her were in the shape of a wolf paw. CLOTHING STYLE. her wardrobe is mostly filled with t-shirts, flannel button-downs, hoodies and jeans. she has a leather jacket that used to belong to Rex, she isn’t sure how she feels about keeping it but it’s comfortable to wear and sometimes it makes her feel like she has power over the trauma she went through.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH. salcombe, devon, england. HOMETOWN. salcombe, near the water edge. SIBLINGS. dirk and anton. PARENTS. nicholas mackenzie and claudia mackenzie neé green. PETS. medusa, the knucker dragon.

𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 !

SLEEPING. it is not rare for her to wake from nightmares or not sleep during the night in order to avoid the dreams. during college she lived off coffee and friends often had to swap it for decaf without her realising so she actually slept. EXERCISE. during her later years of college, she got into the habit of running every morning with a couple of her housemates. now working at a school she doesn’t have as much time in the morning but does run on the weekend. EATING. freya is not the best when left to her own devices surviving off easy to make meals that only really need heating or boiling. Plus she has a big sweet tooth that leads to unhealthy snacking SOCIABILITY. she used to be unwilling to talk to most people often retreating in on herself but throughout college, she became more outgoing. ADDICTION. addicted to chewing gum. recovering drug and magic addict. throughout her last three years of college, she attended narcotics anonymous meetings.

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. pansexual . PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. submissive | dominant | switch LIBIDO. extremely variable. TURN ON’S. people who light up when they talk about what their interests, confidence, neck kisses, hands in her hair and light touches to her shoulders or thighs. TURN OFF’S. boring conversationalists, bad hygiene and being rude to others. LOVE LANGUAGE. freya is better at expressing her emotions through acts of service, more often than not if she cares about you she will do whatever you want but she only tends to understand other people’s feelings about her if they use explicit words. RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. due to the isolation, she went through early on in her life she has limited relationship experience, only having her first kiss in her second year of college and not having a long term relationship until over a year later.

𝐛𝐢𝐨 !

In a world where magic is possible, the old traditions are starting to die. The change can’t be traced back to any one person or government but in the present magic is forbidden. Those that are descended from magical creatures or have been born with magic are hunted.

The few humans born with magic either ignore their abilities entirely or only explore their birthright under the cover of night. While creatures of magic live on the fringes of society, buying charms and potions from the black market in order to help them pass for human.

But the black market is a dangerous game, those supplying the products either have very little knowledge or struggle to find the right ingredients so have to settle for poor replacements. And the prices will always run high because even with all the faults it’s the only way to survive in the changing world. However, there are still cities that hold more magic than its citizens or those in charge could ever imagine.

Claudia Green’s family have a secret; there’s magic in their blood. Years ago, they were forced to choose between their status in society or their magic and the matriarch of their family chose the first. However, while she was growing up Claudia’s mother decided to bring back some of the old traditions, teaching her children magic in the night, until she was 25 and Claudia fell in love with a man who believed it was safer for everyone if magic continued to die.

Four years later Nicholas proposed and Claudia gladly accepted before admitting her heritage and how her mother had brought her up. While he was shocked, he ensured her that he would not hold it against her and their engagement went on, having their first child Dirk a year later.

While Freya was young her mother died and her father quickly began to grow paranoid about his children’s magic. While Dirk and Anton didn’t show any innate talent, Freya proved to be powerful and her close relationship with her grandmother only strengthened her abilities as she learnt to use them. Nicholas attempted to stop Ethel’s visitation rights but since he was unwilling to reveal her as a witch as it would damage his children’s future it was deemed he had no basis.

When she was ten, she fell under a curse that caused a gold coin to fall from her mouth with every word she spoke. She later learned the curse was an irrational last attempt by her father to deter her from magic, but she continued to learn about non-spoken magic under her grandmother’s guidance. However, the curse did cause her to retreat in on herself, unwilling to talk to those her own age and afraid of showing the symptom of the curse to the wrong person. Two months after the curse was placed on her, Freya was pulled out of school and began taking BSL as her modern foreign language instead of French.

She lost her grandmother when she was 15, at which point she went through a rebellious period of lying to her father and staying out all night. During this time, she was found by a dark magic dealer, Rex, when she went to the magic underground looking for the ingredients to a spell to resurrect her grandmother. Rex befriended her with the promise of breaking her curse and although he ultimately kept his promise, their relationship eventually culminated in Freya attempting a summoning. She lost control during the casting and the demon turned on her. It was close to killing her, when her eldest brother, Dirk, appeared and saved her. He had spent the past couple months attempting to track her down after she stopped returning home at night.

Once her wounds were healed and her condition stable, Dirk broached the topic with her about returning home ensuring her that their father wouldn’t care about anything that had happened, only that she was safe, but Dirk was wrong. Their father was furious and proclaimed that he was going to disown her, so instead she moved in with Dirk and he put her back into mainstream schooling, with the agreement that she would stop practising magic. It was a hard two years but she managed to complete her A-Levels and even got into Edinburgh University.

Lost by herself for the first time, Freya tried her best to focus on the task at hand: getting her degree. She managed to land herself a job near campus and an apartment with four other students. But it wasn’t long before her addiction to magic was replaced with an addiction to smoking and drugs encouraged by her roommates. By the end of her first year, she remembered very little of it and was only just passing her courses.

Once again she found herself in need of a change, she started seeing the university’s counsellor, who recommended a house near the edge of the city that had been run by students for years and was registered as substance-free housing. It took time to adapt to her newest lifestyle, returning to the house outrageously drunk within two months, but by the beginning of 2013 she had been sober for a year and her time spent in the house was the happiest in her life.

After graduation, where she achieved a 2:1 in Chemistry she completed an education qualification and began teaching Primary school students. Slowly she brought magic back into her life, with a couple of location spells and health potions, eventually working towards exploring the magical Underground that existed in Edinburgh.

When she was 24, Freya found Medusa, the dragon was barely a few weeks old and had been attacked by a fox, with no sign of her mother Freya took her to her apartment and healed the wounds. The pair formed a bond and Medusa chose to stay, spending a lot of time in the apartment’s sofa collecting coins and other shiny things that people dropped. When people who aren’t on the side of magic visit Freya places a glamour on Medusa to make her look like a Great Dane.

tagged by : stole it . tagging : steal it .

#┊freya. image.#┊freya. aesthetics.#┊freya. music.#┊freya. musings.#┊freya. wardrobe.#┊freya. body ref.#┊freya. headcanons.#┊rel. ethel.#┊rel. nicholas.#┊rel. claudia.#┊rel. dirk.#┊rel. anton.#┊rel. medusa.#addiction tw

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itslvca-blog · 6 years

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introducing,

waddup, peeps ?? this tiny bean goes by the name of rue ( she/her ) and i’ll be playing soft boy™, luca rosario. he’s pretty much a new faceclaim for me with an old character’s background. however, francisco has recently become my forever fave, therefore i’m so excited to have the opportunity to play him !! if you would like to hmu for plots / scream about connections all day long, please give this a like and i’ll come wiggling into your ims ( or discord; find me at justrue#2233 ) shortly after. under the cut, you’ll find a brief summary about luca and his life. also all my wcs are listed over here if you wanna check that out as well. his stats can be found here too. can’t wait to start interacting !!

