#genderfluid beyond birthday

[shootingsun]

Beyond Birthday headcannons because my post got one note (I have more this is just the ones I can be bothered to write down at the moment)

- He speaks at least 3 languages; Japanese (obviously), English (no shit) and also French because I headcannon that's where he lived before Wammys

- Birthday is on the 1st of December (because 1 + 12 equals 13)

- They saw L exactly 1 Time and went 'holy shit cool gender, HOLY SHIT THATS L-' internally

- Is L his gender presentation inspiration? Yes

- Did Beyond's mother fuck a shinigami? Was it the result of some funky shit happening in the shinigami realm? Was their soul somehow sold to a God of death for the lols? Who knows, they sure as hell don't

- The Akazukin Chacha fixation was not faked, B genuinely has so much love for that manga and will infodump about it at any given time

- He accidentally made Matt cry when he first came to the orphanage. Took one look at Matt and started cackling aggressively at his name

- This got him detention for a month because he couldn't explain why he laughed at the 6 year old

- Walks into doors all the time (is it on accident? Is it on purpose? Who knows!) And just brushes it off, sometimes he doesn't even react to it, just blinks and moves on.

- Staring problem, but this only applies to people who he feels comfortable with/wants to observe. So sometimes they'd be in a room with multiple people having a conversation and nobody will have any clue who they are talking to because he is only looking at one person without blinking

- Bounces very fast between touch repulsed and touch starved

- Hisses at people

- One time he hit another Wammy's kid over the head with a plastic cricket bat because they said his eyeliner was bad (he was 14 and it kinda was bad to be honest)

- Freaked people out unintentionally as a child, genuinely didn't understand why people didn't like him. Then decided as a teenager that if people were gonna think he was weird no matter what he may as well be the most unsettling mf on the planet

- did I mention he's autistic? Yeah he's autistic

- Ginormous clean freak. Will be up at 3am polishing his bookcase and scrubbing the floors because he suddenly decided the room wasn't clean.

- Sometimes he will impulsively clean other people's things depending on if he likes them or not

- If he doesn't like them they are getting MUD AND DIRT poured on their floor

- Genderfluid. Will steal your gender, will also confuse you with said gender

- They're AFAB because I'm projecting

- "are you a boy?" "I mean yes but also no"

- He is definitely on the aromantic spectrum (again projection)

- Once took a pair of classroom scissors and offered to cut people's hair with them (at least 2 people accepted this offer)

[jaskwritesthings]

all eyes on me

Rating: Mature

Summary: Training your wizards is a very serious endeavour that requires a great deal of cunning.

Pairing/s: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast

Tag/s: alternate universe, post-canon, lingerie, strip tease, teasing, flirting, genderfluid molly

Author Note: happy early birthday to the wonderful @glossolali!!! 🎉🎉🎉

“Time for wizards to find their bed,” Molly said in a sing-songy voice he usually reserved for the youngest, most stubborn members of Veth’s camp.

The wizards, in question, were not paying attention to the slightly condescending tone, at all. Caleb hummed distractedly in the briefest acknowledgment that he had been spoken to, his eyes and mind still fixed on the crumpled and singed documents fanned out in front of him and Essek, each scrap of high quality paper holding secrets untouched since the Calamity.

“A few more minutes, Mollymauk,” Essek mumbled, his attention already pulled back towards a spell schematic that had captured his attention for some time now. It was half finished and mostly destroyed, but what he could translate was intriguing.

Once more, Essek cursed the gods for bringing Aeor low, the childish fit of rage that had robbed Exandria of an age of enlightenment and progress. There was so much promise and potential in their work, so much to learn and study, and more than half of what they’d found was turning out to be a test of their abilities to solve puzzles. It was a near endless source of frustration, but also excitement as more and more was revealed to them.

“That’s what you both said an hour ago,” Molly complained, a petulant note to their voice.

“Soon, Schatz,” Caleb placated emptily.

Molly sighed, loud and long, “How terrible…oh well, guess I’ll just have to entertain myself then.” He said in a tone that was too flippant and airy to do anything but set off multiple mental alarms of warning within his partners.

Caleb and Essek shared a knowing look, preparing for whatever mischief their partner had planned, and turned to face Molly. Neither were prepared for the sight waiting for them. Evidently, Molly had been entertaining themselves quite easily for the past hour in preparation for this moment.

The former circus entertainer was leaning against the frame of the door in a way that accented every curve and line of his body artfully, ever the fantastical performer even beyond the tent. Every move measured and designed for maximum effect. And it certainly had an effect on its intended audience.

The thin silken robe was a shimmering gold made of entirely of Caleb’s magic and mind which only added to its allure as it draped beautiful across Molly’s bared purple skin giving the rich darkness a delightful glow. The lacy suspenders and hazy stockings were the same burnt red as Molly’s eyes and only served to frame everything Molly had to offer. The fabric stretched along the length of his strong thighs, built over years of adventuring and performances that now spent many an evening wrapped around each of them tightly, holding them up or close, so very close, to him. Essek could almost feel the phantom heat against his own thighs, it made him shiver with want.

