#and the pressure to be pretty/feminine/whatever that she talks about COMBINED with having to be a junior olympic athlete

[butchlifeguard]

every DAY i think about how aoi asahina was definitely getting killed by body dysmorphia especially in chapter 1

[alister312]

what do you think fem gregstophe would be like as a couple and as individuals??????

I don’t genderbend very much BUT i do have some specific headcanons in mind for the both of them!! firstly, let’s talk names bc i don’t want to answer this whole ask referring to them as “fem gregory” and “fem christophe”. I really like Grace for Gregory (i think xyrothmuse’s fem Gregory has that name?) bc it sounds similarly both stuffy and normal. plus it fits with his/her religious connections. for Christophe, Christine or Christina is the obvious choice. I personally prefer Christine, just bc it sounds nicer in my head. so from here onward: Gregory→Grace, Christophe→Christine

appearance-wise, i very strongly feel like Grace would wear her hair in a braid! she strikes me as someone who would walk the line between practical and traditionally feminine, so her hair is long but it’s always tied back. maybe in a french braid, for various reasons lol. Christine on the other hand has her hair even shorter than i imagine Christophe’s hair. like, i imagine him with a bit of a mullet or at least hair covering most of his neck. but Christine definitely has most of her hair buzzed. mostly bc their mom (or dad for Christine, if everyone is genderbent) is obviously extremely traditional and they rebel against that. so growing your hair long is traditionally rebellious for a boy, whereas shaving it all off is traditionally rebellious for a girl. with that in mind, it’s probably clear that i imagine fem gregstophe (gracetine??) as being rather butch4fem haha.

Christine wears a lot of the same clothes she’s always had for forever. she got really good at sewing bc her mom (or dad) forced her to learn traditional housework stuff, so she doesn’t care about getting roughed up doing something bc she always just sews any tears she gets. she even always has a travel sewing kit and some fabric in one of her pockets, since there’s pretty much a 100% guarantee that she’ll get up to something. there’s a lot of patches on her pants and jackets.

Grace is the only daughter of wealthy socialite parents so there is a LOT of pressure on her to be perfect. since she’s much more scrutinized, it’s hard for her to do something like run off and become a mercenary, so i think she definitely becomes a criminal defense lawyer. her passion for freedom and human rights combined with overachiever syndrome makes her more inclined to take on cases that seem impossible to win with defendants going up against a lot of great injustice. she does not get much sleep.

despite being a lawyer, Grace doesn’t care about breaking the law if it’ll help exonerate innocent people. so she will often work on the legal side of a case while Christine helps out by working on whatever the less legal side. because of this, they try not to be really seen together in public (Grace knows her reputation is important to a jury and unfortunately having a partner who’s been arrested a lot would not be good for rep). they have a very private home where they spend pretty much all their free time together and occasionally have friends that they trust over.

[mrskurono]

Something my mutual pointed out while we were speaking and I wanna know your thoughts on it, no pressure. (My mutual's words, not mine and I got permission from them to share it):

‟I have a eerie feeling that Maki's family enforces extremely strict gender norms. I don't know why though. Her mom honestly seems like another victim in the situations. Since there was proof along in the manga saying that "You've sidelined mom!" implying that her mother was allegedly doing well before meeting/marrying/beginning a romantic relationship with her father.

Now, due to Maki having trouble with her body and having a...complicated relationship with femininity, her father and brother's body-shaming and rude comments affect her even more. Stuff like "Your arms are getting fatter" and "Aren't you over-doing your work out?" pretty much speaks volumes and kind of makes me think that they think that (mostly the ones they find women "small and delicate." It's pretty much like the One Piece women situation where there's only two body types: Supermodel figure and Old Hag figure

Oh and her brother's misogyny and double standards? Even worse. It pretty much shows that he doesn't really see women on the same level as men, as shown as he was baby-talking his girlfriend—which I found extremely uncomfortable and weird, but maybe that's just me. His true colours really showed when Maki (rightfully) called him out on his possible hypocrisy (saying that the nether is a dangerous place, yet he has went in it twice) and he said "You're a woman!"

To me I wish Maki would've called him out on his behaviour and sexist ways more but, they were in a life or death situation..

Pretty much, her father and brother contributes onto why she has problems with her body. All bodies of different shapes and sizes are beautiful, don't let anyone think otherwise”

That's it

- 🎲 anon

Oh the wife and I were just talking about this actually! She got to the Company Two arc and the Oze arc this morning.

Gonna put it under the cut for season 2 spoilers and bc it's probably gonna be longer than it should lol

Ok first off 100% agree with whatever the FUCK is her brother's issue. That weird fixation he has on gatekeeping Maki I honestly feel like it surpasses her parents. By a long shot. Idk if its a combination of the ideas he morphed from his parents, being in the military and all that "guy" time/"locker room" talk, or if he has a sibling rivalry with Maki. If it was a golden child vs other child I could understand it more. As Maki is certainly doted on a little more than the first born is but it's not that cut and dry and when the weird amount of anger he has at Hinawa "corrupting" and "manipulating" Maki just honestly goes past even their parents. The brother is a piece of shit. I didn't even like him at the end. I wanted Maki to punch him in the nuts and tell him to fuck off.

As for her parents, I'm going to play the devils advocate for them both here. Where I see it's easy to point out "Her dad is a bad guy, her mom is a victim and both of them control Maki" I just wholeheartedly don't believe that's the case.

From the conversation we got with the actual parents (who seem to have genuine feelings for each other and communicate well), it seems both of them were continuing their military careers until Maki's mom got pregnant. It sounded like she was working even while they dated and were married. But it seemed like the dynamic took on a new form once kids came into the picture.

And frankly, that's what happens. Things drastically change when you bring kids into it. You can't keep doing the same thing. And who's to know if her mom had an easy pregnancy? It might have not been an easy time (bc its not even easy when you do have a smooth pregnancy) Discounting if it was a hard pregnancy or not. The fact is problems pop up.

What if her mom wanted to breastfeed exclusively? What if her mom couldn't handle going back to work and post partum? What if there just wasn't enough support outside their marriage to help a new mom who wanted to do things a certain way? (as we saw she was and is a stubborn woman)

Taking into consideration all the things you feel and want for your kid(s) when you bring them into the world. The fact her mom stayed home just makes more sense. If she's breastfeeding it wouldn't make sense for her husband to stay home. If his salary is higher paying it doesn't make sense to take the pay cut (kids are expensive). These are all questions that my wife and I had to deal with when planning for our son. And I think to treat their situation different bc "ones a man and ones a woman" is just looking to be pissed about something. I stayed home. Giving birth was hard. Having a baby is hard. I miss my work of course. But I don't regret my choice to be a stay at home mom.

I don't feel like the mother was ever a victim. Bc frankly she still holds control over her husband and her kids and her home. Maki's dad was very doting on their mom and very clearly in love with her. And her mom obviously has the final say when they're acting up at the table so I don't feel like she was a forced housewife that just did what her husband wanted. She's a mom who values being a mom and that's part of her identity. Which is totally as legit as people who choose to not have that be a big part for their lives.

As for the "forcing Maki" back from the 8th. I honestly get it. I will with every fiber of my being dissuade my son from going into the military. It's bad enough he has to sign up for the draft. Bc if I could guarantee a job that's well paying, safe and close to home, no freaking duh I'd want him to do that. No parent (worth a damn) wants their kid in danger and wants to give their kid the world. Obviously as parents we learn in the end that our kids will do and make choices on their own. Whatever they might be but we always worry about them being safe and coming home to us.

I think the only way it would have really been depicted as "abusive" is if her parents didn't get past it. If they still spent all their time trying to control Maki. But they don't. After Maki states her wants and needs they accept it without a second thought. They don't try to keep making her do what they want. Or gaslighting her into thinking she can't do it. They just let her do what she feels is right with their support.

Between Maki and her parents I def feel like there was some communication issues and accepting your kid isn't you little baby is hard. But they grew from it and it changed so I don't think her parents are that terrible. They're just worried parents. Her brother on the other hand, is gross. And I don't know where the fuck he got his weird ideas from honestly. Their dad is not that bad.

[mrs-nate-humphrey]

no pressure or anything but if you ended up writing this my little nerdy punk heart would have been eternally grateful 🥺 (and please, please, please, boyband him a little, that hair can't go to waste) love you!!!!!💖 these tags actually made my day so thanks!!!!!!

hello jo, i hope you're doing well!! <3 sorry abt taking a while to get to this ask, i have been a little out of it, and i didn't want to half ass a reply to something as important as a natie themed ask....

this entire concept is 100% on my to-write list!!! i have a lot of thoughts about nate figuring himself out/figuring out who he is away from his family's expectations of him and the ideas people who think they know him have of him (since he's so popular, everyone thinks they know him, he can't escape the reputation that follows him around, etc etc).

in fact, since we're talking about this - i made a list of connected, nate-focused, stuff! and this response got RIDICULOUSLY long. so. 11-point bullet list focusing on nate, here you go!

you might enjoy my natessa fic "out of focus". it's not exactly this, but it is sort of the first time i dip my toe into the pool of.. whatever this concept is. nate lets vanessa buy him a shirt he would never pick out for himself. things go on from there!

i have a lot of thoughts about nate & ruby, specifically. we never actually got to see her, but i think he'd awkwardly gravitate towards her in that way that you do when you're young & queer and you meet an Openly Gay And Comfortable person for the first time. and i think ruby would see this and kind of adopt him/take him under her wing? anyway.

more natefic i am yet to write involves nate coming out to vanessa, vanessa being the first person he comes out to, it's after a lesbian punk concert and he's hyperventilating a bit and he KNOWS v will support him. she has literally shown him in a million ways that she's a good ally to the lgbtq+ community, and vanessa's just like, "what's wrong?" and nate is like. "nothing's wrong, and i really like you, but i'm not - i don't - " and then he says something awkward and stumbles through how he likes men, and vanessa gives him a hug and kisses his cheek and says "thank you for telling me that"

anyway i bring up #2 and #3 just to say that i feel nate has a sort of comfort with the abrams sisters that he doesn't have with anyone else at the time (he will eventually get here with blair and serena too, but in s1? they ALL had their own shit to deal with and i don't think nate was really in a place to open up to them, whereas vanessa & ruby aren't his childhood friends so in that way, it's easier, etc). and i love the thought of like. vanessa bleaching his hair super pale, ruby buying him a hair straighter (and of course he knows how to use it, he's blair waldorf's ex boyfriend what do you expect of him) and just. the abrams sisters - without even realising they're doing it - giving nate a space to explore who he is and specifically, his presentation

so we can either roll with nate being a trans man, which i LOVE, and am trying to write a fic about - OR - and it makes sense here, with these headcanons specifically, i feel like nate would maybe be one of those cis people who's explored their gender identity, realised they're cis, and therefore, is far more in touch with their gender than the average cis person?

connected to THAT, i have a fic in the works in which nate just presents... extremely femme. he goes super flamboyant, dresses in a way that puts himself on everyone's gaydar, etc etc. at first he does it to be like "fuck you" to his family, but after a bit he realises he actually really likes being perceived in that way, as a queer man, as a pretty queer man, and it makes him feel in control & good about himself to be able to do all these stereotypically feminine things WHILE identifying 100% as a man. putting on nail polish and mascara and gloss, wearing very femme things and heels, etc etc, it makes nate feel like himself in a way that he's never really felt before. (he IS a cis man.) dan bumps into nate at a gay bar, doesn't recognise him at first (this is a very au fic, i think they've lost touch since high school ended) and then promptly falls in love with nate AND has a gender identity crisis that goes a bit like "well nate maybe you can do these things and still identify as male but i can't" and it's just... trans dan my beloved.

unconnected to all that, you know what would've been fun? s2 nate is staying with the humphreys arc, and jenny... dyes his hair for him, and designs outfits for him, and basically both of them just. go thru a whole fashion revamp together.

i have a lot of ideas for futurefics in which jenny is like. 18, 19, etc and has a cool new line of men's clothing, but she doesn't have the $$ to hire a professional model for her clothes OR she wants the person modelling the clothes to be someone who Gets her mission statement in designing them (this is better but it could sorta be a combination of both) and essentially she awkwardly asks nate to model lingerie for her. he is like, of course! because i'm me, this doesn't go anywhere romantically, but if a jenate shipper wants to take this idea and run with it, go ahead, just credit me, lmaooo. i will definitely write this fic to centre around nate & jenny both being really gay, which is the other direction altogether, so that doesn't bother me.

since we're speaking about nate in lingerie, this fic of mine's first birthday is coming up in a few days! wow, it's been a whole yEAR.

so, disclaimer, any and all fics that centre around Identity... always take a lot out of me + i always have to be in a very specific headspace to write them (that's why the nonbinary dan series is taking ages, too). so while i really DO wanna write all the nates exploring how they present and, as the kids say, fucking around and finding out, it might be a while!

oh. this reminds me*. i REALLY have to finish writing my demisexual nate fic... it's a tricky thing to write. i have another fic im yet to write about how sleeping with dan makes nate re-evaluate a lot of things, in a very trauma survivor way (like an "oh, this is what it feels like to be with someone who respects me!" kind of way) and that... i want to write it sooo bad but i gotta do the idea justice. life is Hard.