+ disclaimer: very slight talks of cancer and mental health are below. read at your discretion.

layer one: the stats.

name. luca leonardo rosario.

alias. people usually just call him by luca but sometimes luke, luki, or leo make an appearance.

title. over time, he has proudly deemed himself an obsessive pizza addict, artistic nutcase, or one of the missing dead poets society members.

name meaning. his true significance of his name means a bringer of light.

age. eighteen years old.

gender identity. cis-male.

pronouns. he/him.

sexual orientation. predominately panromantic demisexual. it isn’t so much so that luca is completely disinterested in sex (he’s got a perfectly good libido, thank you very much), he just doesn’t find himself sexually attracted to people based on physical appearance or initial impressions. instead he finds personality, intellect, and existing emotional attachment considerably more compelling. the idea of intimacy with somebody he’s not close with rather repulses him.

current residence. boston, massachusetts.

religion. he was raised roman catholic but converted to spiritual agnosticism when he was fifteen. he views that universal ethics and love are far more important than claims about any deity and trivialize the arguments supporting or rejecting such claims. to luca, it doesn’t matter which religion someone might follow, nor does it matter whether or not someone believes in god. what matters is what someone does, not what they believe. he has his parents’ full support in his switch even though the rest of his family practices catholism.

spoken languages. portuguese (fluent/main), english (fluent/2nd main), french and polish (still learning but can understand it quite well).

education. currently a senior at houghton academy.

layer two: the story.

- so this is my baby boy, luca rosario and i love him sm ?? he usually goes by luca, but on occasion people call him either luke, luki, or leo. but he doesn’t care what people call him as long as it’s kind.

- luca was born in san paulo, brazil to both loving and supportive parents named jeremi and mariana. he lived there until he was six years old when his family moved to boston because his parents, who are both marine biologists, were located for work.

- his parents had him when they were both young.

- luca was also born out of wedlock, so by the time his parents decided to marry two years after he was born, his parents had already made the decision to give him his mother’s maiden name even though his father’s surname is polish.

- growing up, he had and still does, have a great relationship with his parents. with his childhood consisting nothing more than love and devotion from his parents, luca had nothing to complain about. his parents loved him dearly, whose pure heart and open-mindedness they helped to cultivate. they encouraged luca’s belief in extraordinary things and hoped he had carried it throughout his life growing up. his parents had always made him promise to have courage and be kind to others, for—as they explained to him—kindness has power, and that they would see him through all the trials that life could offer, in life and death.

- cancer/mental illness tw: when he was thirteen, his mother had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. upon hearing the news, luca’s whole world clasped. not only was he at a pivotal stage in his life where everything was changing and becoming more stressful ( becoming a teenager, starting high school, going through puberty ), one of the most important people in his life had be claimed by the deadly disease altogether. so many thoughts and feelings were going through his mind at the time, that he ran himself physically sick and had experienced his first panic attack. he has since been medically diagnosed with panic disorder. thankfully the cells on his mother’s cervix were diagnosed at precancerous stage and the doctors were able to treat it because it developed and spread. however, that didn’t and doesn’t stop luca from being in a constantly state of panic every time his mother so much as feels pain or coughs due to irrelevant reasons. the entire year had changed him and his family for a while.

- he has brother, who is three years younger than him, named tomás. his relationship with his brother, however, is a bit estranged. as much as he loves his brother and wishes they could see eye-to-eye, sometimes they have a tendency to butt heads often. whether that might mean your typical sibling arguments or full-on blown out fights, they just can’t seem to see get along. sometimes people believe they aren’t actually related or that they’re half siblings because when his brother was born, he took their father’s last name.

- most people would describe luca as the benevolent. despite being in a world where there’s hatred and suffering, luca declares himself independent and strong-willed by remaining kind-hearted and self-loving, not allowing the bitterness surrounding his life to overtake him and morph him into someone as cruel as the world seems to be every day. he makes the most of his life by remaining optimistic of the possibilities of a brighter future. but besides that, he’s also witty and sarcastic. he is unafraid to stand up for himself when he feels he’s in the right–or at least, attempt to do so. and although he strives to contain his optimism aura, he can fall into fits of frustration and annoyance quite often.

- he’s also super quiet and shy. he loves to make friends but because of his quiet complex, he usually has trouble speaking up and making his voice heard. he tends to become flustered a lot too when he can’t express his emotions; which he has trouble doing anyway when he’s not flustered.

- luca is capable of enduing tremendous hardship. though he may not handle difficulty in the healthiest or best way, often repressing emotion, he mostly like emerges on the other side. he doesn’t know how to express his emotions in a diplomatic way, but rather fumbles it all up and starts to ramble. rarely opens up because of this.

- to put it plan and simple luca is an art ho. luca always loved anything artistic. even when he was little, he would go around with his disposable camera and take pictures of everything and then take to paper to draw of all the things he had taken pictures of as well.

- he’s like a hippie dippy child of the universe. no joke. no seriously, his place at home is full of sensual shit and art. it’s getting out of hand and somebody needs stop him soon.

- he strongly believes that art is an umbrella term that relates to expressing of oneself ( not just through photography and painting ) and that everyone has the freedom to express themselves however they please. because of his beliefs, he chooses to break gender roles like bread and wears whatever the fuck he wants because yolo.

- his appearance pretty much represents his hippie dippy lifestyle with him wearing all sorts of cute hipster shit. he’s clothes are v flow-y but don’t let that fool you. he doesn’t miss the opportunity to represent his upper-middle class within his style, so he does dress to impress, let me tell you ( he’s a fashion ho too ). his hair color changes sometimes too depending on his mood but it’s generally never too eccentric.

#houghtonintro

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mysongfortheasking · 6 years

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Disturbing Children’s Books

In her speech “Dare to Be Creative,” author Madeleine L’Engle starts off by referencing a question originally presented by TS Eliot: “Do I dare disturb the universe?” L’Engle admits that is a daunting and difficult question—do we dare disturb the universe? And how do we do that? She says: “I believe that good questions are more important than answers, and the best children’s books ask questions, and make the reader ask questions. And every new question is going to disturb someone’s universe.”

Children’s books, she says. Not grown up books. Not classic literature. Not self-help books or deep commentaries. Not ancient texts or old legends or myths or any other type of reading material. Children’s books. Something we (myself included) might be prone to dismiss.

I am currently working on my Master’s in English, and this summer, decided to take an online summer course. I chose “Picture Book” class because I thought, “How could a class focused solely on picture books be that hard?” (The answer, I discovered, is that it can be that hard when you cram an entire semester’s worth of work into a five-week express course. I made it, but I didn’t sleep much during the month of June.) Despite my lack of sleep and insane amount of coffee consumption during that time, the class changed my life. I could write an incredibly long and never-ending post about all I learned from that class or the valuable materials we received (which I might do at some point or another), but that’s not why I originally started this post. Today, I want to share some disturbing children’s books. But disturbing in a good way.

Since there are countless “disturbing” children’s books, I decided to just share four good ones I’ve recently read. I also decided to narrow it down to a “theme” for this post: these books are all focused on female empowerment. But just because I say, “female empowerment,” do NOT think these books are just for girls. These books are for everyone. These books will interrupt the mainstream narrative and say, “Hang on, let’s think about this.” These books that will make you ask questions. These books might tell you something you needed to hear—they might even make you say, “Wow I never thought about that.” These books will open your eyes, challenge your thinking, and speak to your soul. I’ve attached Amazon links to them all in case you think “Wow I need these in my life!” (Because I promise you, you will.) These books will certainly disturb your universe, if you allow them. Let the disruption begin.

1) MY Rules for Being a Pretty Princess written and illustrated by Heath McKenzie

The protagonist in this book is an unnamed little girl who “more than anything else in the whole wide world,” wants to be a pretty princess. Her wish comes true when a real princess arrives and tells her the rules of being a princess: wear a pretty dress, always have perfect hair and makeup, attend dainty tea parties, dance gracefully, and finally, wait (literally, just stand there and wait) for a handsome prince.