Their thick cock hung temptingly against their leg, peeking around the curtain of silk and beckoning them to come closer for a taste, out of the corner of Essek’s eyes he caught Caleb licking his lips in hungry anticipation.

Delicate golden chains dipped with iridescent jewels dangled from Molly’s pierced nipples, dripping like dew drops against the beautiful lace framed red corset that accented his waist and torso in a way that made them want to follow the lines with their lips and tongues until each path was well-marked and mapped.

Essek felt his mouth go dry as he took in the full work of art before him, and was unsurprised by the quiet Zemnian curse that came from beside him.

Molly pouted theatrically, “and the bed is so cold too.”

Essek whimpered in an undignified manner that he would deny to his dying day, as Caleb chocked on air.

“Bed sounds good,” Caleb said after taking a minute to locate his tongue and the common language once more.

“Does it now?” Molly smirked, twirling against the frame and arching his back in a playful stretch that he couldn’t even pretend was anything less than a show of his attributes, as his tail snapped like a whip through the air.

“Ja, time for bed,” Caleb said dumbly, apparently most of his braincells descending southward. Not that Essek felt all that intelligent in the face of such a wanton siren, Aeorian mages and their breakthroughs seemed so trivial in comparison to the divine being on display before them. The act of worship was far more understandable and reasonable now.

“Quite so, we’ve worked long enough,” Essek agreed quickly.

Molly chuckled as they dropped the act, relaxing into a more comfortable pose, wrapping the robe around their bared body and hiding away all the tantalising skin on offer. Caleb whimpered sadly as Essek felt his own disappointment flitter across his face, “Wunderbar, my loves, wizards need their beauty sleep after all and perhaps this’ll teach you about finding your bed a little earlier in the future.”

And with that abrupt bombshell Molly sauntered away without a single look over their shoulder, an air of smug satisfaction on a job well executed following them as they went, leaving Caleb and Essek to attempt to pull together enough thoughts to understand what just happened. Once the penny dropped, Caleb fell back heavily against the edge of the table, quietly chuckling to himself as Essek huffed and crossed his arms across his chest feeling quite peeved over the whole situation.

“Mister Tealeaf appears to be attempting to train us into better sleeping habits,” Essek grumbled after several minutes of silence.

Caleb laughed, “I would be more upset if their methods weren’t so…”

Essek’s tetchy mood quickly deflated as his thoughts drifted to Molly and the shining joy and delight that exuded from them, it was hard to stay mad in the face of Molly’s cocky grin and playful antics that kept them on their toes, made their lives far more interesting and enjoyable, “Enticing?”

“Ja,” Caleb exhaled in awe. Essek understood, he still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to win the hearts of not one but two brilliant people, but he was forever grateful to bask in their love for however long they granted it to him.  

“Perhaps we can convince him we’ve earned such a treat tonight?” Essek suggested slyly.

“He did get all dressed up, it would be a shame to waste it,” Caleb said conspiratorially. They shared a mischievous smirk before following Molly at a pace that wasn’t quite a jog, but was in no way a leisurely walk.

[lululawrence]

lululawrence's January 2023 Fic List

Previous Fic Lists / Lulu’s List Podcast Masterpost

Happy 28th! Here are the 19 fics I read and loved during the last month. You'll notice I'm still finishing my Christmas reading, so let's just pretend it isn't so late in January as it is, shall we? And as always, be sure to show your love and appreciation for all of the hard work our fandom authors have put into their fics with kudos, nice comments, and (when applicable) reblogging their fic posts!

Mistletoe's For Two by @ireallysawanangel / crimsontheory (91k, E, Harry/Louis, Advent fic, enemies to lovers, fake dating, miscommunication, light angst, this fic was just so beyond charming and fun, i loved it so much, and from the beginning LOVED figuring out these characters, it was a great read and such fun enjoying as a WIP though i'm sure it's great all at once too haha)

love drunk, waiting on a miracle by @hellolovers13 / HelloLovers13 (30k, E, Harry/Louis, Advent fic, acquaintances to lovers, well, more like barista and customer to lovers, though that kinda happens at the beginning, and the focus is more on the development of their relationship, it's so sweet and fluffy and fast paced, it's a fun and lighthearted read that's got that festive spirit too)

Midnight by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything (11k, E, Harry/Louis, NYE fic, a/b/o dynamics, alpha Harry, omega Louis, friends to lovers, idiots in love, neighbors, there's more i wanna tag but it's kinda spoilery so I won't, I paused my Christmas reading for this, because everything about this fic is like crack to me, and as soon as I saw Lauren posted it and the tags and summary I had no choice, I had to read it immediately, and I regret absolutely nothing I loved it so very much, It was the perfect way to start the year for me lol)