*if anyone is curious about my thought process - “nate fucking around and finding out” ... wait, a bit like.. “nate fucking around and finding out that he doesn’t even like to fuck around, which is what happens in THESE fics i’m writing, let me just,...” etc.

[dearjamesxo]

Lip Gloss

[in response to THIS ASK]

Billy x Leo, M lite, femboy!Leo

Part 1 - Create temptation

Billy’s focus is shot. He must’ve read the same paragraph seven times, each time forgetting to absorb even a single, measly conjunction. The project is due in two days, and he’s supposed to present his part to his group in an hour to cut the fat. He procrastinated down to the wire, which isn’t usually a problem; in fact, he thrives under pressure, always pulling high marks out of his arse somehow despite doing the bulk of the work in a fraction of the time.

Bea wasn’t worried when he told her he was holing himself away in the library until he had to meet her, Spike and Susan to go over things. She knows Billy’s M.O. as well as anyone, knows he’ll piece together something coherent and impressive that will wow their teacher before they have to hand in the written half of their project.

And Billy’s absolutely going to do just that.

As soon as the gorgeous, young thing across from him stops being so bloody distracting.

The boy sits beneath the window, one table down in the chair that faces Billy, reading what Billy recognizes as The Catcher in the Rye. For what purpose, Billy doesn’t know; it’s not on the syllabus nor the recommended reading list. He can’t fathom someone would willingly subject themselves to that sort of horseshit. Horrible book, in Billy’s opinion, a pretentious waste of paper that serves no other purpose than to make the reader feel stupid for not vibing with the protagonist’s motivations when, in reality, Holden Caulfield is just a spoilt moron.

It’s not profound or artistic, it’s shallow, subpar nonsense.

Billy senses the boy across from him feels the same given the number of long-suffering sighs and adorable snorts the boy’s made in the span Billy’s been watchi—distracted by him. This isn’t the first instance Billy hasn’t been able to tear his gaze away from the boy – Leopold Wettin, though most of their classmates and teachers refer to him simply as Leo. Leo’s been distracting Billy since last year when Leo returned to school after spending the summer hols in Greece, sunbleached and bronzed. He came back different, maybe not confident but certainly more comfortable in his own skin.

Leo’s always been pretty; slight build and straight lines, a shy charm about him that appeals to the girls he hangs about with, though he wasn’t on Billy’s radar as anything more than a body filling the seat in Billy’s peripheral. But when Leo waltzed in that first day of the new school year in the girls’ kilt, knee-highs and chunky Doc Martens shoes, Billy n o t i c e d.

It took Billy a month to realize why Leo’s blue eyes seemed more startling, accentuated by an artful smudge of thin black liner and a generous layer of mascara that fans his long lashes perfectly. Christ, and then there’s the gloss, applied between classes when Leo thinks no one’s looking. Tinted very faintly, smeared with precision, and evened with a kiss, making Leo’s pout glisten a juicy petal pink that begs to be sampled.

A throat clears and Billy comes to, drowsy eyes dragging up from where they lingered on Leo’s mouth.

Well, shit.

Leo arches a slender brow, quirks a vague, Mona Lisa smile and asks, “See something you like?” in the overtly flirtatious tone he uses like a weapon against the boys in their year who torment him.

Billy blinks away the blur in his vision and straightens in his seat, chooses honesty because what does he have to lose: “Yeah.”

Crimson heat blossoms high on the arcs of Leo’s cheeks, flushing him sweetly. He licks his lips, a nervous tic that Billy doesn’t realize he emulates, and ducks his chin, slouching into his chest. Tipping his head, Billy watches Leo shrink and wonders; he’s never seen Leo this uncertain, meeting every challenge he encounters from the other boys with the sort of lofty courage required to be different and survive secondary school.

Billy pushes back his chair and stands, rounding his table to get to Leo’s. There, he pulls out the chair across from Leo and plops down, sprawling with his back against the wall, one arm on the back of the chair and the other on the surface of the table, knees spread. He sits quietly for a moment, openly admiring how Leo’s blush brings out the smattering of freckles across his face.

“Not what you were expecting?” Billy guesses.

Leo breathes a laugh, “No.” Then, bolder, “Not from you anyway.” He lifts his head again, turns to the side to glance out the window, the faded sunlight casting his features in gauzy relief, giving him a softer, more feminine appearance.

Billy feigns injury, hand over his heart, “Ouch. What’s that supposed to mean?”

Leo shifts, tilts forward, and folds his arms on the table, elbow pushing his book aside.

The collar of Leo’s shirt is loose, top few buttons undone and tie discarded. An assortment of thin, silver chains – some with simple pendants, others plain – are spun around his neck, drawing Billy’s attention downward. What Billy can see of Leo’s cream-pale chest is smooth, the peek of muscle within Leo’s shirt stirring something hot and hungry low in Billy’s gut.

“Just that boys like you don’t talk to boys like me.” Leo’s face pinches as if he sucked something sour, “Not unless they’re being dickheads.”

“You think I’m a dickhead?” Billy smirks.

With absolute surety, Leo says, “Yes.” before he tacks on in a loaded tease, biting and releasing his plush bottom lip coquettishly, “But you’re welcome to try and change my mind.”

The boy is a seductress in disguise, all cute stances, and bubble-gum tones on the outside and fiery, sex-kitten on the inside. He knows what he's doing, Billy can tell, has likely done this dance before, and doesn't that just send a sharp sting of jealousy through Billy. He bets Leo isn’t wearing Tesco tighty-whities under that rolled up kilt and, damn, does he want a chance to find out.

“Pfft,” Billy leans in, takes an exaggerated look around and says like it’s a secret, “I dunno, beautiful, I’m not sure you can handle it.”

“Oh?” Leo scoffs, gradually stands from his chair while bending further forward across the table, upper body supported by arms that squish the subtle mounds of Leo’s chest like cleavage. He arranges himself sinuously, hips hitched, arse in the air, back bowed, and blinks slowly at Billy, clicks his tongue, “I’m not so sure about that.”

This close, Billy can smell the light fragrance of whatever perfume Leo prefers, combined perfectly with the clean, salty tang of boysweat from their earlier PE class. He licks his lips again, pulled toward Leo as if by a string.

Truthfully, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on his project if he was given millions of pounds to do it, anyway. Why not enjoy himself before being ripped a new one by Bea and the others?

“Care to find out?” He asks brazenly.

≡≡≡

CONTINUED ON AO3 💋

[ranma-rewatch]

Episode 23: Enter Mousse! The Fist of the White Swan

*yawn* Wow, I finally got some good sleep. Back to the Ranma Rewatch, then. Hey there, long time no see, going to try and get back on track. This week we’re still in the middle of the season 2’s opening story arc, and another main character shall be introduced to us. Will I like him better than I did ten years ago? Only way to find out is to look at the next paragraph, from when I’ve watched the episode.

This episode raised my hopes and then gently lowered them a little, but on the whole I’m happier than I thought I would have been.

The story starts with Akane taking Ranma to see Dr. Tofu, under the assumption that as someone with lots of experience with Chinese medicine, he’d be able to fix what Cologne did to Ranma. Sadly, the technique used is something only a master could do, far outside of his wheelhouse. However, there is one thing he could do.

To counteract the Full Body Cat Tongue, Tofu hits a different pressure point in Ranma, one named after old men from Tokyo. Why? Because apparently they’re well known for being able to stand even the most scalding heat in their baths, and this technique gives the user that same ability. Sure enough, it let’s Ranma return to his uncursed state, but there’s a catch. Kasumi calls, turning Dr. Tofu into a bumbler before he can give the warning, so Ranma and Akane just head to school.

After class, Akane harangues Ranma into taking her out for food, which their classmates immediately notice has a lot of romantic energy to it. Then Shampoo and Cologne appear, amazed that Ranma somehow found a way around the elderly amazon’s strategy, but Cologne seems sure anyway that this won’t be an issue.

But wait! Out of nowhere, someone new appears. His name is Mousse, and he’s a man from the amazon village who has been in love with Shampoo since they were kids. He has terrible eyesight, so bad that he frequently mistakes people for the love of his life, and after a series of confusions he learns that Shampoo is dead set on marrying Ranma.

Mousse attacks Ranma, and challenges him to a manly duel for Shampoo. But she refuses that, so instead makes the duel over Akane for seemingly no reason, which Ranma agrees to. Oh, and he’s known for using ‘dark magic’ which is in practice more sleight of hand and weapon-based techniques.

That evening, Akane is doing what she frequently does when pissed off, namely training in the dojo. Ranma shows up, clearly aware he really stepped in it and wanting to make amends by making it clear there’s no way he’s going to lose to Mousse.

But Akane makes it clear that isn’t why she’s mad. The reason she’s upset is that she doesn’t belong to Ranma, and she won’t belong to Mousse. She’s her own person, and this duel doesn’t respect that. Hell, if he loses that’s fine with her, she’ll just beat up Mousse herself. The entire family shows up, interpreting this as kind of a romantic confession to Ranma.

The next morning, it Dr. Tofu calls and gives the warning he’d meant to tell them earlier: the technique he used is a one-use, so if Ranma gets splashed, he’s stuck again. Akane only finds this out after Ranma takes a dip in the pond while sparring with his dad, and they all freak out over what he’s going to do. Why none of them think to just tell Mousse that Ranma has a Jusenkyo curse, I have no clue.

Someone, Cologne probably, turned the match into a huge spectacle, with food carts and seating around the arena and everything, there’s a huge crowd. Ranma’s late, but that’s only because he made a disguise to hide his cursed body. He clowns around a little at first, having prepared a bunch of lame magic tricks, but then ‘does a trick’ by ‘turning into a girl’, giving him an excuse for how he looks.

Mousse buys it, but he’s angry that Ranma’s not taking it seriously. He takes of his...robe? Tunic? Whatever, either way he’s buff as hell under there, and an attack from his barbed footwear ruins the front of Ranma’s stage assistant outfit, bearing his boobies to everyone. This causes a bunch of men in the audience to storm the fighting area so they can sexually assault Ranma and then I paused Hulu and stared at my computer screen for three full minutes before continuing the episode.

*sigh* Anyway, the Kuno siblings show up, interfere with the fight, Mousse gets deadly series, then Akane reminds Ranma he can use his new technique in battle, which he does to win. Then a bunch of his admirers crowd Ranma, and Akane is annoyed. Done.

Let me get into the stuff I found really interesting with this episode, to start with.

The first half was honestly just really enjoyable. Akane and Ranma had a really good chemistry going on, it reminded me a lot of the episode where Shampoo first showed up. There was a casual closeness to them, still tempered with occasional arguments, that was just cute.