Our sweet little protagonist is quickly bored and uninterested in the rules of being a princess, so she makes her own. She decides that to be a princess, you simply have to be yourself. You wear FABULOUS (instead of uncomfortable) dresses. You have AMAZING (instead of “always perfect”) hair and makeup. You attend DELICIOUS instead of dainty parties. You simply dance, instead of always having to dance gracefully. And (my personal favorite part of the whole book) she scraps the rule about waiting on a prince entirely, and in a beautiful closing illustration, dresses up like a knight and becomes her own hero.

This book is a simple one only in the sense that it doesn’t have a lot of words. It’s more of a “comic-strip” style with pictures and speech bubbles. There isn’t a complicated plot or storyline, but despite being minimal in nature, this book is still radically “disturbing.” Even though I saw the name on the front cover, I didn’t think twice when I assumed a woman wrote the book for other young girls. When I finished the book and flipped to the blurb about the author on the back, I was surprised to see the photograph of male author Heath McKenzie, and even more pleased to read the explanation of why he created this book: “Before Ava [Heath’s daughter] was born and before he knew she’d be a little girl, Heath began wondering about what might happen if he had a daughter,” the blurb says. “He wanted to make sure she knew she could be anything she wanted to be when she grew up! Because she can!”

You could say that Heath wanted to “disturb the universe” on behalf of his little girl, and this book certainly does that. He wanted to tell his little girl something that ALL little girls (and honestly, all people) need to hear: “No matter what anyone says, YOU can be whatever you want.” And while there isn’t a complicated plot line in this story, the closing illustration subtly sends the message: “You don’t need saving and you don’t have to wait around for someone to come and get you—you can be your own hero.”

2) Dinosaur Expert written by Magaret McNamara and illustrated G. Brian Karas

This book is about Kimmy, a young girl who loves science, especially dinosaurs. She is excited to share all of her knowledge on a field trip to the dinosaur museum, but one of her classmates named Jake says, “Girls aren’t scientist.”

Kimmy sees all “boy names” in the list of accomplished paleontologists and gets discouraged. Maybe, she thinks, Jake is right—she shouldn’t talk anymore about dinosaurs because, after all, she is a girl. But when her teacher, Mr. Tiffin, shows her all the work done by female paleontologists, Kimmy realizes that Jake is all wrong: girls can be contributing scientists too.

While this book has a lot more words (there’s some big science words that even I struggled with), it teaches the same thing that Heath McKenzie wanted to show in his book: you can be anything. I love that they picked a “male dominated field” like paleontology to demonstrate this, but I think there’s also an extra layer in the use of dinosaurs. Dinosaurs are usually a “boy thing”—boys get to play with dino toys, boys get to watch Jurassic Park, and boys get to be paleontologists. But Mr. Tiffin helps Kimmy (and the readers of this book) realize that it isn’t a “boy-girl” thing: girls can love dinosaurs too. There’s also an extra “bonus” in the back of the book where Kimmy presents readers with seven different female paleontologists from all over the world and all different stages of life. (My personal favorite is Daisy Morris, a four-year-old who discovered the fossil of a new species of dinosaurs, which is now named “Vectidraco daisymorrisae” in her honor.)

There’s so much educational information about dinosaurs in this book, even I learned a lot from it that I never knew. Personally, I think this book is one that is most powerful, because it’s not only educational, but also shows children that science and dinosaurs and being accomplished isn’t just for one gender: anyone can love and do and be whatever they want to.

3) I Dissent: Ruth Bader Ginsberg Makes Her Mark written by Bebbie Levy and illustrated by Elizabeth Baddeley

This book is obviously a nonfiction biographical book about Ruth Bader Ginsberg’s life from childhood to present day. It’s illustrations are amazing, and it shows beautifully how Justice Ginsberg encountered lots of difficulties—social things like racism and sexism, but also things like the death of her mother and raising a family while going to law school and pursuing a career.

While it focuses a lot on the aspect of female empowerment, it really is a book about standing up for right and injustice in general too.

Even though it’s probably the wordiest of all the books I mention here, that is not at all a bad thing. It has a lot of historical information and even teaches children vocabulary (specifically the terms “dissent,” “concur,” “object,” “protest”—lots of legal and activist terms), and adults can easily find a way to communicate the ideas to young children. I read this to one of my students (a six-year-old girl), and I had to find ways to “shorten and simplify” it a bit for her attention span and understanding. But when I asked her what she learned from the book, she looked up at me, smiled and said through the gap in her mouth where her front teeth should be, “Girls can do ANYTHING.” So I’d say she got the point.

4) The Princess and the Pony written and illustrated by Kate Beaton

I go to the library literally every day for work, and a librarian approached me a few weeks ago and said, “Have you read The Princess and the Pony?” I am SO glad she suggested it, because it’s become one of my favorites.

The Princess and the Pony tells the story of Princess Pinecone, the smallest princess who wants desperately to be a big strong warrior. But Pinecone feels she is too “cute and cuddly.” “Warriors get fantastic birthday presents,” Beaton writes, “Things that make them feel like champions. Princess Pinecone got a lot of cozy sweaters. Warriors do not need cozy sweaters.” Pinecone tells EVERYONE she wants a strong warrior horse, but instead they give her a round little pony whose eyes sometimes look in two different directions, who eats things it shouldn’t, and farts way too much (not kidding, that’s in the book).

Pinecone tries hard to teach her pony to be a warrior horse, but the little horse just can’t quite get it; nevertheless, she enters a battle and hopes for the best. But instead of fighting and being “awful brutes,” the other warriors fall in love with Princess Pinecone’s cute little pony. They all stop fighting and gush over how cute the pony is. (My favorite is when Huge Harold, who also has eyes that sometimes look in two different directions, exclaims, “Aw, he looks a bit like me!”) When Pinecone says, “This is not how a battle usually goes!” another warrior responds, “You’re right, but we warriors don’t often get to show our cuddly sides.”

Pinecone realizes she can help them get in touch with their cute and cuddly sides, and all of the warriors work together and learn that being a strong warrior doesn’t mean you have to always be “very big and very tough.”

I love this book for a lot of reasons. First of all, this book is HILARIOUS. The illustrations are colorful and well-drawn and comical (especially the pony), and the details in the story itself are so funny. But I also love the subtle representation it offers. For example, Princess Pinecone’s parents are clearly drawn as an interracial couple: her mother has dark hair, skin, and eyes while her dad has light skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. Pinecone herself is a mix of the two with dark eyes like her mother’s, blonde hair like her father’s, and skin that is a shade in between the two. The warriors themselves are all different shapes, sizes, and colors (in fact, in one illustration, there is a dark-skinned, female warrior in hijab subtly included in the fight). Even Harold’s little remark about how the pony “looks kinda like me” is representation—Harold sees a unique (not bad or funny, but unique) aspect of himself in a way perhaps he’s never seen himself before.

Another thing I love about this book is that unlike the princess in McKenzie’s book or Kimmy in Dinosaur Expert or even the great Ruth Bader Ginsberg herself encountered, there isn’t a clear outside force here: no one tells Pinecone she can’t be a warrior. Her parents support her completely, the warriors never question or make fun of her. The battle Pinecone struggles with is in herself. She thinks she is too small. She thinks she is too “cute and cuddly.” She thinks warriors don’t have the things she has, like cozy sweaters and fat ponies. She thinks these things make her weak. The struggle in Pinecone being a warrior is not one with the world outside of her: it’s an internal struggle with her own self-doubts.