Love This Christmas by @chloehl10 / lovelarry10 (68k, M, Harry/Louis, Advent fic, strangers to lovers, primary teacher Harry, teacher's assistant Louis, single parent Louis, pining, getting together, this fic was so much fun to read and I loved the details of the class and their working situation as well as outside of work the glimpses we got of their lives, and how it all just came together, this fic was adorable and sweet and i loved it)

Eyes on the Horizon by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright / yeah_alright (12k, E, Harry/Louis, Reverse Bang fic, age difference, older Harry, younger Louis, skydiving instructor Louis, Harry is having a bit of a mid-life crisis of sorts, he's just broken up with his long-term girlfriend, lost his job, and is coming up on a big birthday when he meets Louis, and he's so afraid of being a predator but ohhhhhhhh, he has NO need to worry about that hah, this fic was so incredibly fun and honestly quite educational about skydiving imo lol, but also so fucking hot it was SO good)

It's Thursday. Let's Get (un)Dressed. by @bananaheathen / bananaheathen (9k, E, Harry/Louis, NYE fic, tiktok, ootd tiktoker Harry, freshly broken up Louis, emotional hurt/comfort, Louis is pretty damn depressed which makes sense considering the situation, but he gets out of it and is okay!, genderfluid Harry, closeted Harry, this fic i'm kinda marveling at the fact it's only 9k because so many feelings and so much was put into it, it felt so much longer, and it takes up more space in my head and heart than I expected a 9k fic to be able to fill, but it's just, this fic is very important to me and i ADORE IT, SO MUCH, i keep thinking about this harry and louis as i'm going about my day sometimes, it's kinda ridiculous, anyway love love love and please read it and scream with me about how amazing it is thanks lol)

Wanted: Dog Walker by @louandhazaf / YesIsAWorld (6k, G, Harry/Louis, Reverse Bang fic, age difference, older Louis, younger Harry, silver fox Louis, dog walker Harry, neighbors, this fic is short and sweet and such fun, I love how Harry throws himself into walking Clifford, and how he and Louis start to develop a relationship with each other, it's very sweet and easy and honestly kind of precious)

Snow on the beach by @onlythesweet / onlytheclouds (9k, G, Harry/Louis, Christmas fic, based on Hallmark movies in general, so it's exactly what you'd expect, the busy city guy spends his holidays with his family in a small, rural town, and gets off on the wrong foot with the town's darling, only for them to fall in love hehehe, and that's exactly what you get, featuring Louis as the city guy and Harry as the town's darling, this was such a sweet fic and had a lot of feelings mixed in it was lovely)

Odd Dogs by @londonfoginacup / LadyLondonderry (4k, G, Zayn/Niall, Christmas fic, strangers to lovers, dog rescue, lots of dogs but especially a very special and important idiot of a dog, we love her very much a lot hahaha, if you're familiar with Emmu's special quirky shorter fics then you know about what to expect, and yet this fic just somehow goes one up, and i seriously almost woke up sleeping members of my household because of my laughter and teh sounds I was making trying to hold it in, this fic just hit me in the funny bone in a very specific way and Emmu's humor was perfection here, very very sweet and fun fic)

While the Moon is Bright by @tommokat / tommokat (1k, T, Harry/Louis, Christmas fic, girl direction, speed dating, meet cute, this fic was such a fun little snippet of their lives and I loved the hints of what might be to come that were sprinkled in too)

Baking Spirits Bright by @beelou / cherrylarry (2k, G, Liam/Harry, Christmas fic, youtuber Harry, established relationship, baking, well it's hot chocolate from scratch which is more cooking but that's fine, fluff, this fic was a pure and sugary confectionary treat to read, it was fun to see what their relationship was like and how fun it is for them too, you know?)

All I know is I'm in trouble ('cause the atmosphere's so cold) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same (8k, T, Harry/Louis, Zayn/Liam, Christmas fic, enemies to lovers, miscommunication, meet ugly, haha, skiing holiday, this fic was so good, I was trying so hard to figure out what exactly happened to make them so cold towards each other, especially when it was so obvious how much they loved their best friends and the fact their besties had fallen hard and fast, and then you learn and it's just, very sweet from there on out imo, this felt like a safe and soft space to hide out in for a bit)

'Sno(w) joke by @sun-tomato / SunTomato (6k, NR, Harry/Louis, Christmas fic, snowstorm, stranded, in a library of all places hahaha, strangers to lovers, cuddling, this fic was just so sweet and easy, and Lewis was of course the silly side-bit character we all love him being, it was just overall a fun and kinda silly but also heartwarming fic)

Ho Ho Hopefully by @larrieblr / safetyfilm (5k, T, Harry/Louis, Christmas fic, Harry is one of Santa's elves, Louis is a human he's been assigned to, pining, emotional hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers, this fic is so warm and tentative and sweet, and Louis is so lovely and exhausted and Harry just wants to adore him, it's so soft!!!)