I also liked that they thought to try asking Dr. Tofu for help, since his expertise has helped so often in the past. Making it clear this was a problem he could only barely help out with, and only one time, sold how Cologne and what she’s done to Ranma isn’t something that’s going to be solved easily.

What was a bit odd in that scene was we actually got to see the curse take effect, as Ranma’s torso changed, something I’m fairly sure we’ve never gotten that much detail on. It’s usually either off-screen or a cutaway. But I like we saw it with the curse turning him back to his uncursed form, since it emphasized this was Ranma regaining the body that felt right to him.

I’ve talked about this before, but I also couldn’t help noticing throughout this episode the weird dichotomy in who uses Ranma’s preferred pronouns and who doesn’t. Akane, Shampoo, and Cologne all call Ranma ‘he’ even when he’s in a feminine form, but Akane’s siblings call him ‘she’ instead.

The dojo scene was also a treat for me. I just kind of love how it put the focus on how this whole arrangement devalues Akane. Both the engagement from their parents and the terms of this duel take away her say in what she does with her life, and she isn’t having it. It almost sounded like she was comforting Ranma, taking a burden off his shoulders, when she told him he didn’t have to stress over the fight because she’d be fine either way. I am here for Akane stressing her independence and making it clear that no matter what happens in the fight, she is her own person.

That was a lot of nice stuff, but sadly the second half of the episode didn’t really carry it through. It wasn’t terrible, but the fight wasn’t really anything special, and the whole bit with the guys storming Ranma...yeah. Didn’t care for that. But hey! It’s finally time to do another Character Spotlight!

Unlike Cologne, who I am still holding off on doing a Spotlight for since I don’t feel like we’ve gotten to really see enough of her yet, this one episode basically gave us most of what we need to know about Mousse, so let’s just do it.

In terms of voice acting, his English performer is Brad Swaile. He’s done quite a few things, but he’s most well known for being the voice of Light in Death Note, which is quite a funny comparison. Both characters have huge egos, that’s to be sure, but Light is usually taken seriously, while at least in the dub Mousse is basically just a joke the entire time. Swaile plays him very comedically, which does fit the generally goofy tone of his character.

It is in contrast, however, to his original Japanese voice actor, Toshihiko Seki. Like a lot of the seiyuu, he has done a million things, but of particular note are his roles as Legato Bluesummers from Trigun, another anime I love quite a bit, and as the Japanese Dub actor for the Tenth Doctor in Doctor Who. Honestly, finding out the Japanese dub castings is a treat every time I do a Spotlight. But anyway, Seki largely plays Mousse more seriously, as a confident warrior, only going for comedy with how over-the-top some of his attacks get, considering how silly they are. I’m going to tentatively say this is another performance I think works than the dub, which is fairly rare for me as far as anime go.

So, who exactly is Mousse? Well, like I said before, Mousse is Shampoo’s childhood friend, and the first member of their tribe we’ve met who is a guy. His character motivation is literally just that he wants to be with Shampoo, and will beat up/kill Ranma to get her. Pretty simple.

What makes him silly is the combination of his terrible eyesight, a fairly common trope that now that I think about it is kinda ableist, and how he fights. He’s a master of hidden weapons, but more often than not the items he’s fighting with are silly things, like a toilet or a yoyo. Combined with his high self-confidence, and Mousse is fairly Kuno-like, only quite a bit sillier.

Only enough though, he’s more similar to Kodachi than to Tatewaki. Why? Well, because he’s deadly. Of all of Ranma’s primary rivals/reoccurring antagonists, Mousse is easily the one most ready to kill, not unlike Shampoo. When he gets serious, he trades in the silly weapons for genuinely dangerous weapons. He started choking Ranma with his bare hands in their first encounter, then tried doing it again with rope not long afterwards. Ryoga might talk a lot about killing Ranma, but Mousse has done a lot more to actually attempt that.

All of that said, I’m pretty ambivalent on Mousse. I don’t hate him, but of all of Ranma’s primary rivals, he’s easily the most boring. He doesn’t have the je ne sais quoi of Ryoga or the pompous elitism of Kuno, he’s just a deadly joke character who’s obsessed with Shampoo. Maybe my opinions will change over the course of the rewatch, but for right now I’m still pretty meh on him.

But you know what I’m not meh on? This episode! Even with the weaker second half, the first ten minutes or so were good enough that I’m overall pretty sunny on it. Listen, I’m an easy mark, give me some Ranma/Akane fuel and some decent drama, and I’m happy. I’ll put this in the top half of episodes so far between the ending of the fight between Ranma and Kodachi and the climax to Shampoo’s introductory arc.

Episode 7: Enter Ryoga, the Eternal ‘Lost Boy’  

Episode 12: A Woman's Love is War! The Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics Challenge!

Episode 15: Enter Shampoo, the Gung-Ho Girl! I Put My Life in Your Hands

Episode 9: True Confessions! A Girl's Hair is Her Life!

Episode 2: School is No Place for Horsing Around

Episode 19: Clash of the Delivery Girls! The Martial Arts Takeout Race

Episode 6: Akane's Lost Love... These Things Happen, You Know

Episode 13: A Tear in a Girl-Delinquent's Eye? The End of the Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics Challenge!

Episode 23: Enter Mousse! The Fist of the White Swan

Episode 17: I Love You, Ranma! Please Don’t Say Goodbye

Episode 20: You Really Do Hate Cats!

Episode 16: Shampoo's Revenge! The Shiatsu Technique That Steals Heart and Soul

Episode 8: School is a Battlefield! Ranma vs. Ryoga

Episode 11: Ranma Meets Love Head-On! Enter the Delinquent Juvenile Gymnast!

Episode 4: Ranma and...Ranma? If It’s Not One Thing, It’s Another

Episode 5: Love Me to the Bone! The Compound Fracture of Akane's Heart

Episode 1: Here’s Ranma

Episode 22: Behold! The 'Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire' Technique

Episode 3: A Sudden Storm of Love

Episode 21: This Ol' Gal's the Leader of the Amazon Tribe!

Episode 10: P-P-P-Chan! He's Good For Nothin'

Episode 14: Pelvic Fortune-Telling? Ranma is the No. One Bride in Japan

Episode 18: I Am a Man! Ranma's Going Back to China!?

But once again, this arc still! Isn’t! Done! No, the end of the Phoenix Pill Arc, if you want to call it that, comes next week with “Cool Runnings! The Race of the Snowmen". Most of my memories of this episode come from a YouTuber I used to follow hating on it, but I’m ready to give it a fair shot. See you then!

[dresupi]

For: @sansaastaerk Prompt: Aren't you gonna unwrap your gift? Ship: Sansa Stark/Theon Greyjoy

Rated E, under the cut

Other tags: Established Relationship, Smut, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Couch Sex, Mentions of Past Fertility Issues, Pregnancy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

She plopped the gift in his lap, and Theon nearly spilled his coffee all over himself, grunting at the weight of it. It was vaguely round and heavier than it looked.

“What’d you get me? A cannonball?” he asked. A bit of an overstatement, it was likely only a couple of pounds.

Sansa simply smirked. “I dunno. Guess you’ll have to open it and find out.”

He took a long sip from his coffee and set it on the table in front of him, setting to work unwrapping this gift that had his girl looking so smug and pleased with herself.  Theon was unable to really imagine what she could have possibly gotten him. Especially since the only thing he could think about wanting was sitting primly to his right, waiting for him to tear the paper off of whatever this was.

The paper was green and shiny. Foil of some kind, and it was difficult to get a grip on it to rip it. And then once he did, it didn’t really rip, just squeaked under his fingers until he could slide under the tape and undo it.

It came open easily then, revealing a blob wrapped in more wrapping paper.

He smirked and looked up at her, practically vibrating with excitement. “You’ve just wrapped something really small in tons of paper, haven’t you?” he asked, picking up the gift and turning it in his hands.

She nudged his knee with her foot and giggled. “Aren’t you going to unwrap your gift?”

Sighing, he started in on the thing in earnest.  He tore red paper, gold paper, paper with little pink stars, a layer of newspaper, and about twelve more layers of different wrapping paper off the blob.  All he had to show for it was a slightly smaller blob and a pile of brightly coloured paper all around him.

“If there’s one more layer on this thing, you’re going to start taking off layers as well,” he teased, to which Sansa reached up for her dressing-gown-covered shoulder and tugged it down to seductively show off her flannel pyjamas.

“I’m only partly joking,” he said with a laugh, ripping the newest layer of paper. “I’m liable to lose interest…”

“In a gift?” she asked, joining him in a laugh.

“The only thing I’d like to unwrap is you,” he replied, the last words coming out a bit more raw than he was expecting for so early in the morning. But he shouldn’t be surprised. She sometimes got home late at night and he could rally for a shag at three in the morning.  Why should nine-thirty be any different?

He tossed the paper on the floor and Sansa reached for the belt on her dressing gown, untying it and slipping the floral jacquard off her shoulders and over the arm of the sofa.

They’d been somewhat friskier as of late. Mostly because they’d been trying for damn near a year and a half to have a baby, only to have the doctor tell them to stop trying so hard, it was only putting undue pressure on the both of them.

So they’d stopped fucking on a schedule and gone back to fucking when they wanted.

Theon wasn’t sad to see the calendar with the red circled days go. Not that he didn’t absolutely love the process of trying, he was starting to feel like a stud service. He couldn’t imagine Sansa felt any different.

So it was nice to get back to this again. He ripped off another layer of paper.

The next two layers only got rid of her socks, but the one after that got her to shimmy out of her pyjama bottoms. The next one got her knickers to slide down her legs, onto one foot, where she flipped them into his lap. They weren’t his favorites, but a close second.  Blue lace with a little heart cutout.

Theon wasn’t even paying attention to the gift in his lap anymore.  He was just ripping paper and watching Sansa slowly unbutton her shirt and toss it across the floor.  He dumped the gift on the coffee table and crawled down the sofa towards her. Her legs looked miles long, and he wanted to kiss every inch of them and the place where they met too.

“Aren’t you going to unwrap your gift?” she giggled as he sucked soft kisses up the inside of her calf, towards her knee.

“You did it for me,” he rumbled against her skin, bending her knee and moving up her inner thigh. She extended her leg again, propping it on the back of the sofa as he reached the apex of her thighs, nuzzling against her sex and running his tongue through her folds.

She felt only slightly damp under his tongue, but that didn’t last long. He moved one hand up her body, fingers skimming her skin until he reached her breast. He flicked his thumb over the tip of her nipple, gently swirling it until he felt it pebble. Sansa squirmed beneath him, sighing as he flattened his tongue against her, gliding along her pussy until he reached her clit.

Repeating the action, he could feel her start to rock against him, could feel the pulse in her sex as he reached her clit.

She tasted tangy and feminine, her scent almost overwhelming him with desire. His cock stiffened rapidly. Every second felt like hours as he slowly teased her. It got to the point where he was pretty sure the slickness he was tasting was from her and her alone.  It was at that precise moment that he switched things up a bit, swirling his tongue against her nub and sucking on it softly.

Bucking against his mouth, her hand clamped down on the back of his head. “Fuck… gods, Theon.”

He rutted against the couch cushions, his erection reaching that critical point where it couldn’t get any harder, so it started leaking from the tip. He could feel the head of his cock sliding against the inside of his pants with every movement.

Moaning softly, he doubled down on her clit. Swirling and sucking and wriggling until she let out two gasps of air, followed by his name, hissed into the silence of the room while she held him in place, quaking and quivering while he slowly began to wind her down.

When he looked up at her, he could feel how sweaty his face was. How wet his mouth and chin were with her.  Sansa was beautifully flushed and panting, one hand still stroking through his curls while the other was lying alongside her head.

“Gods,” she repeated. “You’re going to kill me.”

He grinned up at her, pushing up on his hands and knees so he could crawl towards her. “Surely not…” Whatever cunning quip he’d been planning was lost when she yanked the front of his t-shirt, as effective a way at silencing him as any.