Thankfully, Pinecone learns that warriors don’t have to be what she thinks. And, the other warriors learn this too. They all think that warriors have to be “a bunch of brutes,” as Beaton describes them. They (Pinecone included) think warriors have be tough and rough and always fight in some type of battle. But through Princess Pinecone’s silly little pony, warriors learn they can be cute and cuddly. Warriors can love cozy sweater and chubby ponies. Warriors can be small or big, male or female, and can appear rough or cute. And while I genuinely don’t believe there’s such thing as “girl and boy books” (all books are honestly for everyone), I do think another thing this book is especially good for disturbing the universe of toxic masculinity. It shows that to be strong, you don’t have to be a big tough brute who always fights angrily. It shows that it’s okay to be a warrior and be in touch with your “cuddly side.” It’s okay to wear a cozy sweater. It’s okay to gush over something that’s cute. It’s okay to feel. Through a story about a tiny princess and a farting pony, Beaton illustrates that being a warrior isn’t about your gender or your size or how many battles you partake in: it’s really just about being strong and accepting yourself just the way you are. And that’s a message that everyone needs to hear.

All of these books disturb the universe. These books make readers ask good questions. They cause readers to reevaluate their own ideas and the narrative around them. And they do it as children books. McKenzie’s sweet little princess helps us realize, “Hey, I don’t have to follow a set of rules and be perfect.” We learn along with Kimmy that girls can be scientists too (or whatever else they want). I Dissent shows that there is power in standing up to injustice and teaches toothless first graders “Girls can do ANYTHING.” And The Princess and the Pony shows that there is strength in both the tough and the tender. As I said earlier, these aren’t books just for children. These are messages and themes we all need to hear. All of us, regardless of our age, race, or gender should read these books and allow them to disturb our universe.

#English major #children's literature #children's books #picture books #the princess and the pony #I dissent #dinosaur expert #my rules for being a pretty princess #female empowerment #feminist #feminism #literature #books #book

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grimmshood · 3 years

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hi everyone im about to drop more writing. since i dont trust bhvr with anything the closest im getting to writing my own tome for jake is this. cw father mentions for a large portion, also i project a lot.

JAKE PARK: THE TOME-INING

A: Identity

Growing up, Jake Park had the unique experience of being, almost, a minority within a minority. The unique circumstances of his father’s birth led to his raising his sons so that they would stay in touch with God and with the family ancestry, no matter where they were.

Jake knew he had an aunt who lived in Karachi. He knew that his grandmother was a Pakistani migrant, his grandfather hailed from Itaewon. His father hadn’t gotten the opportunity to get very close to his Pakistani heritage, but he had been raised Muslim and almost lost his way. He insisted that Jake and Andrew be better than this.

Due to a promising job opportunity, the Parks moved to the United States, first Texas and then Maryland. Jake’s parents wanted their sons to thrive in this environment, so they let American culture be prioritized in their heads. His mother made sure that they would always be in touch with their heritage though, and spoke with them in both Korean and English. His father made attempts to teach the two Urdu (this did not last long) but managed to teach both how to read Arabic.

Jake had always known he was different, but he never truly realized just how much he’d felt it until he started high school. In his 9th grade year, he had truly become invested in the faces behind the music that kept him going for years, and seeing their free actions, gender nonconforming appearances, and varying styles (however ugly) first made him think that he was attracted to them. He’d thought they were beautiful, handsome, the perfect people.

It took a while for him to realize that he dreamed about BEING them- in the process he found that the way other girls looked at him would do something to his head, that he enjoyed being put to work with the boys, that he liked getting attention from the other girls, even if it was when they were making fun of his dark clothing, mannerisms and how he always had his nose in some kind of instructional manual.

It takes a year, but Jake realizes that there’s an appeal to masculinity, but he hates the concept of trying to actually be a man. He doesn’t want to be a man, and frankly he doesn’t want the attention of men either. When he starts doing his homework and trying to figure out what this is he’s feeling, it all clicks.

When Jake tries to explain being trans masculine to his parents, on top of being a lesbian, his mother does not understand but tries her best to support him. His father is distraught, but does not take action. Jake is still his son no matter the terms he prefers and the people he likes, even if his father does not want to accept that reality.

His parents have wondered if Jake’s identity issues came from his growing up autistic and bullied for his mannerisms - but neither will accept that as a reason. Neither does he- Jake’s special interest in engineering and post apocalypse practices are just aspects of him, his quiet demeanor and semi verbal behaviours are no real problem. He’s been masking for years, but when he leaves for the woods he finds he doesn’t have to do that anymore, and he can go days without saying a single word, just stimming with his knife and the textures of the trees and his camp throughout his daily routine.

B: Family Relations

Jake Park has never been considered average, and never will be.

He grew up in the shadow of his brother Andrew Park- something he didn’t mind until it was too late. He and Andrew were once very close- Jake used to love his older brother above all and relied on him for everything from friends to sharing his emotional pains.

This only lasted insofar as his father would allow it.

Mr. Park has always been insistent on the academic prowess of his children, and doing everything he can to make them as successful as possible. Where Andrew is dedicated to studying and reaching that goal as well, Jake finds he doesn’t need to study because everything comes so easy, at the cost of his constant changing attention span and desire to do literally anything else.

As a result, Jake’s stuck alone- he doesn’t want to upset his brother, of course. He supports his brother and would love to see him do well, but that means letting him sit alone and study all day. Even if it means he can’t hang out with Andrew like he used to. He sometimes tries to show Andrew things that he likes, in an effort to still engage with him, but his vague disinterest and dedication to his own little free time means that Jake is caught at an impasse- he knows his brother is doing his best, but feels like he’s being pushed away at the same time.

Jake’s reflex is to push back- he slowly stops engaging with his brother. They only speak at the dinner table or in small moments, but days can pass between them. He begins to isolate himself, feels that there’s nobody there for him and therefore he’s got to fend for himself in a world that wants to see him do things that he can’t.

Andrew gets into Yale, and the Parks are overjoyed. Jake’s still excited for his brother - this is what he’s worked so hard for! He even aims for Yale himself, just to prove that he’s capable, that his brother still means something to him, and the pressure is already on when Mr. Park looks at Jake and says, “Now you’ve got to get into Yale too! If Andy can do it, so can you!”

The thing is: Jake does get into Yale. It’s not hard- his isolation allows him to work on his schoolwork fairly well, even if he constantly forgets little things and his handwriting is awful and his writing is just barely understandable, because the projects he takes to school and the things he builds in his engineering class boost him up, even when he barely says anything about or for himself. He doesn’t understand how he’s gotten here, but he has. And the fact is that despite everything, he doesn’t get any scholarships (bah, we can afford it. but it’s still disappointing.) When he starts classes, he realizes that something just feels wrong.

The vague freedom he gets from being at uni turns out to be too little for Jake Park. He enjoys the classes, enjoys the freedom, enjoys his work as much as he can- but it all still feels wrong, and he can’t help but feel expectations growing and he knows that he doesn’t want to be the same as Andrew. His brother is aiming for big things - medical school, residency, the whole shebang - and Jake is simply just interested in taking things apart and seeing how they fit back together. He finds pleasure in observing nature and seeing what works, what nature does to itself, the kinds of things that can live on while others fall to sharp teeth and bone crushing jaws. None of that will get him on Andrew’s level, and he doesn’t want to be there.

So his grades begin to droop, his time in his room inflates, and his bed becomes his only reprieve to the depression that lingers in his head, pulling everything from the past onto him like he’s being pelted with an unending rain of stones.

He goes home on break, and tells his father that he’s dropping out.

Mr. Park is enraged - everything was going so well! Why would you stop now?

Jake just can’t handle the pressure anymore, and he needs a break.

There are no breaks for the Parks though, and his father wants him to get right back to his studies. Jake’s not willing, too stubborn to keep doing what he’s told and too upset to think about the consequences of his actions. He packs what’s important, and the convenience of having camped before gives him an idea.