Snow Squalls & Kitty Paws by @littleroverlouis / littleroverlouis (9k, G, Harry/Louis, Christmas fic, cat cafe, cat cafe owners Louis and Zayn, pining, snow storm, snowed in, acquaintances to lovers, this fic was so fun and such a joy to read, i loved reading it so much and it was like a hidden safe place i just happened on, it was so sweet)

If you ever feel alone (Don't) by @beardyboyzx / beardyboyzx (10k, G, Harry/Louis, Christmas fic, this fic is so heavy and sad almost but also so heartwarming?, Louis is clearly depressed and stressed and it makes sense why he's feeling that way, but also his friends are trying so hard to make sure he knows he's still loved and wanted, and so appreciative of the efforts he's able to make you know?, it's just, this fic was so lovely i adored it)

Louis' "Harry" Christmas by @chai-hat-tea / The_Halcyonic_Lachesist (10k, M, Harry/Louis, Christmas fic, friends to lovers, idiots in love, hurt/comfort, like literal hurt, Louis injures himself and Harry cares for him, it's so very sweet, but also Harry's family helps them realize how stupid they've been, because they've basically been in a relationship without even realizing it lolll, i love it so much)

Mistletoe Cove by @wabadabadaba / wabadabadaba (5k, G, Harry/Louis, Christmas fic, snowmen competition, strangers to lovers, this fic is so sweet and I love how it's based almost entirely around the snowmen they're trying to build, but they still manage to flirt despite that, it's so fun and silly and lighthearted)

The Elf who Saved Christmas by @ladyaj-13 / LadyAJ_13 (3k, G, Harry/Louis, Christmas fic, strangers to lovers, older brother Louis, Harry works at a Santa setup at the mall, and Louis doesn't know the rules about appointments, and it's so very cute, Harry and Niall are so funny but also I would imagine risking getting into trouble, but also I almost cried out of relief when they did what they did for Louis, I loved reading about how sweet they were without even knowing Louis!)

[feastonkings]

derek luh / he/they/she ——— no way is that GENESIS YOUNG.. they’re a 26-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being JEALOUS & HESITANT but there are some people who have seen them being CALM & REALISTIC. if you ask me, they remind me a lot of changing the subject, vague personal details, falling in love with strangers, happy little pills, and a childhood dies with thundering applause, but that could just be because they’re considered the STEPFORD SMILER around town. just keep an eye on them & see if their true colors shine through..

GENERAL.

full name: genesis nathaniel young nicknames: gen classification: human gender / pronouns: genderfluid, he/she/they age / birthday: 26, june 24th orientations: pansexual, demiromantic occupation: bartender at the lotus casino & model status: single family: mei young (mother, deceased), michael young (father, deceased), adoptive family wc, sibling wc strengths: calm, realistic, logical, proactive, patient weaknesses: jealous, hesitant, evasive, gossipy, insecure character inspo: tbd

BIOGRAPHY.

tw: death, murder

born to mei and michael young, an upper middle class house from what he can remember. family was normal, but ended up getting caught up in dealings with the mafia and struggled to make their payments on time.

genesis was told that her and her sibling were sold to the mafia as payment for their debt but the truth is they were murdered and the two were adopted into one of the families.

because of the lies they were told, genesis grew up hating his parents and made a promise to himself never to be in debt to the mafia nor leave their only family left behind

another thing she learned growing up was how to put on a mask, smile and act like nothing was wrong, and play off that she came from money when in reality, there was no guarantee to anything beyond the support their 'adoptive' family was willing to give

they were, however, sent to upper class schools and lived in the upper district so it made it easy to put on the mask and persona. just before they graduated, the last thing purchased for them debt free was a solid portfolio of headshots.

with that he's been able to get some work in the modeling industry and while he's not a big name, he hopes to be someday and possibly break into acting as well.

to pay the bills, she works as a bartender at the casino. it's been apparent that the mafia still keeps ties on genesis, so she figured working at the casino would be easy for both of them until she's able to make a steady enough income in the other field

to this day genesis doesn't know his parents were murdered, though he's been given a couple hints that what he was told wasn't completely true.

they're jealous of those who had families and easy ins to the entertainment/modeling industry and don't have to work so hard to survive. but they keep smiling through it and are still determined to make a name for themselves someday.

HEADCANONS.

coming soon

[athalantan]

BASICS.