She kissed him greedily, her tongue licking along his lips and cleaning them off. Fuck if every single thing this woman did wouldn’t get his engine purring.

His own kisses felt sloppy, given how tingly his lips and tongue were, but Sansa didn’t seem to mind. He felt her leg wrap around his waist. The one that was propped on the back of the sofa.  She flexed slightly, pulling him in.  He could feel her heat through his pyjama bottoms. His cock twitched and he fumbled with the drawstring so he could pull himself out.

She wasn’t helping things along at all, with all her breathy moaning and the sweet tug of her teeth on his earlobe.

His breath hitched when she finally reached down to help.  She dragged his pyjamas down over his hips and his cock sprung free against her. The tip was slippery wet as he jutted against the juncture of her hip and thigh, leaving a trail of his arousal behind.

Her hand closed around him, gently sliding up and down the length while every word he tried to speak got garbled in the process of saying it.

“Fucking hell, Sans…” was all he could manage, his hips rocking into her hand while she cooed in his ear.

“Gods, you’re so hard, Theon… does it ache? Does it feel good when I touch it?”

“Fuck yes…” The words extended, like an exhale more than a curse.

He could feel the pressure bunching in his gut. Tugging at his spine and forcing his hips to buck towards her.

She guided him to her folds, sliding the head of his cock through the slickness still gathered there. A combination of her and him, his tongue tingled at the memory as she released him and he slid fully inside.

Sansa made these cute little grunting sounds when he fucked her.

Those sounds were one of his favorite things. Them, and how she clenched her pussy around him like she was trying to break off his cock and take it with her.

This time, though, she wasn’t grunting. She was talking.

And the way she was talking never failed to fucking liquify him.

“You feel so good, Theon…” she arched her back, jutting her breasts towards his as his hips made contact once more. “So fucking good, you’re so good…”

“Sansa…” he replied. “Sansa…” His thrusting sped up, and he wasn’t sure if it was him or if it was her legs wrapped around his waist, but he was barreling towards a very quick orgasm if he didn’t slow up soon.

Her walls clamped down and he had to fight to keep his eyes open.

“Gods, your cock is perfect,” she murmured, one hand reaching down between them to touch herself, except he had enough wits about him to bat her hand away.

“I can do it,” he grunted, noting her amused smile as he rolled his thumb over her clit, his rhythm never ceasing until he saw her eyes close and felt her start to flutter around him, a moan seemed to wrench itself from her so very composed face, sounding a little like his name, but it was too spent to make much sense.

He didn’t care, he was already speeding up, chasing his own release and jolting in surprise when he didn’t have to go far to find it.

Theon didn’t want to think about what he looked like at that moment, surely not as beautiful as she did. Probably like a gawping fish or something, shaking through a quickly overwhelming orgasm while he emptied himself into her.

He collapsed against her, his head pillowed by her breasts as he panted through the aftermath, sliding his softening cock out of her and watching almost languidly as his spend dribbled out onto the throw blanket.

“Think we did it that time?” she asked, sounding breathless as he pushed up on shaky arms so he didn’t crush her beneath him. “Did you put a baby kraken in me, Theon?”

He huffed out a laugh and sat back on the sofa, shifting to push his pyjamas and pants fully onto the floor. “I dunno, you feel it clawing around in there yet?”

She half-heartedly kicked him and pushed up to crawl towards him. “Do you think you’d know if you did?”

He snorted out half a laugh and pulled her into his arms. “I doubt I’d know until you told me otherwise. But hey, don’t worry about that, right?”

She snuggled up against him and exhaled deeply. “Right.”

They lay there for a few moments, the sweat cooling on their skin as their breathing returned to normal.  Or at least, his did. Sansa seemed nervous, her heartbeat fluttering against his chest until she sat up and reached for his partially opened gift. “Aren’t you going to open this?”

He chuckled and reached for it. He tore off more and more paper until nothing remained but a very small box. Not too small, actually. It was about the size of a postcard. And light as hell. He wondered what she could have possibly gotten him that weighed so little.

Unless it was tickets to something. Theon couldn’t think of anywhere he’d like to go, or any event he’d like to see, but he pulled the lid off the box just the same.

A picture.

Of her hand holding something.

He frowned and pulled it out, his eyes seeing what was there and still not believing it until he looked up at her.

“Two lines means…”

“It means I’m pregnant.”

“You are,” he said, his heart racing like mad as he stared down at the two purple lines on the white stick in the photograph Sansa was holding. “You’re… We’re… You are?”

“I am.” She was nervously fidgeting and chewing on her lip, practically bouncing in her seat and it suddenly clicked.

“I’m gonna be a Papa?” he whispered, a smile tugging at his lips before he turned towards her and hugged her so tightly she squealed.

“Oh…” he released her immediately. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I didn’t… no, that’s silly. I couldn’t… I…”

“I need more sentence structure to understand you completely, but no, you can’t squeeze the baby out of me like that, and yes, you’re going to be a Papa.” She looked positively radiant. Why hadn’t he noticed that glow in her cheeks before?

“I love you,” he whispered, leaning over to kiss her soundly.

“I love you too.”

“When we tell the little one about this day, I’m going to be wearing more clothes in my retelling.”

“Me too,” Sansa giggled. “But that’s a long way away, so…”

“So…”

“Fancy another go?”

“Always,” he murmured, meeting her lips and allowing her to pull him back down on the sofa.

[queenofthefaces]

*slams down paper* Give a thesis on Stanny boy. :D

I finished all my exams so LETS FUCKIGN GO!!! A lot of this is personal interpretation combined w hc character development 👌 I went kinda off topic bc y’all apparently like my analysis!! So here u go!!

1) sexuality hc: I love exploring queer themes w Stan sm ;;o;; I think he’s an incredibly relatable character and fandom tends to focus on his good morals so he’s the kinda character we’re more comfortable exploring like that :0 (unlike Eric who’s Problematic or Kyle who’s pretty morally gray and who has some questionable interactions w the ppl he’s had romantic interactions w)

And I love portraying Stan’s exploration into his sexuality as a very...slow kind of journey? Like Stan being someone who’s pretty ignorant but earnest, and appreciating when someone is able to help guide him (like Kenny or wendy)

But to the question: I hc Stan as bi!! Like a lot of ppl do :0 again w the slow journey, I see Stan as being the kind of person who would get into queer issues, and just being curious in general and asking questions, alongside wanting to explore w other people—like feeling a romantic/sexual tension w/ another boy but not knowing what it means, and only after he’s had someome start to guide him does he connect the pieces. Like Stan realizing “oh all those times I had a CRUSH on that guy I didn’t just admire him” sort of thing

And it’d be a very personal journey as well, I can’t imagine Stan being open or talking abt his sexuality while he’s still tryna figure it out, mostly bc he isn’t sure abt himself and he doesn’t feel secure enough to be open, plus he’s probably shy abt that kinda thing in the beginning.

And honestly I prefer Stan exploring his sexuality with Wendy or Kenny—I have a whole hc that he’d be uncomfortable with talking to kyle about it, not bc he has anything against Kyle—it’s just that Kyle sometimes gets too in his own head, gets uncomfortable with serious conversations, can sometimes leave Stan behind, and can think he knows Stan best/talks over Stan. I can’t see Kyle being someone patient enough to let Stan talk without adding in his own two cents and confusing or frustrating Stan, and Stan needs someone attentive and non-judgmental to talk things through

Wendy (esp w Wendy as a v knowledgeable queer person) is a good choice to help Stan out bc she’s very compassionate, emotionally sensitive, and wants to help.

(Going into hc-zone:) wendy might also fall into the thing Kyle does where she talks over Stan, in that she knows *so much* she thinks she can guess what Stan feels and kind of flood him with too much information unintentionally. It’s not a bad thing to try and inform him about gender stuff and bi/pan/ply/omnisexualities but Stan isn’t ready for all that yet. And I think Stan is also the kind of person who wouldn’t be super comforted by labels and facts the way Wendy is. Where Wendy likes having specific definitions to explain how she feels, Stan is overwhelmed by those labels bc he’ll overthink them and doubt himself

...which is why I prefer Stan exploring this stuff with Kenny, bc I have a really elaborate kind of relationship development between those two that could blossom if they let themselves grow closer, esp during times where Eric and Kyle are off doing Their Thing. Kenny being someone who’s incredibly sure of who he is, being a great listener, very emotionally sensitive, able to keep a secret, and able to read people well and handle situations between people. Ken is the type who can listen to Stan w/o judging him or making him feel overwhelmed, and knows when to ask questions and when to back off, etc. I have a whole thing abt how their developing relationship can be incredibly mutually beneficial but Yanno that’s for the next bulletpoint 👌 basically Kenny could be someone Stan can explore himself with, and not be pressured

And then there’s Stan’s gender identity which I also Love. I love nb Stan. Just in the kind of nb where he doesn’t want to give himself a specific label, he just wants to Be Himself, whatever that means. I hc Stan as primarily male-aligned nb, in that he’s most comfortable with being a guy or being perceived as a guy and generally presenting masc, but a lot of that is in Stan being more *socially* comfortable presenting that way, instead of him feeling more “like a guy.” I hc Stan to primarily use he/him pronouns but to also be ok w/ she/they depending on the situation. I think Wendy and Kenny would also help him w this, in hc’ing both of them as nb as well (though of course their identities manifest in different ways and they’re comfortable doing different things than Stan)

(Also I love Stan using goth stuff to explore his gender and presentation....using a more feminine name like Raven?? Being able to use nor androgynous ways of dressing?? I lov him sm ;;o;;)

(Plus I have a big hc I love where Stan tries to come out to his parents and he’s bracing for impact for the response and BOTH TIMES his dad STEALS THE SPOTLIGHT bc it’s like “ugh, what is it with kids these days coming up with FAKE TERMS for stuff that’s JUST NORMAL. It’s NORMAL to think about wanting to kiss other guys Stan duh” and Sharon and Stan just. “No....dad....straight men don’t want to kiss other men wtf” and later it’s “ok Stan I believe you about the bisexuality thing but this nonbinary thing?? Again it’s NORMAL!! To feel like a bit of both and want to be seen as a woman sometimes” and Stan’s just pinching his nose again.

He was afraid of becoming his father but. Not like this. Nb bi KINGS)

2) Otp: STENNY!!!!! I love stenny sm. (But I’ll get into that in a bit but first)

S/tendy is also really really cute, but imo it’s the pinnacle of school love. I feel like Stan and Wendy can be good together and genuinely like each other’s company, but I feel like their life goals and ambitions would stray, and they wouldn’t be completely compatible in a way that would be really sustainable as adults. It’s not a bad thing, and I think they could absolutely remain close friends w/o necessarily needing a romantic relationship

Anyways. I adore Stenny. A lot of it again revolves around some development hc stuff I have, mostly in how compatible and mutually beneficial the relationship can be. I like imagining them growing closer and more intimate w each other in a very private kind of way. Like them hanging out one on one, and eventually that evolves into texting, calling, sleeping over w just the two of them, etc, until they have this entire close relationship that’s all their own

And with compatibility, I think both Kenny and Stan are incredibly compassionate, sensitive, thoughtful people who can just sit and enjoy some silence. Unlike Eric and Kyle, who need constant mental stimulation—who need to be DOING things—Stan and Kenny can just...relax. And I think their sensitivity can also lead them to be able to support each other emotionally. Both of them can listen to each other, both of them are capable of having serious conversations and being patient through those conversations, both of them are perceptive and sensitive enough to recognize what the other is feeling and to have some idea of what to do about it. I think they’re both good at knowing how to take care of people (rather than someone like Kyle, who likes taking care of others but doesn’t really know how to do it very well; he’s like his mother in that way, he’s good at obvious stuff like injuries and crying but he can be kinda overbearing, presumptuous, and indelicate abt the quieter stuff but ENOUGH abt Kyle AHJSKDKF)

I think stenny is strong also in how the two can help one another. Kenny is realistic but careful and can provide support for Stan when he’s going through a rough patch. Kenny shows up to Stan’s room in the middle of the night with water and snacks and listens to Stan rant or just *is there* to show Stan he’s not alone. Kenny answers Stan’s 2am texts when Stan can’t sleep and stays on the phone with him all night to keep him company

And Stan is earnest in how much he cares abt his friends and would just...really easily show he cares w/o any judgement. Stan saves seats for Kenny, sends him “be safe!” texts when Ken goes home, offers his bed and his home to Kenny and Karen when they need a place to stay, and it never has an air of pity or self-righteousness about it—it’s just Stan genuinely being nice. And that kind of attention and care is a breath of fresh air for Ken, whos usually forgotten

And both of them are just. They’re a shoulder to cry on, or a pillar to lean against. And that’s smth they need—Stan to feel listened to, Kenny bc he takes on so much stress. They can be a rock for each other.