On his way out, he tells his parents that they can find him in the woods if they need him. Otherwise, he has no plans of coming back.

#dead by daylight #dbd #jake park #txt #doc #i believe thats my writing tag. if its not ive fucked up horribly

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ohlvca-blog · 6 years

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INTRODUCING,

» francisco lachowski & twenty-two & cismale.「 after checking isabella’s diary, we saw luca rosario show up many times. apparently, he is a fashion photographer that isabella called her mutual friend. she mentions that they can be compassionate yet naive, and our background check says luca has lived here one month. if we move fast, we might catch them at the photo lab. 」

waddup, peeps ?? this tiny bean goes by the name of rue ( she/her ) and i’ll be playing Soft Boy™, luca rosario. he’s pretty much a new faceclaim for me with an old character’s background. however, francisco has recently become my forever Fave, therefore i’m so excited to have the opportunity to play him !! if you would like to hmu for plots / scream about connections all day long, please give this a LIKE and i’ll come wiggling into your ims ( or discord; find me at justrue#2233 ) shortly after. under the cut, you’ll find a brief summary about luca and his life. also all my wcs are listed over HERE if you wanna check that out as well. can’t wait to start interacting !!

+ disclaimer: very slight talks of cancer and mental health are below. read at your discretion.

LAYER ONE: THE STATS.

NAME. luca leonardo rosario. he was born out of wedlock, so he took his mother’s name at birth even though his father’s surname is polish.

ALIAS. people usually just call him by luca but sometimes luke, luki, or leo make an appearance.

TITLE. over time, he has proudly deemed himself an obsessive pizza addict, artistic nutcase, or one of the missing dead poets society members.

NAME MEANING. his true significance of his name means a bringer of light.

AGE. twenty-two years old.

GENDER IDENTITY. cis-male.

PRONOUNS. he/him.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. predominately panromantic demisexual. it isn’t so much so that luca is completely disinterested in sex (he’s got a perfectly good libido, thank you very much), he just doesn’t find himself sexually attracted to people based on physical appearance or initial impressions. instead he finds personality, intellect, and existing emotional attachment considerably more compelling. the idea of intimacy with somebody he’s not close with rather repulses him.

CURRENT RESIDENCE. he currently lives in venice, california but he travels quite often for his job, so residency usually fluctuates depending on how long he stays there.

BIRTHPLACE. san paulo, brazil.

NATIONALITY. brazilian.

ETHNICITY. half portuguese and german on mother side, half polish on father side.

RELIGION. he was raised roman catholic but converted to spiritual agnosticism when he was eighteen. he views that universal ethics and love are far more important than claims about any deity and trivialize the arguments supporting or rejecting such claims. to luca, it doesn’t matter which religion someone might follow, nor does it matter whether or not someone believes in God. what matters is what someone does, not what they believe. he has his parents’ full support in his switch even though the rest of his family practices catholism.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES. portuguese (fluent/main), english (fluent/2nd main), french (still learning but can understand it quite well).

EDUCATION. graduated with the bachelor of fine arts in photography and painting at the school of visual arts in nyc.

PROFESSION. he works as a full-time fashion/commercial photographer. meaning, he works with different agencies such as fashion magazines, building, modeling, landscapes, etc. he’s also usually on location and travels a lot for his career.

LAYER TWO: THE STORY.

- luca was born in san paulo, brazil to both loving and supportive parents named jeremi and mariana. he lived there until he was six years old when his family moved to maryland because his parents, who are both marine biologists, were relocated for work.

- his parents had him when they were both young, making his parents both twenty-two when he was born.

- luca was also born out of wedlock, so by the time his parents decided to marry two years later, his parents had already made the decision to give him his mother’s maiden name even though his father’s last name is polish.

- to put it plan and simple luca is an art ho. he even went to university for it too ( the audacity of it all smh ). luca always loved anything artistic. even when he was little, he would go around with his disposable camera and take pictures of everything and then take to paper to draw of all the things he had taken pictures of as well.

- he’s like a hippie dippy child of the universe. no joke. no seriously, his place at home is full of sensual shit and art. it’s getting out of hand and somebody needs stop him soon.

- when he turned seventeen, luca decided he wanted to go to college after high school. so he applied to an arts school in new york and graduated at twenty-one with two degrees in photography and painting.

- for about a year after graduating, he took some time to create his own freelance business while also looking for jobs in the commercial and industrial world of photography. about a three months ago, a fashion agency, settled in california, had contacted him about loving the work he had done in his freelance business and offered him a job as their full-time photographer. of course he accepted the job and moved out to venice, california. he’s been there for a whole month and hasn’t looked back since.

- upon hearing the news of isabella souza’s murder and also being a suspect in the case, luca’s kind of been on edge since. granted, he never knew isabella all that well, considering he met her through a mutual friend of theirs about as long as he’s lived in venice and became rather decent friends because of it. but to know someone killed her, freaks him out. he never met someone who has been a victim of a homicide case before and frankly, he doesn’t know how to act since the news broke.

#vb;intro #procrastination at its finest ‣ 「 out of character 」#this is long and unnecessary i'm a mESS.#please love me dfjdkflds.

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mistleto-3 · 7 years

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Coming To Conclusions

Misaki is in the midst of a sexuality crisis, and is further thrown for a loop when he finds out Tatara is transgender.

Pairing: Misaki/Tatara (trans male!Tatara)

5,241 words. Fluff.

Content warning for internalised homophobia, internalised transphobia, and mentions of domestic violence. Brief mikorei mention.

(Slightly belated) Fic for my fav ginger’s birthday.

AO3 | Ko-Fi

When Tatara had told Misaki he’d finally found a buyer his father’s old home and would be away from the bar for a couple of days to empty the last of the things out of the house, Misaki had been quick to volunteer to help him out. He’d reasoned that Tatara wasn’t exactly strong, and Misaki didn’t know how he’d cope moving heavy boxes and bits of furniture around by himself. Izumo was too busy running the bar to help him, and Mikoto was… well, Mikoto, so Misaki had taken it upon himself. It had taken a little while to convince Tatara to accept the offer- initially he’d been insistent that he would be fine on his own, and Misaki didn’t need to trouble himself, but eventually, he gave in.

It had been somewhat surreal for Misaki to enter Tatara’s childhood home- a tiny, run-down cottage just outside of the city. It didn’t seem like the kind of place someone like Tatara would have grown up. The house was fairly sparse; most of the furniture was gone, save for some of the things Tatara hadn’t had the space to bring with him when he’d moved into his apartment in Shizume city. The only indication Tatara had lived there were the knickknacks and paraphernalia of his old hobbies that cluttered the shelves, now dusty from disuse.

The pair spent the first morning moving out the furniture- most of it was rickety and held together with wood glue and duct tape, so Misaki pulled it apart and tossed the remnants into the dumpster Tatara had hired (he had great fun wielding the axe he’d found in the shed, though Tatara couldn’t watch in fear that Misaki would accidentally chop off his own foot, or something equally silly).

By lunchtime, the house was devoid of furniture. The pair had sat in the unkempt grass of the front lawn to eat their lunch, but as they returned into the building, Tatara was stopped in his tracks by the sight of the house he’d grown up in.

“Seeing it empty is so strange.”

Now that the cosiness of the mismatched and well-used furnishings had gone, the main room looked barren and cold. The wear was easy to see- the floorboards were scratched; the paint was flaking off the window frames, and damp had begun to peel away at the faded wallpaper.

Misaki didn’t know how best to comfort him, so he simply clapped Tatara on the shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “If someone’s buyin’ it then maybe they’ll do it up and it’ll get turned into a home again.”