NAME: Elminster "El" Aumar ALIAS(ES): Elmara; Eladar; Wanlorn; Gochall; Minstrel; El'Minster; Terminsel; Elgorn; Farwalker TITLE(S): Herald of Mystra; Sword of Mystra; Chosen; Master Harper; Elf-friend; Last Prince of Athalantar; The Mighty; The Wise; The Crafty; Armathor of Myth Drannor; Court Mage of Galadorna; The One Who Walks; Old Spellhurler; The Old Mage; The Old Sage; The Sage of Shadowdale; The Great Oversorcerer; Doombringer of Mystra; Weavemaster; The Harper APPELLATION(S): The Terrible; The Doomed; The Meddler of Mystra; Accursed One; Cursed One; The Great Foe MISCELLANEOUS: Old Weirdbeard; Uncle Weirdbeird; Beard Man RACE: Human CLASS(ES): Archmage; Wizard; Rogue; Cleric; Fighter PATRON DEITY: Mystra BIRTHDAY: Mirtul 30, 212 DR BIRTHPLACE: Heldon, Athalantar GENDER: Genderfluid (uses all pronouns) ORIENTATION: Panromantic pansexual

FAMILY.

GRANDPARENTS: Uthgrael Aumar, the Stag King (grandfather); Syndrel Hornweather, Queen of the Hunt (grandmother) PARENTS: Elthryn Aumar (father); Amrythale Goldsheaf (mother) UNCLE(S): Belaur; Elthaun; Cauln; Othglas; Felodar; Nrymm CHILD(REN): Susprina Arkenneld (adopted daughter); Storm Silverhand (adopted daughter); Dove Falconhand (adopted daughter); Laeral Silverhand (adopted daughter); Haedrak Rhindaun III aka Lhaeo (adopted son); Narnra Shalace (daughter); Laspeera Inthré (daughter); many others DESCENDANT(S): Filfaeril Obarskyr (great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter); Amarune Whitewave (great-great-granddaughter); at least one unnamed great-great-grandson; Simon Aumar (great-great-great-grandson); many others

PERSONALITY.

ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good MBTI: ENFJ (Protagonist) ENNEAGRAM: 5w6 (Problem-Solver) TEMPERAMENT: Phlegmatic FLAME: Cloud

APPEARANCE.

FACE: Rectangular with a distinctive hawk nose and crooked grin HAIR: Once a rich black, now white as stars; typically worn in long locs, often with a long beard to match EYES: Gray blue, at once both piercing and gentle SKIN: Warm, dark umber that's known much adventure SCAR(S): Detailed here HEIGHT: 6' BUILD: Wiry in their youth, now erring on scrawny; much stronger than they appear FACECLAIM(S): Steve Toussaint; Viola Davis

BIOGRAPHY.

El has lived an absurdly long life with an unbelievable amount of adventures, and they're still kicking. It's more than I care to condense into a bio, frankly. Thus I'll be giving an overview of their earliest years. Further details can be found in the timeline.

ELMINSTER WAS BORN IN THE small country village of Heldon, Athalantar. Their early days were spent peacefully, tending sheep and learning at their parents' feet. Then it was lost in a blaze of dragonfire. They were twelve years old when the Warring Princes of Athalantar sought out their hidden brother, El's father, to lay low him and all his issue. From then on, El was forced to make their way as an outlaw and a thief — or else be slaughtered by their uncle and the mages puppeteering him.

Seven years past before they could hide no longer. They entered Mystra's temple intending to burn it down, but left under Her divine guidance. There was nothing El hated more than mages and their goddess, but he couldn't thwart them by learning spells more powerful. First they were a cleric. Then they were a wizard. Then they were the face of a revolution. They rallied their allies and drove the tyrant and his mages from the land. However, El chose not to take the throne in the end. They wisely abdicated to Helm Stoneblade. Then they left, never to return, lest his reign be destabilized by their presence.

This was not an end for Elminster, merely a greater beginning. They'd hardly made it out of the capital of Hastarl before Mystra offered them a divine blessing — and divine burden. If El willed it, they would become Mystra's Chosen to serve Her will and further the Art across Toril. They accepted. They have thus outlived their natural lifespan by over a millennium, and have suffered grief and torments beyond any other. Still, they persist. Their greatest comfort lays in helping others; so long as they can be a force for good, they are satisfied.

[lotus-btas]

Hue Shipley

"This needs more TLC. Maybe that's why it's so brutal." - Hue's perspective on the world

An aspiring storyteller in many forms, Hue Aster Shipley is a young girl with big dreams. She comes off as pretty shy, but once you get to know her, she's the most loyal and fun friend you could ever have (though, that doesn't come easy, in most cases). Her consistent bad luck in the world has given her a small fear of it that still has yet to be conqured, and as a result has made straying from her comfort zone (her head) tough. She feels the most like herself when being creative and working towards her aspirations. She's a huge fan of all things purple, glowing, and robotic.