3) brotp: I love Stan making friends honestly ;;o;;

like I said in my kyle analysis I love the super best friends a lot ;;o;; they really care abt each other and don’t want to lose each other which is really nice. I just...love them being best friends + brotherly towards each other

But I also like Stan making friends outside of the m4—with the girls or the goth kids or even with someone like Tweek. (Though I cant really see him hanging out w “Craig’s gang” mostly bc there’s this air of exclusivity w the “groups,” like an established dynamic that no one really likes to cross, bc they’ve all jus Known each other for so long and have solidified those groups + dynamics—though I can see him also befriending the individual members of Craig’s gang, esp token or jimmy)

His friendship w the goth kids means a lot to me HONESTLY I love the idea of them remaining friends bc they vibe together well—esp when they get a better hang of mental health stuff, and they can talk abt gender and coping mechanisms and cool movies they’ve watched ;;o;; i think being with the goth kids could be a really important part of Stan forming his personal identity and while I don’t think they’d be *best friends* I can still see them as ppl he’d invite to his parties or to the movies and stuff

4) notp: s...st/yle, bc like I said in my kyle analysis I just. Can’t see it. I think kyle hurts Stan too much and that they need to work on their friendship, and that they’re much more compatible as friends than as anything else. I much much prefer a brotherly relationship where they’d feel weird even thinking about kissing each other lol

My other notps for Stan are less about me not liking the ship and more abt me like. Not wanting the characters w anyone else but who I already ship them with. I don’t like Stan with Craig or Tweek bc I can’t see those two w anyone but each other, for example. (Plus I have a lotta hc’s abt craig and his feelings for Tweek ;;o;; craig is a one man kinda guy lmao)

Though I do think Stan is extremely compatible with lots of characters. Idk why ppl ship Kyle w everyone when I don’t think kyle is v compatible with ppl—Stan is def someone who could date like. Just abt anyone. I don’t like Stan ships that aren’t stenny or st/endy but I can at least understand them. Stan is just really nice and approachable and can get along w a lotta people

5) First hc I think of: oh I love the hc that Stan sometimes writes his own music, but he’s kinda shy abt his voice so he doesn’t sing very often.

Or hc that he has a bit of a “dad bod” when he gets older. And the chubbier he is, the happier and more relaxed he is ;;o;; (Bc if Stan is too aware of his body and trying to work out to get the “perfect” figure, he’ll stress over it)

Or Stan growing up to breed service dogs ;;o;; (thank u magnus burnsides for this PERFECT idea)

6) how I relate to this character: I’ve kinda incorporated my own gender stuff into my interpretation of Stan (though I relate more to my gender-interpretation of Kenny)

But I think.....hm. It’s kinda hard to pick out a way I relate to Stan bc I’m so invested in seeing him grow and develop it doesn’t feel like it relates to me. Probably tho I relate to his weird balance of loyalty vs exasperation. Stan loves his friends and family and will do a lot for them. But my god. Sometimes they’re all so stupid. Randy being randy is obvious but remember when Kyle had a breakdown over the fucking Facebook farm game?? Stan is so tired

7) what gives me secondhand embarrassment abt Stan: uhhhh hm. Well, sometimes he’s kinda ignorant and goes along w what everyone else is doing, but honestly I don’t really cringe over Stan. He’s learning and trying and I can’t really fault him for that so much

8) cinnamon roll or problematic fave: cinnamon roll ;;o;; Stan is someone who’s usually pretty genuine and I love his role as the “straight man” in a lot of the stories. He’s been through a lot but I want him to just...be happy ;;o;; I love portrayals of Stan where he can be happy?? Like yeah he can be a cynic but he’s also really compassionate and I jus ;;o;;

[medi-melancholy]

i’ve been really coming to terms the past few months about my relationship with gender identity and i want to put some of my thoughts on paper. this is is very steam of consciousness so it’ll probably be repetitive or incoherent, but i want to talk about it openly. I PROMISE I’M OK LMAO i just wanna chat to myself

anyone who knows me knows i love dolls. hell, i’m dollkin, of course. and a big part of why i identify with dolls so much is because of physical reasons. a doll can be physically neutral without any sexual characteristics, yet perceived as leaning more towards a certain gender based on how they’re dressed. a ‘girl’ doll may wear dresses and bows and such, but has no true physical gender. if that ‘girl’ doll wanted to, they could be dressed more like a ‘boy’, or stay completely neutral perception-wise. hell, they could wear dresses and bows and skirts and be identified as a boy or as having no gender, in spite of traditionally ‘feminine’ clothing.

i LOVE that. that’s like... an ideal situation to me.

i think another reason i identify so much with the lack of physical gender/sexual traits the vast majority of dolls possess is because i’m asexual and quite sex-repulsed. the thought of ever being around a naked person makes me sick, because i just reeeally don’t want to see any of those parts. i don’t even like seeing my own parts most of the time. i just want to be... nothing.

a lot of my hatred for parts of my body likely relates to my struggles with disordered eating and chronic illness, but that’s an issue for another time.

i would love to have the ability to be neutrally gendered by default. i technically can be if i want to! but because i have ‘female’ physical characteristics, people will pretty much always automatically assume that i am female. i understand it’s an issue to say something like... “having a chest and hips = female!” because that’s absolutely not true, i understand that. but to someone who desires to fit society’s view of what is female, having those characteristics is valuable. yknow?? so it’s not like... an entirely bad concept, if it helps someone be more comfortable and happy with who they are.

by that same token, i bind (safely!) every now and then because i want to be lacking in those physical characteristics, and therefore hopefully perceived as more neutral. hell, i’ve crossdressed before and presented as male for historical reenactment purposes, and i LOVE IT. i love having the freedom to control my gender. it feels so good.

it was easier when i was younger, when i wasn’t curvy. when i kept my hair very short due to abuse, and could easily pass as ‘male’.

these days i spend a lot of time dressed as a stormtrooper or a tie fighter pilot, neutral costumes with helmets with conceal my gender. i cherish the moments i have in those sorts of costumes, largely in part because in those moments it’s not my gender that matters but instead the children i bring joy to, but i digress. there’s certainly a theme with my feelings, though.

i end up feeling most comfortable cosplaying characters of unconventional gender presentation, i’ve noticed.

i had my phase around middle school where i hated the color pink, i hated traditionally feminine things, i never wore skirts or dresses, i wanted the color blue, i wanted pants. i felt weird and out of place trying to fit into ‘girly’ roles. it’s weird to think i was ever in that place, considering my interests now, but it sure did happen. i think a lot of this time might relate to me coming to terms with my sexuality--being asexual, and the struggles of having sexual characteristics--and also realizing i really REALLY like girls. my subconscious thought process might’ve been something like, “boys like girls, and i like girls, so maybe i should be more like a boy?”

i grew up, thank god, in a household that didn’t force me into playing house, playing with dolls, all that stuff. i was welcome to play with whatever toys i wanted, watch whatever shows appealed to me, listen to whatever music i liked. so, i had both barbies and transformers, i had bratz and star wars, i had a mix of ‘girly’ and ‘boyish’ music and movies i enjoyed. i was certainly bullied for this, harshly so, but i’m eternally thankful that my parents have been accepting of me ever since day 1.

for many years i’ve had trouble identifying with being afab, with being a girl, because of my body. i have a hormone imbalance of some sort that does fucked up things to my mind and body, and i suspect i have some sort of issue with, well, the girly internal hardware too, but i’ve been horrified to go to a specialist about that sort of thing because i HATE talking about... those parts, it’s making me feel sick right now. i don’t want anyone looking around down there, EVER.

anyways, my hair grows in absurdly fast and absurdly thick, everywhere, even before i felt pressured to start shaving as a kid. my legs, arms, pits,eyebrows, just everywhere. even my face, i do have to shave my face. it’s... invalidating, i guess, of my supposed ‘womanhood’, so i find myself having trouble calling myself a real girl. i know hair is a natural thing, and i NEVER ever judge other people for it, but i do judge myself.

i’ve often described my feelings as... i want to be a girl, i know on some level that i am a girl. but i’m physically NOT a girl, and i only want to strive for feminine physical traits in some ways, not in others.

it’s a very weird, depersonalizing feeling, considering i’m afab.

there’s also the fact i’m like 6 feet tall, that’s certainly not a ‘girl’ trait. “no one will dance with a tall girl”, the saying goes. i’m leggy and gangly and weird. and somehow curvy at the same time. i look like a joke lol

i wanna mention that i had a phase in high school where if any of my friends asked me what my gender was, i’d just pull up a clip of a la cucaracha horn. that’s still such a huge mood.

ever since i was a kid, i’ve found myself drawn to characters who are androgynous or don’t conform to typical gender presentation, and i’ve never really known why. i figured, maybe that’s my idea of beauty or something? i hate to word it like this but i like... really found myself attached to male characters that presented femininely, or dressed as such, or wear lots of makeup, and i still feel that way? that just feels so safe, so comfortable, so real to me. that’s reflected in my IDs/kintypes too, i really really relate to gender neutral characters, or characters who are ‘supposed to’ be masculine but are feminine instead, or any combination, just... nontypical displays of gender.

it feels so suitable to what i want in life, i think. the same feeling i want to achieve.

funny that pretty much every single character i identify with is a doll/puppet or related to them in some way, too, huh? it all sorta connects, i guess. i value the nonhuman trait of having no definitive physical gender, i guess?

i’ve had people suggest to me before that i’m a demigirl, maybe, but that never felt right. i’ve had people say “hey, sounds like you’re nonbinary” but i just... don’t feel right with that term? just for me personally.

it’s almost like i don’t want to label my gender. it feels so vague, so indistinguishable.

girl a little bit to the left. girl flavored la croix. the tape outline of a corpse at a crime scene, and the corpse happened to be a girl. hint of hint of girl. i don’t feel that all the time, though. sometimes i just feel.. an absence of gender. no gender but with vaguely feminine traits.

at the same time, i worry myself about identifying as a lesbian. i’m only interested in dating people who identify as female, that’s who i end up attracted to. i want a girlfriend, i want a wife.

but if i’m not entirely a girl myself, can i still call myself a lesbian?

well, i’ve never judged or policed other people, so why the fuck am i judging myself? we really are our own worst critics.

anyways, within my close circle of friend-family, i’ve been going by they/them for a while and also neutral terms, for the most part. it feels good, it feels comfortable. it’s not something i’m gonna want 24/7, but sometimes that’s how i’m feeling so that’s the terminology i should use. makes sense, feels good.

i can still be a sister, a daughter, a girlfriend. but i can be a sibling, a datefriend, too. i can use she/her and they/them at the same time, or whenever i’m feeling one over the other

the closest word i’ve found for how i feel is gender nonconforming, but i still don’t want to put a label on myself in this case.

i just wanted to get this off my chest. or... get my chest off. it’s complicated.

you can call me sarah, you can call me medi, you can call me a person who is a girl, a person who’s sort of a girl but sorta not. i dunno. i’m just me.

i thought i had all my identify stuff figured out but these past few months have been Whew

shoutout to my friends for always being so supportive and loving, yall are the best. 

and uhhhhhh thanks for reading, sorry for getting so real all of a sudden.

this may have been brought on because i have a new doll kintype whose gender is a fuck and i was like shit, that’s me, huh!