Tatara smiled faintly. “I don’t know why I’m getting so nostalgic all of a sudden; it’s not like I had the happiest childhood here. But it’s still strange.” Despite the nod to what seemed to be a dark chapter of his history, Tatara’s expression was as carefree as ever.

“What do you mean?”

“Hmm?”

“About it not being the happiest.”

“Ah. As you can probably tell, we didn’t have much money when I was a kid. My dad… had some troubles. Debt, that sort of thing, and my mother left him when I was younger. He tried his best, but he was absent a lot, so I ended up being here by myself most of the time.” As Tatara spoke, he wandered over to the windowsill, where some of his old things still stood. He was still smiling slightly as he talked, as though he was simply discussing the weather.

Misaki frowned, but followed him across the room. A few photographs in cheap wooden frames perched between the other keepsakes and souvenirs on the sill. Tatara picked one up, leaving in its shadow a clear spot amongst the thin film of dust that covered the rest of the surface, and he smiled fondly at the faded picture.

“I still loved my family, and I still remember the happy times. My dad wasn’t a bad person, he was just troubled. It’s sad to think of what could have been here instead of an empty room if things had gone differently,” Tatara said, and as he spoke, Misaki peered at the photograph he held in his hands. The image had been bleached by the sunlight over the years, but it still clearly depicted a man and a woman, standing with their arms around one another in what looked to be a neater version of the front of the house. The lawn wasn’t overgrown, and flowers grew in terracotta pots beneath the window and beside the doorstep. Between them stood a little girl, smiling at the camera.

“I didn’t know you had a sister?” Misaki said cautiously, looking at the child in the photo. She bore a great resemblance to Tatara, but she wore a lilac dress, and her hair was longer and tied into pigtails.

“Hm? Oh, no, I don’t.” A sheepish look crossed Tatara’s face.

“Is that like your cousin or something then?”

“No, it’s me.”

Misaki raised an eyebrow. “Why are you dressed like a girl?”

Tatara smiled shyly. “I always forget you guys don’t know… I was sort of born a girl.”

Misaki paused, his brow furrowing as he tried to process the information. He was vaguely aware of people changing gender as a concept, but if he was perfectly honest, he was totally flying blind when it came to this sort of thing. He’d heard people mention things about sex changes and transsexual people in the past, but he was dubious about how reliable the information was.

He clammed up, stuttering as he tried to come up with something appropriately supportive to say, but his attempts were thwarted by the dozens of competing thoughts that bubbled to the forefront of his mind at the revelation. He bit his tongue, holding back the questions that even he had the good sense to know were inappropriate. Now that Tatara had mentioned it, it was sort of difficult not to notice how… feminine he was. Tatara had always been effeminate, but Misaki had always put that down to just being the way he was- that and the fact that Tatara was openly queer, and it sort of showed in his mannerisms. But in the light of what Tatara had just said, Misaki couldn’t not pick up on how delicate his hands were, how narrow his shoulders…

He shook the thoughts from his head- they felt disrespectful somehow, but he wasn’t quite sure why.

“S-sorry…” he began. “I’m, uh, not super up on all this stuff…” Misaki rubbed the back of his head nervously. “S-so that makes you, tra… transsexual, right?”

Tatara chuckled gently at his bashfulness, and to Misaki’s relief he didn’t seem offended. “That’s sort of an outdated term; most people use the word ‘transgender’ now, but yes. When I was born, they thought I was a girl, but I figured out as I got older that that wasn’t right.”

Misaki nodded slowly, and apologised again. “Who else knows…?”

“I was already out as a guy full-time by the time Homra really started to form, so the only other people in Homra who know are King and Kusanagi-san. And Anna. I try to keep it quiet- it’s not actively a secret or anything, but the guys have all always known me as a man, so it’s easier just to keep it that way.”

Misaki gave another nod. “I understand… I won’t tell.”

“You don’t have to treat me any differently or anything like that. I’m just like you and the rest of the folks in Homra, just wasn’t born with the same equipment.” He paused for a moment, then smiled, leaning against the windowsill. “I can tell this has kinda thrown you for a loop, hm?”

“L-Like I said, I don’t really… know anything about all of this.”

Tatara started setting the knickknacks from the windowsill in a cardboard box as he began to explain: “I figured out when I was about nine or ten that being a girl didn’t really feel right- I didn’t like being referred to as a girl or dressing in girly clothes. It’s like… how you feel when people say your name is a girl’s name, but turned up to eleven.”

Misaki nodded slowly.

“And then I hit puberty and my body started changing to be more like a woman’s and it made me uncomfortable, but I didn’t really put together why that was until I watched a movie with a trans character in it. I was watching English language films because my hobby at that point was learning English, and there was a woman in one of the movies that was ‘born a boy,’ so to speak. And I started to wonder: if she could be a woman even though she was assigned male at birth, maybe I could be a boy. So I did some research, and here I am.”

“But like… how do you look like a dude?”

“Testosterone injections. I’ve been on them for two years now; they help to masculinise my body- changing the way I store fat, making my voice drop, making me grow a bit of facial hair, amongst other things... Well, we’re still getting there on the facial hair front,” Tatara conceded, fingering a patch of sparse peach fuzz on his jawline.

Misaki smiled a little at the self-deprecating joke. In a way, it sort of dropped it all into perspective for him- worrying about being able to grow stubble was such a normal thing for a guy to worry about (indeed, Misaki had his own insecurities around his smooth face). “That… makes sense, I think. As long as you’re happy, I guess it doesn’t matter whether the doctor said you were a boy or a girl when you popped out, right? S-sorry if I say anything dumb.”

“It’s okay- you’re learning. If you have any questions, you can ask.”

Misaki offered a weak smile. “Thanks.”

The rest of the afternoon passed mostly without incident- the pair continued packing away the keepsakes on the shelves, and by the end of the day, they’d finished emptying the house even though Tatara had predicted it would take a couple of days. Having two sets of hands made quicker work of it, even with Tatara pausing every now and again to recount some anecdote about an old hobby of his, or a childhood memory. The insight into Tatara’s youth was sort of strange for Misaki. Aside from the whole him not always having been a dude thing, it was weird to see him talk so casually about what was objectively quite a neglectful childhood. It amazed Misaki that he turned out to be the sunny person that he had, considering everything he’d been through. Especially considering that the only other neglected kid Misaki really knew was Saruhiko, whose attitude was the total opposite of Tatara’s.

But underneath that, Misaki could still feel himself seizing up. He tried to distract himself with the packing, but there was only so much of his brain he could occupy just putting stuff in boxes. He felt like an ass for it, but he could feel the anxiety he usually only got around women tying knots in the pit of his stomach. And he didn’t know why- he’d always seen Tatara as one of the guys; why should he feel any differently now? He tried to avoid his friend’s eye as he worked, chewing his lip as a wash of guilt settled over him.

And of course Tatara noticed- Tatara was the sort of person who could read people’s thoughts off them like they were typed across their foreheads.

“Yata-san, is something wrong?”

“H-hm? Oh, no, just tired I think,” he offered, attempting to give a reassuring smile.

“Well, we’re nearly done here at least,” Tatara replied, though Misaki wasn’t entirely sure he was convinced by the lie.

It wasn’t until he got home that Misaki could really reflect properly on what it was that had been bothering him all day. He kicked off his shoes, collapsing onto the couch in his apartment and staring up at the ceiling with a deep huff. He didn’t like to think about this sort of thing- in fact, he actively hated it. But he hated the idea of Tatara feeling uncomfortable even more; he didn’t want Tatara to think Misaki’s obvious awkwardness and discomfort had anything to do with him being trans.