SURFACE LEVEL INFO:

Name: Hue Aster Shipley

Nickname(s): Huester (combo of "Hue" and "Aster")

Species: Human

Gender: Female

Orientation: Aromantic

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 16

Birthday: July 20th

Height: 163 cm (5'4 ft)

TRIVIA:

Hue's birthday (July 20th) is the same day Tru, the creator of Beyond Time and Space, was diagnosed with social anxiety (July 20th, 2022)

the name "Hue" means "heart," spirit," and/or "lily flower"; the plant aster conveys purity and innocence, and both asters and lily flowers - specifically daylilies - are perennial flowers

The character Hue herself was created back in 2019, with her name being used instead for one of Tru's personas; her full name was "Hue Ships" around this time

^ The persona in question started out as an anthropomorphic animal hybrid between a chameleon and a shiba-inu, who was theoretically genderfluid, before making the drastic - admittedly boring change to a human girl; the chameleon's ability to change color is what gave Hue her name, with her last name tying to that of an older persona with the last name "star," becoming a play on the word "starships"

Hue's nickname (Huester) is utilized on Tru's main blog as a way to organize posts via tags (huesterfaves, huestersvoid, etc.)

[purpleturtle9000]

Stares at you from the dark corner of the ceiling and a holographic turtle sticker floats down

Hey so. How do the Reds and Oranges feel about the hoard of blues? Are any of them particularly attached to one or more/do they do activities with them?

Also, are there any *whole* family outings? Like as one giant group all together? My first guess would be a birthday. Which also raises the question of how do they handle the blue/purple birthday with so many of them?

Last question (for now), I promised. Do missions still happen? Do the villains just suddenly have to deal with a rotating cast of turtles or is there just a select group that goes out to fight/mess around?

Parting thought. Leonardo in his Batman arc now. I’m giving him a cape to hide the maximum amount of children in

Slowly dissolves into the corner, taking the spiderweb that was up here with me

STICKER *puts it directly on my forehead*

This is the most ridiculous nonsense Angelo has ever seen. He knows good and well that Leonardo had zero ideas in all this beyond Obtain Horde and that the future is probably going to have a lot of mistakes in it. Some of these children are getting lost their first time away from home. He knows it. But any thoughts he might have about holy shit you moron are promptly wiped out by the fact that Unicorn adopts him immediately, because Orange was her favourite brother, and therefore so is Angelo. He then adopts all the rest of the little blues because it's like seeing a bunch of puppies, they're adorable and he can't resist loving them all.

His favourite is Unicorn, though, and nobody pretends otherwise. He also gets along great with Heiwa, who's a bonsai artist and likes having someone to talk to about it. (Also Jihi lets him pet them and Angelo is lowkey jealous about Heiwa having a pet crab.) He also has some Gender Conversations with Spruce, cause they're genderfluid and it's fun for them to talk about how their genders are similar and different.

Mikey, upon seeing, his big brother come back with fourteen mini blues, knows that that turtle is having a mental break of some kind. He's briefly worried he's going to have to step in and do something about this to help Leonardo stabilise, but Angelo reassures him that he doesn't have to do anything, and then Mikey's just immensely curious about all his new siblings. He updates the family drawing to include them all. That gets him adopted into the blueberries in return and he has a great time getting several new BFFs.

He and Lee are the same age, at fifteen, and they get along great, which means that by extension, Mikey and Echo are also friends. Some of the younger blues also ask Mikey for advice about how to find their place in a family. Not all of his advice is applicable, because his family was much smaller, but they have plenty of things to talk about regardless.

Red is laughing hysterically at all this. She's very nervous around some of the smaller ones though, like Baby Blue and Pep, because she's pretty sure they would never recover if she accidentally stepped on one of them. They're all awestruck by how tall and spiky she is, and several of them have nicknamed her 'kaiju' because of course Tello insisted on them all watching Pacific Rim on their first family movie night. It wasn't a unanimous vote but they have teeth and quite possibly rabies so.

If you try to take Baby Blue from her, she will tail-whip you all the way to Jersey. Her baby now, fuck you. Same thing applies to Pep, who is not above texting Tello for a 'rescue' while he's being cuddled by her just to see the unfolding carnage. He's a feral little bastard. She also gets roped into tea parties by the dozen with Unicorn and River, and teaches them how to paint their nails like Leo once taught her.

Raph is a little stressed at first because they're family and that means that it's his job to help protect them. He's also vaguely weirded out by there now being several more Leos that are older than him. But then he sees that Hamato, Alpha, and Vanilla are all helping to wrangle the Child Horde and is slightly less stressed about it. There's no way that the Horde are going to be kept safe without other people, takes a village and all that, and he's relieved that the older blues are a built-in support system.

That's part of the reason that he gets along with Vanilla so well! He's the most businesslike blue out of all of them, and Raph respects that and appreciates how it makes it easier. And to the surprise of pretty much everyone including him, he also gets along with Alpha pretty well. Alpha doesn't have to worry about much hurting Raph with how tall and strong he is, but not so tall and strong as to be intimidating like Red is.

There are family outings, and half the future family is wheezing with laughter at the sight of Leonardo with over a dozen children trailing behind him like a bunch of ducklings. The blueberries have organised three teams in case of emergency, with Hamato, Alpha, and Vanilla being team leaders. They manage to wrangle their mini-hordes fairly well, but random children keep disappearing to tail after Leonardo instead (or Tello, in Pep's case).