[auroraborus]

Warning: Mention of dysphoria, self harm

Sexuality and gender are confusing. Even after years wearing one label you may find it's not quite right, other times you have to face the fact that you don't conform to the "standard." I've recently realized- Or more accurately; admitted- That I am not cisgender. As I have mentioned before, I've been closeted to all but a few people my whole life. Sexual orientation (or lack thereof) was loud and demanded to be dealt with, but I feel like gender was quieter.

We live in a society where gender isn't questioned. We don't sit around and talk about our genders like we talk about sexual orientation. If the default for sexuality is to assume straight until proven otherwise, this is ten times more true for gender. It's not just that we don't talk about it, we actively avoid questioning it or bringing it up.

I'm reminded in this thread of a trip my family took to Key West in Florida, USA. Key West is famous for its nightlife, music, and most of all; drag queens. Cross-dressing is so prevalent in Key West that it almost becomes more of the norm than the minority at night. My parents took me on a walk down main street and I saw many new and exciting things. Women wore whatever they wanted, some barely anything at all. Men openly wore skirts and dresses, often decked out with heals and make-up even when they weren't in full drag. All through this wonderful experience, however, I remember my mom reminding me over and over "These are just men having a good time. Some are role playing as characters who will sometimes hit on guys, but most of them are actually straight. Even if they wear dresses and big earrings they are still men." In the words of John Mulaney, we don't have time to unpack all of that. 

What I'm getting at here was the strict reminders and clear message that even when men did feminine things, they were still men.  (If only she had this stance of trans men) At no point should you question their gender or sexuality even if they were making it clear they didn't fall into the heteronormative societal roles. I'm also reminded of a crossplaying panel I attended hosted by an AFAB non-binary cosplayer. They mentioned that even wearing a full beard people would still refer to them with she/her pronouns. People stuck to the role that they thought they belonged in, even with an obvious outward sign that they were nonconforming. Both of these are examples of this unwillingness to open the discussion at all. People are so afraid of stepping outside of the binary structure as they understand it they will willingly misgender a person.

With a society that works to ignore binary-non-conformity I feel like gender exploration becomes taboo. It was much easier to ignore my own discomfort than confront it, especially when I had no idea what else there was. Experimenting with labels and pronouns is really only possible anonymously online until you are pretty sure of your place, and when you are ready to bring it up it's a big deal. The fear of people saying your feelings and experiences are "just a phase" can make it really scary to experiment in case the label or pronouns don't fit.

What the hell is actually wrong with phases, anyway? Sure you are going to grow out of them, but that's natural. You can't teleport from point A to point Z, there are a lot of places to go through in between. I had a phase of being a child, but I became an adolescent and eventually an adult. (by age at least) If I tried to buy alcohol with an underage ID it wouldn't be legal, even though my age is just a phase. See, we need phases to grow. Everything has phases. Until we as a society accept that; experimentation is going to remain terrifying.

So here I am. Living on my own. Out from under the roof that forced me to stay closeted, but rather than feeling free I felt more trapped than ever. It was like loosening the lid on a shaken soda, more space just increased the pressure. It wasn't the first time I had experienced dysphoria, but it certainly was the worst. There was one day where I couldn't manage to put on clothes for hours since my entire wardrobe reeked of binarism. I wanted to cut my hair off, all of it at once. I wanted to cut myself. Suddenly the quiet discomfort that had been growing inside of me for years was very loud and very present. I was forced to use introspection, something I had procrastinated for far too long.

Why, though? Why did I avoid confronting the topic until it became life-threatening? It's not that I am afraid of LGBTQIA+ topics, I already went on the whole journey of realizing I was asexual homo-romantic, which is definitely not one of the garden variety labels. I have many friends who are trans and/or non-binary, as well, so it's not like I was unfamiliar with the subject. I think it really boiled down to two problems, one internal and the other external. 

First, I didn't feel like I deserved to have a "special" identity, basically I told myself I was close enough to Cis to deal and therefore didn't need to make my problems other people's problems by talking about them. Dumb, I know, but this type of thought process happens when you struggle with anxiety and self-hatred.

Second, and possibly more importantly; I was afraid to go outside of my gender box. I was scared that other people would call me a snowflake. I rationalized that I would never pass as anything other than my assigned gender, and I reasoned that my family would be confused and disappointed in me if they found out. The same reasons I struggled with my Ace label, but with a new and fabulous seasoning of "my gender identity doesn't actually affect my life that much." The hypothesis obviously being disproven by my own mental health problems.

I thank God that I do have supportive and accepting friends, but my main concern after finally admitting my gender situation to myself was still "am I confident enough in this to tell other people? Could it be a phase?" Sexuality is hard and gender is confusing. The lack of ability to comfortably experiment is what makes self-exploration so frightening.

You would be bored to tears if I detailed the amount of research I had to do just to find reliable information on gender labels. This not mentioning the self-reflection required to determine how long I had felt disenchanted with binarism and what parts of my identity were direct results of my Asexuality. It took a lot of painful time. Painful? Yes. I felt anguished, out of place. You can wear shoes that are the wrong size for a short amount of time but if you wore them all day they would start to hurt badly. Longer than that and they would reach the point where they were unbearable to wear and you were unable to walk. I had reached that point, and I couldn’t wait to slip into a better fit. The more shoes I looked at, though, the more I thought about my aching feet, and the worse I felt.

Alright, alright. I have danced around it for a long time, I'm sure you are dying to know what shoe- I mean gender- I picked. To continue using the dead analogy with the shoes I realized I was better off barefoot. The only labels that felt okay were genderqueer and agender, agender being the more comfortable of the two. 

I honestly don't know at this point if that's always how I will identify. Also, the finer details of pronouns and names are difficult. I like my name, it's not my fault it belongs to an arbitrary binary system where certain syllable combinations are code for which genitals I had at birth and are associated with assumptions about my gender, personality, and upbringing. Pronouns are weird, too; at the moment I'm just going with whatever people assume since I have no kinship with any particular set, however, this still feels uncomfortable. Gender is an adventure just like everything else in life, and I haven't reached the story goal just yet.

Sexuality and gender are still confusing, but I think healthy exploration and education can really improve the experience. I don't know right now if my labels are permanent, but that's okay. Everything has phases, even the moon, and everything has ebb and flow, even the ocean. I'm learning to accept myself a little more all the time.

[dietaku]

Amazing Quest 1: Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Heart of a Pudding

(You find yourself exactly where Chapter 6 left off, with Kord mumbling to himself about his incompetent peers)

Hiro: So, are we cool, or....

Kord: Oh, yeah, man, we're the best of buds!

(Kord gives him a slap on the back that sends him flying)

Kord: Oh, uh....HAHA! TAKE THAT!

(He does the same to the rest of the party)

Kord: Ha! No one's the wiser! Kord, my man, you are one smooth operator!

You land nearby a gigantic looming tower with a unique sprite and a large city. Welcome to Gemadne, and ironically, this is only about 2 screens northeast of where you were! Yeah, you could've walked here in five minutes, even if you factored in the random encounters.

--Gemadne, the City of the Dark Puddings--

This place is gloomy and not at all enheartening. The locals mention how the winters are cold, and that food is stale and tasteless, being grown on the irradiated plains nearby. If you talk to an elderly man in the pub, he mentions how in ancient times, a battle between two goddesses warped the land and caused their current misfortune, but considering this is next to a clown doing a juggling act who yells “KATZU BICYCLE SOUP!”, you can take that for what it's worth. However, you need to go to the large dome on the northeast side.

(Man in a robe): Hey, you guys are new....and that scar! You must be the ones.

Hiro: Are you going to fight us?

Man: Naw. I'm on your side. Kind of. You can call me House Man (No, seriously. This is his name in Japanese as well. His name was translated into German as Hausen Mensch, and, the series director liked it so much, she kept that as his name. And now that I've sufficiently raised the blood pressure of veteran AQ players...) So, you want to challenge Zoddon? He's tough and wise, but you can do it. However, I'd recommend going in here first. You'll need this, though (He hands Hiro the PAPER)

Hiro: Is this just a piece of paper?

House Man: NO! It's PAPER

Hiro: Ooooooh.

In any case, head over to the door, where a guard awaits us. With the PAPER, we can now pass, lest the guard turn us away for being unqualified.

Guard: Papers, please.

Hiro: (Presents PAPER)

Guard: Ooh, nice!

Hiro: Eh?

(Hiro looks at the PAPER, and realized there's a picture of a woman's butt on the other side)

Moore: Nice!

Loyroll: Eeeeeh.

Hiro: I...I'll be going now.

Welcome to the Pudding Shrine

--Pudding Shrine--

This area is a stark marble building, with robed monks and nuns slowly processing through. Don't attack them (You get the option if you talk to them), as they do nothing but pray as you hack them down, and really, it's not worth it, as they give pittances of gold and exp. Continue on, and you'll see various portraits of apparently famous people, and on the west side, you can see a trio of large statues, one of Zoddon, one of Jaydea, and the third being a woman whose face is cracked and marred, making it unrecognizable. On the east side, you find a giant slab titled the “Wall of Memory, and all the Dark Puddings you killed are marked here. However, as soon as you stop reading it...

Armored man with flared eyebrows: Impressive, is it not?

Armored woman with a flash of white in her green hair: The Light Pudding, so weak with his P-Centage, and yet he has bested five of our siblings.

Man: PRAETORIAN LAA

Woman: PRAETORIAN TII

Laa: These halls, where the ghosts of our comrades cry out, is a fitting locale for our duel. Now, draw your weapon. You must answer to your ancestors!

Tii: Say your prayers to the finest of Zoddon's Praetorians, Light Pudding!

Hiro: Who are you guys again?

Laa: LET US DO RIGHTEOUS BATTLE!

Hiro: Seriously! Did you listen?

Kimyawa: Hiro-nii-chan, they just introduced themse--

Tii: AAAAARGH!

Loyroll: Let it go, sis

Hiro: HIYAAAAAAAAH!

Kimyawa: S-sumimasen...

--Boss Fight!--

Praetorian Laa x1

Praetorian Tii x1

Laa

LP: 36000

MP: 3500

Tii

LP: 36000

MP: 3500

You're probably thinking, “Oh, these two won't be so hard. None of the other Praetorians were that hard. HAHAHAHAHA....HA.  No. These guys don't let up. Laa begins the fight by “Flaring up a Storm,” and then casting 'Storm Shield, that cuts all physical damage by half. This includes Pudding Forms. Tii, on the other hand, will begin by engaging her Pudding Form, and attacking with “Frozen Custard Tart” which inflicts water damage and also has a good chance of Depression. As if this weren't bad enough, when you defeat one, the other will “Steel their brow” and then being to use “Pudding Braver,” a move that hits all party members for large water and air damage. Press on, and you can do it!

--Boss Fight!--

Laa: Urgh, e-even with our combined power....

Tii: I'm s-sorry, my siblings....

Laa and Tii: (Explodes)

Hiro: Just like the others, they all are willing to sacrifice themselves for Zoddon's ambition. C'mon! We need to stop him.

Ozma: YEAH!

Kimyawa: HAI!

Loyroll: Hear, hear!

Mancala: Yeah, whatever!

Deima: C'mon, then!

Hiro: YEAH, I...

(Hiro hears a squeaky noise he hasn't heard since--)

Hiro: WAIT!

You then have to search around for the noise, and cannot leave as Hiro cites “This is super important,” the source of the noise is the upper right corner of the room. Inspecting it now will open a hidden door. Go down the stairs to enter a caged room where someone we haven't seen in over thirty hours now is sitting.

Hiro: EMILIA! YOU'RE ALIVE?!

Emilia: Oh, hey, I thought you were the guard. They gave me tacos last night, and YECH, my bucket needs to be changed.