In a rather uncomfortable recent period of self-discovery, Misaki had come to the realisation that the reason he wasn’t exactly confident around women was because he didn’t feel the way he thought he was supposed to about them. Ever since he was a kid, he’d seen men in real life and in the TV shows he watched lust over women, pursue them to the exclusion of all else, obsess over them, get in fights and fall out with their best friends over them. It seemed to be the norm to do stupid and detrimental things just to get in some girl’s pants.

And Misaki didn’t get it. He just didn’t. He didn’t get what was so great about the idea of dating a girl or kissing a girl or having sex with a girl or whatever.

And then he’d met Tatara and the pair had become close friends, and Misaki suddenly started recognising the feelings he’d heard people talk about in the past- the butterflies in your stomach, the dry throat, the daydreams, the distraction, the desire to spend time with them. Except he didn’t feel them about a girl; he felt them about Tatara. Tatara was kind and funny and gentle and beautiful and Misaki felt a sort of magnetism toward his clansman that he’d never felt toward any woman.

It had taken Misaki a long time to process the fact he thought he might be gay- even now, he hadn’t completely made peace with the fact, and he’d never breathed a word about it to anybody.

At first, he’d worried he was a misogynist, and that was why he didn’t like girls in that way. Which had made him hate himself. Ever since he’d seen the black eyes his biological father used to give his mother before they’d gotten divorced, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t be the kind of guy his dad was. Being the sort of man who respected and cared for women, the provider, the man of the house, the protector, was important to him. It had taken a while to reconcile this desire with his lack of attraction to women.

In a weird sort of way, it had helped when he started hearing rumours that Mikoto was involved with the Blue King. Mikoto was the kind of guy Misaki had always aspired to be- he was strong and brave and he protected those who couldn’t look out for themselves and he never let himself show weakness. The only depiction of gay men Misaki had ever seen before that were the stereotypical effeminate guys with lisps and feather boas, and as much as Misaki respected those people, that wasn’t what he wanted for himself. And then he’d caught Mikoto and Reisi kissing in the bar, and aside from his initial mortification, in an odd sort of way, Misaki was comforted. It was reassuring to know that someone like Mikoto could still be… well, Mikoto, and still kiss guys at the same time.

It had taken months, but Misaki had finally started to come around to the idea that he might be gay after all, and maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. He’d even started to fantasise about asking Tatara out, and had a plan half-formulated in his brain.

And then this happened. He’d discovered the guy he felt so strongly for had been born with what most people would deem a girl’s body, and now the parts of himself that had fought so vehemently to suppress the idea he might be gay had resurfaced with a vengeance. They told him he was wrong after all- if the guy he wanted to date wasn’t really a guy, then maybe he wasn’t really gay.

Misaki pulled the front of his beanie down over his eyes in frustration with himself, resisting the urge to pull on his own hair. If he’d heard anyone else suggest that Tatara “wasn’t really a guy” because of the way his junk looked when he was born, Misaki would have punched their lights out. He knew Tatara was a guy- he’d been a guy as long as Misaki had known him. But he was having difficulties getting those intrusive thoughts to shut the hell up.

Eventually, he managed to get them to tone down their misgendering, but he still couldn’t quite shake the thought that maybe if he was attracted to someone with what most would consider female body parts, then perhaps he wasn’t gay after all. He didn’t even know what parts Tatara had- even he had the good sense not to go asking about whether Tatara had boobs or what he had in his pants, but even the slightest prospect that Misaki might have a crush on someone with a vagina was enough to sow seeds of doubt in his head.

And Misaki could feel that doubt starting to make him act strange. His nervousness around Tatara continued to bug him, and he felt his cheeks heating up whenever he was in his vicinity. He’d also noticed himself getting more protective of his friend. Tatara’s effeminate appearance often meant that people weren’t quite sure right off the bat how to gender him, and it wasn’t uncommon for people in his vicinity to be heard whispering to one another wondering if he was a man or a woman.

Unfortunately for the whisperers, Misaki overheard some of them one day, and something just sort of snapped in him. A pair of boys from the nearby high school were walking not far behind Misaki, Tatara, and Dewa as they made their way back to the bar.

Chuckling, one of them whispered to the other: “Do you think that blond is a dude or a chick?”

Misaki normally wouldn’t have done more than shot them a glare, but this time, before he could stop himself, he whirled around and snapped at them:

“Are you an asshole or just an idiot?”

The boys looked flabbergasted for a moment, but then had the decency to mumble an apology as they hurried past, abashed.

Tatara tried to assure Misaki that it was alright- he didn’t have to defend him, but Misaki hadn’t been able to resist the urge. A part of him knew he was overcompensating for the intrusive thoughts he’d had after Tatara had first come out to him, and it only made him feel more guilty.

Misaki could feel himself continuing to acting weird for a couple of weeks. The unwanted sexuality crisis was bad enough, but piled on top of that, his shame at the fact he was even having this crisis in the first place was eating away at him. Tatara was a man, regardless of whether he’d known that his entire life, and Misaki was attracted to him, but not to girls, and that made him gay. It was simple. So why couldn’t he shake the doubt taking root in his mind?

He was also mortifyingly aware of how observant Tatara was, and constantly convinced that his friend would pick up on his behaviour, and somehow figure out what it was that was on his mind. It’s not like it would be difficult- he’d mysteriously started acting strange right after Tatara had come out to him, and he hated the thought that Tatara would assume Misaki was uncomfortable with his gender identity.

Thankfully, he didn’t mention Misaki’s odd behaviour, and when Misaki’s birthday rolled around, he seemed as eager as ever to organise something to celebrate. Seeing as his birthday fell mid-week that year, Tatara had planned something big for the following weekend when more people would be free to attend, but he also insisted that they have a small gettogether on his actual birthday, even if most of the Homra guys wouldn’t be able to make it. Tatara had been so excited to plan it that Misaki couldn’t bring himself to decline (he felt awkward, allowing him to do all this when he was having all these shitty thoughts, even if he couldn’t control them), but he was secretly sort of reassured- at least he knew Tatara didn’t hold a grudge.

To Misaki’s relief, Tatara’s plans for his birthday itself were low-key: movies and pizza and a couple beers (the invitees were instructed not to tell Izumo that Tatara was enabling underage drinking) with the guys at Tatara’s apartment, and all Misaki had to do was show up. Unfortunately, only a few people could make it- most of the clansmen either had plans that night or work the following morning, so either couldn’t come, or could only do so for a few hours. Rikio seemed a little off all day at the bar, and predictably he texted to say he couldn’t make it as he had a stomach bug, which Misaki thought was fair enough, so at the start of the evening, aside from the host and the one celebrating his birthday, the guest list consisted of Yo, Dewa, Kosuke, and Akagi. However, most could only stay for one movie, with the exception of Yo, who left two-thirds of the way through the first film, citing a hot Tinder matchup as the reason for his premature departure.

When Misaki was left alone with Tatara, he offered to leave, not wanting to make things awkward, but there was a genuine smile on Tatara’s face as he asked him to stay.

“There are plenty of snacks left,” he joked, and Misaki gave a weak smile, settling back onto the sofa beside him.

And of course, Tatara immediately picked up on his odd demeanour. “Everything okay?” he asked casually.

“Y-yeah…” Misaki cursed himself internally for his stutter- Tatara didn’t seem too concerned before, but now he leaned forward in his seat, a crease between his eyebrows.

“You sure? You’ve been acting a little strange for a while…”

Misaki shut his eyes in embarrassment. “S-sorry…”

“Sorry? What for?”

“I’ve been acting weird since that day at your place…” he mumbled. “S-since you told me…”

“…Told you I’m trans?” Tatara offered, his tone neutral.

“Y-yeah… And I didn’t want you to think I was bein’ intolerant or anything. I’ve never seen you as anything other than a dude and that ain’t gonna change.” His voice was quiet, and though he’d opened his eyes, he kept them fixed on the coffee table. He drummed his fingers against the half-empty beer can in his hands anxiously; he didn’t really want to be having this discussion.