Leonardo also takes them all to the Hidden City to show them that there's other non-humans out there, besides Krang. They're all very fascinated with it, and of course they have to be warned away from Big Mama and Draxum, and introduced to Hueso. The look on Hueso's face when 16 Leonardos walk into his pizza place is literally priceless. Tello remembers it fondly.

Most of the blueberries have their own birthdays already. For those that didn't, or don't remember, they get to choose new ones! Their family calendar suddenly gets flooded with blue dates and Leonardo finds it hilarious. He's also very soft for the fact that Leon and Don also share a birthday as twins.

Blueberry birthdays are special events! Generally speaking, Leonardo takes the blueberry out for lunch and then they do whatever the little one wants for the afternoon until meeting with the whole family at Hueso's for dinner. Hueso appreciates the money, but at what cost?

(Some blueberries, like Alpha, do not care for outings. They stay at home and finds things to do there instead, like video games and movies, or sometimes board games. He let Monopoly happen once and it did not end well.

Missions still happen! Some of the smaller blueberries are banned from going on missions because they are Baby and nobody wants a twelve-year-old getting suckerpunched by Meat Sweats or some shit. On occasion, they are allowed to come along and sit in the turtle tank for a safe view from the sidelines.

Generally speaking, children under fifteen are not allowed on missions where weapons and villains are in play. Cobalt thoroughly ignores this whenever Alpha is out because he'd be safe in a war zone with Alpha there to maul anyone who comes near him. Alpha is rather stressed by this but nobody can get Cobalt to behave including him.

Hamato, Alpha, Vanilla, Heiwa, and Echo and Lee are the usual ones who are added to patrol teams. There was mass confusion on the villains' part when seven blue turtles showed up because clearly they had missed something. All the old-enough turtles (and Cobalt) go out sometimes but not all of them are interested in doing so regularly.

Occasionally younger turtles end up on missions because a day off gets gate-crashed by some asshole who wants to cause trouble. Leonardo always fusses over them when they're anywhere near any kind of danger, which they find hilarious. Pep flings himself toward danger with the reckless disregard of a hedgehog on a highway, content in the knowledge that Tello is right behind them.

Leonardo would love a cape, Batman arc or not. He does have a habit of wearing large blankets across his shoulders, during movie nights and such, so that he can blanket-burrito whatever child cuddles up to him. There's always a cuddler at hand. Usually four or five. He loves being in cuddle piles so it works out great. Sometimes when the littler blueberries get nervous about something, they'll hide in the blanket and he's gotta remember not to knock them over when he starts walking again, which is... shall we say unsuccessful a couple times.

[celestiiialz]

( lizeth selene, they/them, genderfluid ) i’m pretty sure i just ran into celestina ramirez! you know them, they’re the 25year old bottle girl that’s been here for 22 years. they can be pretty witty, but on the d.l., they’re also distant. i have their ringtone set as lento by julieta venegas in my cell. next time you’re around the bronx, tell them to give me a call! ( penelope, 24, she/her, est )

BASIC INFO.

full name: celestina marie ramirez.

birthdate & age: october 25th.

birthplace: el paso, texas.

pronouns & gender: they/them, genderfluid.

sexuality: pansexual. she likes what she likes.

relationship status: single.

occupation: bottle server at a club.

LIFE STORY.

celestina, or celeste, as they likes to go by, was born in el paso, texas. their parents were two undocumented immigrants who were searching for a better life, but they were young also, just shy of 20 and 19 years old... but things seemed promising.

they were barely scraping by when their father's friend had offered him a job opportunity in the bustling city of manhattan with housing in the bronx, which he was glad to accept. they were excited about the possibilities at hand even though they knew that there were challenges up ahead.

when they finally arrived to new york, their father got to work and their mother also picked up a job to help out with expenses. the apartment was tight and so was money, but the landlord was more than happy to help the struggling family.

things were okay, at first, at least to celeste. they were young and couldn't really comprehend or process the things happening around. eventually, they got enrolled into a public school and they all had a routine. their dad wasn't as present since his job was more demanding of hs time, but he was there. he was there.

at one point their father began to have later nights, usually chalking it up to work, but it became apparent that it wasn't reason his time had been occupied when he continuously arrived to the apartment visibly drunk and not well. there started the arguments, the resentment, the change in dynamic and it became even worse when their mother was pregnant again which was discovered only a few days after their 12th birthday.

it seemed like those next nine months were a blur, celeste had to drop out of school to help their parents with all the bills once their little sister was born. they would usually lie about their age and do small jobs here and there. the arguments became louder and more relentless, usually leaving them to calm down the baby he was screaming at the top of her lungs because of the chaos that was constantly plaguing their home.

the turning point was their mom disappearing, yes, their mother had left one without a single remark. leaving the 17 year old to care for the infant since their father was now jobless due to his alcoholism. they had multiple jobs and usually searched for the help of their friends to take care of their sister while they worked.

fast-forward to the present, and they are essentially taking care of her father (who has also been kicked out multiple times) and their thirteen year old sister. they scored a gig as a 'bottle girl' for a club which brings in a good amount of money, but only just enough as they are the only breadwinner now. there's nothing more that they wants than to be able to escape their current situation with their sister but unfortunately there's not much that can be done beyond work through it and hope for the best.