Hiro: I WAS SO WORRIED, AND—Oooh, urgh, yeah, you're right.

Emilia: Sorry. Who are all these people?

Hiro: These are my friends! We're here to save you and stop the Dark Puddings!

Emilia: Stop them? You?

(A clanking noise begins as a feminine robot appears)

Robot: YES, HOW AMUSING, STOPPING THE DARK PUDDINGS. TIME FOR YOUR DAILY MEAL AND BATH, EMILIA, AND FOR ME TO TAKE OUT THE RUBBISH!

--Boss Fight!--

Nannydroid x1

LP: 43000

MP: 4500

After the Praetorians, this is nothing, She's fond of “Hell Duster” a hit-all earth based move, and “Take out the Trash,” a move which can instantly kill one party member while inflicting Drunk on another, both of which are randomly selected, but she isn't too tough.

--Boss Fight!--

Emilia: Anyways, You...You came for me. I thought you were going to curl up into a ball and Ladd or Lady would come, but you...I'm proud of you, bro! And, you also got yourself some nice friends.

(Turns to the party) Look, I see where you all are coming from, but he's emotional and  naive. If ANY of you break his heart...No monster, devil or sealed ancient death goddess will stop me from tracking you down. GOT IT?

Party: ….

Nannydroid: M-must take out trash. Executing final cleansing routine

(She explodes, vaporizing the entire building, leaving the party in the rubble of Emilia's cell, with Emilia huddled behind a wall.)

You then can talk to her, where in Japanese, she'll complain of a draft. In the Localized version, she yells at you for not having stopped the Nannydroid from self-destructing. You see, the blast very clearly blew Emilia's pants off, even in the Localized version.

Emilia: Goddammit! Hiro! You can't leave me like this!

Hiro: I'M SORRY!

Emilia: I'm staying RIGHT HERE until you fix this!

Now, the trick to rescuing her, and making her playable is not what you'd imagine. The canny among you would scour the globe for “Pants” armors or items. The amusing thing is, the solution is right in front of you. You know, how you pay Loyroll to use better swords? Well, if you get to his tenth sword, the Plasmium Blade, you get the option of upgrading again. If you do so, he'll upgrade to Emilia's Saber, that energy saber Emilia used in the opening fight. How Loyroll came across this, we'll never know. However, if Loyroll has it, and you talk to Emilia...

Emilia: Oh, hey, one of your girlfriends has my sword, give it here!

Loyroll: My dear lady, I'm a ma--

Emilia: Yeah, sure, whatever, toots (Steals the sword out of Loyroll's hands) I'm pretty sure I've kissed girls more manly than you.

Hiro: Wait, WHAT?

Emilia: What happens in Girl Pudding Summer camp STAYS in Girl Pudding Summer Camp!

And with that, Emilia leaves her wall, and joins the party! Yes, she wasn't complaining about her lack of pants, but her lack of a weapon. Go fig. Anyways, you now can explore the ruins of the Pudding Shrine, where if you go near where the three statues were, the one with the broken face is still mysteriously intact. Go behind it, to go down a hidden flight of stairs, where you'll find a blue-haired woman in a robe.

Woman: Halt? Who dares challenge the wielder of the power of....Emilia? Hiro?

Emilia: Wait, MOM?

Hiro: I...I thought you died?

Mom: No, I was taken here by those damnable brats years ago. However, they couldn't kill me. So, they locked me up here! However, I can see it in your eyes. Your quest of vengeance! Very well, if you wish to wield my power, you must battle me!

Emilia: Hiro! This is it! We must fight as one!

Hiro: R-right?

--Boss Fight!--

Saint Cocoa x1

LP: 50000

MP: 6000

You only get Emilia and Hiro for this fight, but that's all you need, if you're smart. If you proceed with brute force, you'll get destroyed, as Cocoa will engage her Pudding Form, and more or less go Super Saiyan. She'll blast you with “Pudding Stream” a powerful magic attack that ignores magic defense, and “Rich Flavor” which will raise all her stats based on the last digit of your gold. Yes, YOUR amount of money powers up Cocoa. When she gets down to half health, she'll begin abusing “Cut your teeth,” a move where she randomly punches the party ten times for physical damage. This can be dangerous, especially if she focuses on Hiro. However, if you are strategic, and abuse Emilia's Steam Breath in her Pease Pudding form, you can win!

--Boss Fight!--

Mom: Emilia, Hiro. I-I'm so glad I could see you before I pass on...You are both members of the Royal Pudding Line, and within you is the power of [Golden Choco Majesty]. Realize it within yourselves, and it will be you's! Now, with that, farewell...

(Mom collapses, dead)

House Man: (Claps) Excellent! I knew you could do it! Now, you can fight Zoddon on even terms!

Hiro: Uh, thanks?

You can now proceed to Gemadne Keep. Well, you could do so before, perhaps advisable, to acquaint yourself with Emilia's skill set, but you would be hard pressed to be able to beat Zoddon as you were.

--Gemadne Keep--

This gigantic fortress is just as gloomy as the town it stands before, with “Dark Pudding Veterans, Dark Pudding Survivors, and Dark Pudding Centurions,” all as common enemies. Funnily enough, the GBA version retains an amusing programming error, where a certain corner of the third floor has a tile which always queues up a battle with three Veterans and a single Dark Pudding Rookie, the kind that you'd fight in Ddimopint, way back in the first section of the game. The fans loved him so much, he shows up as an Easter egg in various places in later AQ remakes,  known as Dark Survivor Zechs.

Returning to important matters, the trick of Gemadne Keep is the elevators, as each goes to only certain floors and you need to find the right ones to proceed. Basically, my best advice is to go left to right as far as you can, and those elevators will be the ones you need to use to proceed.  When you get to a single large room, you're where you need to be.

Zoddon: (Sitting in a large throne) Light Pudding. You arrived. I am genuinely impressed. You have a cut a path through my subordinates for your own ambition. However! Your burning passion and my own can not coexist in this world! Whose will be doused?

Emilia: OH MY LULZ! SHUT UP, ZODDON!

Zoddon: Hm? And the Sword God has been freed? You are a truly implacable man. Very Well! Steel Yourself, Light Pudding!

--Boss Fight!--

Dark Pudding Lord Zoddon x1

LP: 75000

MP: 5500

Zoddon, is, understandably, the hardest boss up to this point, as his LP count might indicate here. He will engage his “Noble Pistachio Pudding Form,”  and then begin his assault. He is fond of using 'Burning Ambition,” a move which inflicts heavy fire damage on one target, and “Towering Presence,” an earth move which deals heavy damage to one target and deals splash damage to adjacent party members. He also rarely will raise his sword. Be wary, as his next action will be the devastating “Pudding Grande Destroy” or in Japanese “Boddhisattva Pudding Ignorance Cleaver,” which deals a huge amount of Light-based damage. My best advice is to use Emilia's “GET BACK” action, which causes all non-Puddings to flee, which might seem bizarre until you see what the Golden Choco Swirl does. It is an androgynous, golden figure with glowing aura and flashing eyes. It screams in an auto-tuned voice with each attack, and has a chance of doing either “Pudding Slice,” a single physical move, “Golden Slam,” a powerful light elemented magic attack, or “Golden Aura Slice,” a physical move which hits all enemies and induces Depression. If you can land one of thees, then you'll most likely be pleasantly surprised to see it shave off 9999 damage off of Zoddon.

“Great,” I hear you say,” Why don't I use this swirl all the time?” because this form is berserk. You can't chose who you hit, and many times, Hiro will take his time blowing away his own friends, drunk on the massive influx of power the fusion with his sister provides.

So, yeah, now you see why I don't recommend doing this fight with everyone around.

--Boss Fight!--

Zoddon: (Clutches his bleeding chest) I...I see. Your will is stronger. Listen to this man's final words, Light Pudding. Light, Dark. These aren't Good or Evil. Nor are they families. They are your Will. Go now, Go with my sister, and forge a world where Puddings rule. We have been trampled countless times in the past, and yet we are the strongest clan on the planet. Your mother aided us, once. We worked together to build this place and free others from the Golden Tribe. With you and Emilia, now, we could wipe away all the chaos and produce a world free of strife. Be that man....

(Zoddon collapses)

Emilia: Goodbye, Zoddon.

Ozma: Is this it? Did we win?

(Jaydea runs in, a look of pure shock on her face)

Jaydea: ZODDON! ZODDON! ANSWER ME! THEY....They killed you!

Hiro: Give it up, Jaydea! Your brother wanted us to work together! Listen to his request! You can't win!

Jaydea: Oh? Do you know what I need to unlock the Goddess?

Emilia: The blood of a Royal Pudding and the Five Talismans, right?

Hiro: And we have three of them!

Jaydea: Hehehehe, correct. And, well, you're wrong, too. Y'see...Do you remember when I let you borrow my razor?

Emilia: Yeah, I cut my le—Oooooh, you bitch....

Jaydea: Yup! And on top of that? Remember that one weekend at Girl Pudding Summer Camp?

Emilia: You bitch, you promised we'd never speak about tha--

Jaydea: (Produces a walkman with a microphone) “I'm lonely. I miss my little brother, and I'm cold, could I sleep with YOU?” Do you want me to continue? If so, I can. If not, give me the Talismans.

(Emilia, face beet red, rummages in her backpack, producing the Talismans as the Party can only look on in shock)

Jaydea: Thank you! (Warps away)

Hiro: (In a squeaky voice) Sister....WHY???

Kimyawa: BAKA BAKA BAKA! WE'RE ALL DEAD NOW!

Mancala: I wonder if I can get a coffin sale going?

Deima: Relax, we can still win! It takes a while to unlock Halst, and she needs to GET to the seal first!

Hiro: Where IS that?

Deima: The Tower of Zyrtroph, the Flying Dragonfish.

(You might have seen a giant floating...thing out in the middle of the ocean. THAT is where the seal is. However, we're going to ignore that in Chapter 8 as we do a roundup of ALL the remaining side missions and fetch quests available.! See you then!)

[melancholic-cloud]

Let’s Face It, She Deserved That | Sachiko | Chapter 4 Trial | RE: ＥＶＥＲＹＴＨＩＮＧ

A few seconds seemed like such an agonizingly long eternity, staring the fencer down, challenging him to prove his innocence or confirm his involvement. For those brief moments, she may have even seemed smug about having struck such a nerve. But, while her wit may have been quick, her reflexes were considerably less so. By the time she’d begun to understand what was coming her way, it was already far too late to even consider trying to avoid it. That wasn’t enough warning. There was always warning. It hit her fast, hard, and all but narrowly missed sending her across the room. For all the shit Sachiko typically talked, not even in VR had she bothered with any sort of athleticism or physical strength. Normally she might have been ready to at least brace herself, but her arrogance and perhaps brief sense of superiority had left her completely unprepared to handle that. They’d argued before and nothing like that came of it. For several moments, the sheer shock and disorientation from the blow left her not entirely certain if that had really and truly just happened or not.

The pain blooming from where she’d been struck shortly after confirmed that either it had happened, or she was simply so overcome with emotion from relief that her cool new bestest buddy Matsuo was innocent that she slammed herself into a wall headfirst and fabricated the last five or so seconds so she would not have to remember having positive feelings for someone. The former was infinitely more plausible. A combination of wide-eyed, seething anger with just the faintest trace of barely-repressed fear crossed her face, almost seeming outraged that Matsuo had the audacity to strike her like that. She didn’t feel that it was warranted at all, unlike me and Chula and that’s it since everyone else still likes her for some reason. It was also around this time that, raising a hand to her face almost subconsciously, that she realized her nose was, in fact, bleeding. Nothing she’d never experienced before, but a royal pain in the ass nonetheless, especially with so much left to say and do.