“I didn’t think you were being intolerant,” Tatara reassured him, and as he rested his hand comfortingly on Misaki’s shoulder, Misaki felt his heartbeat stumble in his chest. “You didn’t seem disgusted or anything like that. But I am a bit worried; what’s bothering you? Are you afraid of saying the wrong thing?”

“Y-yeah.” It was true, but only a half-truth, and Tatara obviously knew it.

“…And?”

Misaki shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I-It’s heavy, I don’t wanna be a downer.”

“You’ll probably feel better once you’ve gotten it out. I don’t mind.”

“I’ve never… talked about it before… I don’t wanna make things weird…” The words almost seemed to physically snag in Misaki’s throat.

“It won’t,” Tatara promised immediately.

Misaki screwed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. “I-I sorta… had a sexuality crisis… and all the gender stuff brought it back up in my head.”

Tatara patted him on the shoulder comfortingly, waiting for him to elaborate.

“Over the past few months, I’d… I dunno, sorta figured maybe I was g-gay…” He let out a shaky breath- it was strange to hear that said aloud. “B-but it took a while to like… fully accept it, I guess. I thought you had to be like stereotypically gay, and I didn’t want to be like that. I didn’t want to have a lisp and watch crappy daytime TV and listen to Lady Gaga. So I fought really hard against the idea.”

Tatara smiled softly. “That’s okay. You don’t have to fit into society’s stereotypes to be gay; the only thing you have to do to be gay is to only be into other guys. I know it’s easy to internalise all the crap people say about queer folks, but liking other men doesn’t make you any less of a man.”

Misaki gave a weak smile. “Thanks…” Then, he sighed again, steadying himself to force out the next sentence. “I was getting pretty sure I really was… gay… especially after Mikoto-san started screwing the Blue King or whatever, like if he can kiss dudes and still be kickass then so can I…”

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re starting to accept yourself. There’s nothing wrong with being gay; you’re still you, no matter who you happen to fall in love with. Am I the first person you’ve told?”

Misaki nodded. “Mm. I’ve never even said it out loud.”

“That’s okay. There’s no pressure to ‘come out’ if you don’t want to, or even to label it if you don’t want to. It’s nobody’s business but yours, and perhaps any guys you’re interested in,” he added with a grin.

“T-thanks.”

“Is there anyone you’re interested in?” Tatara asked playfully, but then he paused, examining the expression on his friend’s face. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah, fine,” Misaki replied, but he spoke far too quickly.

“…Coming out wasn’t the only thing bothering you, was it?”

Misaki bit his lip. “I-I dunno if you wanna hear the other bit.”

“It’s okay, you can talk to me about anything.”

Misaki huffed a sigh, slumping back against the couch with a torn look on his face.

“I promise. No judgement.”

“Hnn… fine,” Misaki conceded, fixing his gaze on his shoelaces. “I-I thought I’d sort of come to terms with it, you know, the whole gay thing… and then you came out to me…” He paused, taking a deep breath. He didn’t dare look over at his friend. “…And all these stupid voices in my head I couldn’t get to shut up were doing some fucked up mental gymnastics to try and reason that maybe I wasn’t gay after all.”

Tatara tilted his head. “Why would that make you not gay?”

“Because… y-you’re hot, okay? It’s just an objective fact. Like, there isn’t a person alive who’s into dudes who wouldn’t be attracted to you. But these stupid voices were trying to persuade me that if you weren’t born a dude or whatever or if you have girl junk… n-not that I’m asking! Whatever’s in your pants is your business… but like… Ugh, I sound like such an asshole. I don’t know how to say it without coming off like a total douche. Like, you’re a dude, so whatever junk you have is dude junk, and I’ve never seen you as anything but a dude regardless of junk and I really need to stop talking about your junk I’m sorry…”

Tatara continued rubbing his shoulder. “Take your time.”

Misaki sighed, trying to slow down the pace of his words. “The dumb nagging voices at the back of my head were trying to twist you being trans into an excuse to say I wasn’t really gay, because I still think you’re hot even though you’re trans, and I’m pissed off at myself for trying to think that way.”

“You weren’t doing it on purpose. Like I said, it’s hard not to internalise people’s intolerance when you’re figuring yourself out. As long as it’s not really you talking, then it’s fine.”

Misaki gave a stiff nod. “T-thank you. S-sorry, I shouldn’t be making you comfort me for being like this… Y-you’ll always be a dude in my eyes and I’ll fight anyone who says you’re not.”

Tatara was quiet for a second, and Misaki finally lifted his gaze to look over at his friend, afraid he’d upset him. But to his surprise, a faint smile curled the corner of Tatara’s lips, and his cheeks were flushed.

“Totsuka-san?”

“People don’t usually question their entire sexuality just because one person they think is hot turns out not to have the junk they’re expecting them to. It usually takes a little more than that…”

Misaki opened his mouth to protest, but Tatara cut in before he had a chance.

“Yata-chan, do you have feelings for me?”

“W-what? Why would you think that?” Misaki’s heart squeezed in his chest in panic, and he could feel himself stumbling over his words.

Tatara gave him a soft smile. “I had suspicions for a while- you get this look in your eye when you look at me, but I didn’t really dare believe it…”

Misaki paused. “W-what?”

“I thought: ‘maybe it’s just wishful thinking,’ ‘maybe I’m just projecting’.”

Misaki blinked in shock, the surprise almost knocking the wind out of him- he’d forgotten to breathe for a second. He couldn’t quite allow himself to process what he thought Tatara was suggesting. The room felt sort of wobbly, as though he was dreaming.

“A-are you saying…?” Misaki didn’t quite have enough breath to finish the sentence.

But he didn’t need to. The next thing he knew, Tatara had cupped his jaw gently, and had leaned in to brush their lips together. Misaki froze on the spot, unable to do anything more than close his eyes.

Tatara pulled back, and after a moment, he chuckled. “Breathe, Yata-chan.”

Misaki nodded, finally managing to draw in a gasp of air. “Y-you…?” was all he could manage to say.

“…Like you?” Tatara finished for him, and Misaki managed another stiff nod of confirmation. “Yeah, I do. You’re handsome, and you’re really sweet beneath your hardcore exterior. After Fushimi left and we started spending more time together, I found myself really looking forward to seeing you, and getting butterflies and being self-conscious about how I looked because I wanted you to see the best side of me…” He blushed deeper as he spoke, and the sight of Tatara’s cheeks turning pink made Misaki’s chest feel funny.

He couldn’t quite summon words for a few second, and when he could, all he could think to say was: “A-am I awake?”

Tatara burst into a fit of giggles, rocking forward to bury his face in Misaki’s shoulder, almost bashfully. “You’re so cute…”

“S-shut up…”

Tatara looked up, a hopeful grin still playing across his lips. There was a playful twinkle in his eye, and Misaki didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so pretty in his life.

“So what do you say? Wanna go to dinner with me sometime?”

“I’m definitely gay,” Misaki blurted, staring at Tatara in disbelief. Now he’d finally come to that conclusion, he sort of couldn’t believe he’d ever doubted it- it seemed obvious now. He was really god damn gay and he had a big fat gay crush on his closest friend, the contents of his underwear be damned.

Tatara giggled once more. “Is that a yes~?”

“F-fuck yes!” Misaki didn’t seem able to spit the words out fast enough, and Tatara threw his arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly with a dazzling grin.

Misaki decided this was the best birthday present he’d ever gotten.

#yata misaki #totsuka tatara #k project #tatasaki #yatatotsu #k fanfic #character birthday

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