Wordlessly, she absentmindedly wiped some of it away with her bare hand with about as much dignity as one can do that with, sparing Seiichi a glance - her glare was less directed at him but she was pissed enough that her tone was quite a lot sharper than she intended as she hissed that she was “Fine.” And then, back to Matsuo, trying to dig further into his entire being with nothing more than a scathing look. She wanted him to feel uncomfortable, wanted him to know damn well that she wasn’t going to let up now, that he had FUCKED UP. No matter how much that small, nagging part of her just wanted to give in and cry, no matter how desperately she just wanted it to be over, how badly she wished she could leave... someone had to be the asshole on behalf of several others, and that was where she excelled. With an unusually chill calm (even for her) to her voice, sharp edge still rather present, she did her damndest to look him in the eyes while she spoke. “Do you know what happened to the last man who thought he could hurt me like that, Krupin-san?” Of course he didn’t. No one knew except for Michi, and even that had been… embellished, somewhat. She’d probably regret letting herself get so caught up in this sort of petty bullshit just seconds after the words left her mouth, but she was, in all fairness, reasonably pissed off at having just been punched. Feelings were no good anyways. So what if someone else’s got hurt in the process of her little inbound tirade? What did that matter to her?

“... Consider yourself lucky if you never find out.” Clearly enough to not go into further detail about it for the sake of time. She’s still very clearly pissed, but trying to hold on to whatever scraps of rationality she can grasp. Going on about that would probably make at least one more person hysterical, and as much as she’d like to really tear into Matsuo for that, it wouldn’t even benefit her. It’s hard to do much of anything with any dignity considering the aftermath of that sweet punch from the same dude she’s still chewing out, but she’s trying her hardest to keep her head held high and figure out getting a tissue or something later. “From how agitated you’re getting over this, I’m sure everyone’s drawn a similar conclusion already. If you’d like to behave like a reasonable person while we finish talking things out, I’m sure everyone would appreciate it. I sincerely doubt there’s anything you could possibly say to exonerate yourself at this point, so maybe you’d like to try to holding on to whatever paltry scraps of dignity you can muster until we’re done? Thanks.” Taking a punch like a someone who’s never been hit in their life and then continuing to be a Mythic Bitch afterwards? Classic Sachiko maneuver. Haha yeah but okay her face was actually starting to really hurt and only her pride was stopping her from asking anyone within two podiums of her if they had anything she could like… use for her nosebleed. Ah well. If it stained, that’d… really suck. But maybe it’d reset back once the whole, ‘yeah alright you fucks finished the murder thing you’re allowed to be uninjured again’ was over with? If not, it’d be a real pain because she very much liked this outfit. Or else so help her, she’d figure out a way to kill Matsuo again. Everyone already knew Matsuo was guilty, but apparently some people were having second thoughts. Annoyed but clearly trying to let go of the more vitriolic feelings she was feeling, she turned to Seiichi. Originally, she was going to be a lot more snarky, but then it occurred to her again that she, Matsuo, and Fran had been the ones to find Ochako’s body in the first place. Even then, they’d gotten sidetracked by Yoshiro’s case, but… well. If the cases really weren’t related, it was possible that at least pretending to be okay about it would get them a lot further.

“... Let’s talk about this some more first.” It was the closest she could muster, considering she was still pretty pissed and a lot worse for wear than she’d expected to be, but it wasn’t an outright ‘no, fuck Matsuo, fuck him for daring to lay his fuckin’ bloodstained hands on me, kill the fucker.’ It’s almost hard to look away from Seiichi, so much pressure weighing down the room that even her hardened heart struggled to take it, but she had no idea how much anyone else had investigated Ochako’s death. She had no idea if they had even found everything. They would need to bring everything they had to the table - collectively - if there was any hope of catching the right trail. Sachiko inhaled, exhaling long and slow and like this was the most dreadful thing in the world to her. Hoshimi’s speculation was... interesting. There was always a possibility that someone another person didn’t like was involved somehow, but frankly, it would probably be better to start laying out some pieces first. “What we’re all fairly sure of, as far as I can tell, is that Senchamoto-san was killed, her body was frozen, and at some point before it would normally lock, brought to the observatory.”

That was probably reasonable enough. If anyone had any qualms with it, by all means they were more than welcome to say so. She had more to add, though, and while it may have partially been conjecture it seemed important to say. “So, I saw a few people while I was eating last night - François was already there when I showed up, Matsuo showed up a little later, and Ren popped in for a bit as well. I’d say that was probably around 11 or so? Anyways. I left after a while, headed to the vending machines. While I was there, I overheard a conversation between two people. Unfortunately, I couldn’t identify exactly who they were from where I was. All that I could distinguish was that one of them had a more masculine voice, which was softer, and the other was feminine - and while I have no definitive proof of this, I believe it’s entirely possible that this was Senchamoto-san.” Words poured from her mouth like blood from her nose, although it was probably a little harder to tell if that was still going or if it was just the blood she’d already bled still staining her face.

“For ease, I will henceforth refer to the feminine voice as Person B and the other as Person A.” Okay, Sachiko, just remember what you heard. Leave the other evidence to the Crying Boys for now, unless it turns out they’re crying too hard and she has to pick up after them later. God she hopes they’re going to be reasonable enough to tell the class what they found. Her annoyance was seeping through just a little bit, because all these emotions and feelings that people were having instead of suppressing until the trial was over were REALLY INCONVENIENT. The gaps in audibility were pretty annoying, and relying on her memory for incomplete conversation no less was strenuous, but if no one else had heard it, then it was absolutely critical to recount it as closely as possible. “Person A had been looking for Person B, for whatever reason. Person B mentioned specializing in… something, likely related to whatever Person A brought up. Person A saw something, said it was probably nothing, mentioned not wanting to bother… probably someone.”

She hadn’t seen anything unusual, but she sure had heard something a little strange.

“Person A said there was something in one of the rooms, speculated that someone was trying to do something, paused, said that rather than someone getting hurt, they’d… check it? A lot of it devolved into inaudible mumbling. Person B stated that they were flattered A came to them for help, I couldn’t hear the next bit, and then they seemed pretty adamant about going to inspect whatever ‘it’ was. Someone or something, apparently, would ‘know how’. Person A seemed to think it might be a waste of B’s time, said some more incoherent stuff, thanked them, said something about looking around - though it seemed they were hiding it from someone.” This was hard. Describing it adequately was hard. She’d just get it out best she could and, hopefully if anyone asked about anything specifically, it would jog her memory better. “Person B said it wasn’t a problem, and that it sounds all... something, help people anyways.” Damned gaps in conversation! It was like listening to someone on the phone in public and being annoyed because only having one side of a conversation is irritating, but with both people on the phone in one spot and STILL only getting half of it!

“A said something I couldn’t make out, paused, said something about ‘Probably go’ and that they would lead something or someone incoherent. Whatever B said after that wasn’t audible either, and I assume they left after that because I didn’t hear anything else.” She exhaled softly, not terribly enthused about the gaps and her imperfect account of events. But, it was what she had. “I apologize for the lack of coherence, but I could not hear the conversation in its entirety. I didn’t happen to see anything that seemed related at the time. But unless someone saw or heard anything to the contrary, I would say it’s entirely possible that Person B was Senchamoto-san. If this is true, it would provide a narrower time frame in which she could have died - and it’s entirely possible as well that whoever she was speaking to, assuming it was her, was somehow involved.” Sachiko tried to sound at least a little more confident than just… tired, but it was probably pretty clear that she was running on the fumes from her backup reserve of fucks to give which had long since been depleted.

[selftranszendence]

FeMale?

I never knew what to do with my femininity.

I know I am not the only one.

Recently those topics have come back with greater force and I am trying to make sense of it all. Actually I have a lot of other shit to do but this, well, issues, they won't let me. They've nested in the back of my head and don't shut up, they are influencing me constantly towards the wrong decisions.

Those include: Unhealthy food choices, 'hyper-masculine' behaviour that leads to over-excersion, inability to cater to myself or to take part in activities I could like but feel like I am not allowed to take part in. I've lost track of what I want, I often feel like a failure, pressured, petrified.

Next thing: No, I am not trans. This is something that bugs me extremely about this website: Feeling uncomfortable with your gender does not mean you are trans, non-binary or whatever. I never doubted that I am a woman – I just hated it. I never thought that I am a man in a woman's body. If you scan my brain, you won't find the brainstructure that makes a person to identify as a man. It's a woman's brain, I share „typical“ feminine qualities, of which I've learned to cherish at least some, as for example high empathy and a knack for diplomacy.

So what is the problem?

I feel like a feminine failure. I never wanted to be „a girl“. I started to associate girls with extremely negative experiences, due to mobbing. Everything girly, like dresses, skirts, hobbies like horse-riding oder ballet became the epitome of evil. I cut my hair short. I took part in aggressive sports. I hated my body when my period started, hated it when fat started building up on my body.

But on the other hand I always wanted to be beautiful, I wanted long, lucious hair, perfect skin, nice clothes, wanted to be all smiles and sweetness.

I never managed to be fully tomboy or girly because none felt right. Sometimes I feel like a fucking ugly woman that feels the need to dress manly in order to appear tough and like she doesn't care. But I do. And I hate that.

Sometimes I want to dress femine but feel like I am in disguise. Recently there was this situation: We were taking familiy photographs (don't get me started on photos) and one was with all women and the photographer asked us to make a ladylike posture. I've seldom felt more uncomfortable in my life. That day I had bad skin, I was tired, I felt like a fat wale and in no way able to act feminine. When I feel ugly I tend to act more manly, and in the process feel less like being ugly is an unforgivable mistake I am personally responsible for. Still there is a numbeness left, a feeling that acutally this is not what I want. But when I act femine I feel like a clown. A man or a butch does not need to be pretty. I tell myself that I have other qualities. That I am smart. But to be honest? I could do so much more if I wasn't criplled by those harmful thougts.

Another thing: I eat so much unhealthy shit. My body doesn't grow fat in the medical sense, but too fat for my liking. I'd like to be tall, without many curves, so I could pass as a sophisticated woman or a pretty boy. But I am rather small, not yet chubby but with heavy, feminine legs. Those hips that are so good to birth the children I never want to have because the thought alone horrifies me. I eat because I am stressed, because I don't like the body I live in and it gets worse with every bite. I'd like to be sportive and lean but I somehow can't start because on the one hand I'd like a fit body with muscle, but than again I'd like to be like a petite dancer, to finally look I girl. And in that case I mean girl, not woman. I want to hide, either between the shell of the soldier-woman, no man wants to touch, or the virgin, he does want to touch but never would, because that would meen to sully us both. 

I want those nights with other girls, where you drink girly drinks, when you go out in pretty dresses and talk about boys. About dancing and beauty secrets. All cliche, I know. Also all things, I forced myself to hate because they made me afraid. Being a girl meant being weak, being superficial. I never understood the power in embracing that. I still struggle with it.

When I hang out with men I feel the need to drink more than them, to be tougher, to show them they can't mess with me. But I also want them to desire me, to charm them, to be the woman they dream of. And then I hate that. That is not what women are here for. Being concerned about being pretty or men liking you is weak.

You get the drift? I want to embrace being a woman, but I can't stop thinking in gender roles.

I can't accept that I can be a mix of both – like most people are. Soemtimes I think those men that say that it is just natural that woman are soft and beautiful are right and that I just don't manage to be a good woman. That I am a failure. I am also very bad at being manly because I associate it with things as physical strength and being good at maths – I am not that strong, I am more of a language person. I am a failure at being masculine. I constantly feel judged, be it by men or women.

Over the last years I did at least manage to stop hating on other girls. I like them a lot, have even more female friends than male friends. I am able to accept a certain interest in make up, clothing and the colour pink on my side. I always combine female and male aspects in my fashion. Sometimes that works for me, sometimes it feels like a lie.

I am stuck. For me there is only the femme fatale or the princess on one side and the tomboy and the butch on the other. Both I think have to be thin and perfect. Uglyness is not allowed in any case, though the beautystandards are different for both sides. I don't manage to fit any of them. I am a nothing in between.

I have no identity disorder. Society has just thouroughly fucked with my brain.