* thank you for reading all of this! if you'd like to plot or fabricate a thread just give this post a like and i'll reach out. <3

[shootingsun]

This is your local reminder that Beyond Birthday is genderfluid and aro-spec <333

[pronoun-note]

L and Beyond Birthday are transfem/transmasc genderfluid solidarity

they’re transfem/transmasc HOSTILITY, actually

[jackalsinthekitchen]

a wizard/a true star is fifty

some folks was even higher than me – but probably not too many

“It isn’t supposed to be for having major epiphanies. It’s supposed to be for looking at colorful shit.”

I still recall how intensely I resisted my sister’s advice – seldom the choicest instinct. She was my sitter, uniquely predisposed as she was and is to equanimity and sweetness. Of the two of us, I tend to be the handful, and she has enough patience and self-control for both of us – sometimes I wonder if I left mine behind in the womb for her. Anyway, she’d brought two tabs of LSD, a gift from a boy she lived with who shared her name, a former child prodigy violinist who’d completed his descent into defiant chaos. Drug-dealing was a part of this, and it’s another testament to my sis that she only ever did a few bumps of coke, in such proximity to his tundra of a stash. I’d have ended up at the “being murdered for pinching” part of the process in weeks, and I don’t even like cocaine – though that’s mostly because I’ve never tried it, having somehow sustained a rule to avoid anything that could kill me.

She’d had her first experience with acid that summer, nearly five decades after the of-love one, and neither of us could say if the stuff in our possession shared one molecule of ‘60s acid’s chemistry – the stuff that woke the Beatles up, and spurred them in 1967 to blur the lines between rock ‘n’ roll and some wondrous something else. Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was the first album to come clad in a self-consciously artistic garb: the world’s most famous band disguised in mustaches and multicolored marching band outfits, the unwieldy misdirect of a title printed on a bass drum and BEATLES spelled out in flowers. In books they loved (Through the Looking Glass et al.), Lennon & co. had learned how to translate the beguiling mystery of dreams into text. For three LPs, climaxing with Pepper, they’d more or less invented the music for it, too.

That kicked off a little epoch of people trying to do the same – my favorite in pop history. Every sound was new, all prior rules relaxed as fresh ones were being fashioned. The “rock” music of that ’67-‘74 era – a wild mass art project which for me includes Stevie Wonder and Joni Mitchell’s tonal palettes – eludes description. Music itself is remarkably emotional, endlessly communicative beyond the purely verbal. It’s a mysterious, potent substance, these infinite combinations of waves. Short of a more inventive image, Pepper and its descendants were radiant splashes of color bleeding through greyscale lines, indelibly staining blank canvas with unprecedented tints and shades. Even decades ago, people tried to wave their hands through that pink smoke with complaints about Western chauvinism and “high art” gentrification. But to me, it’s surrealism + genderfluidity + pure melodic rapture. You say you want a revolution?

Drugs were the primary engine of a lot of this effort. But by the mid-‘70s, which were a long time ago, even the best art-rock sounded washed out – overfed and overfunded. The hippies’ sweet dreams had barely weathered a dark night of the soul in full swing just a year after they’d hit full flower. But even without a ‘68 to bring everybody down, the fact remains – few dreams survive daybreak. And the waking dreams drugs deliver do usually crash into some kind of foggy hangover, “that elusive feeling” alcoholics talk about reliably dragging them closer to the gates of insanity or death. As for me, I first tried a drug – marijuana – just in time for my 21st birthday, after a youth spent getting high on people and rarely subduing my lows. It did feel like a waking dream – and as with any other addict, that enchantment came to haunt me. No common sense could keep my cat-curiosity from pulling me toward a second try.

Just a few years later, the obsession was total. My rock bottom was still a long way down, but anytime I could get my hands out of my empty pockets and on something which promised a buzz – an escape from reality’s perpetual itch and unrelenting anxiety – I made sure I did. I invited myself anywhere that held the promise of a shared smoke, and when no such invitation/intrusion was available, I credit-carded locked doors and quietly opened drawers minutes before the absent party returned. On a particularly audacious occasion, I found my way through a window I’d only hoped would be so easy to jigger open on the ride over. So often is marijuana insisted to be non-addictive, yet I went to insane lengths to disprove this, with no intention of sharing the data – the hiding, a product of the shame, is a huge part of addiction. I wasted time dreamin’ of the myth of California sobriety, but I was as much a mess as anyone stuck in their cups.

The accumulation of highs puts you sorely in the red on time and money you’ll never get back, and distances you from the longer-lasting highs you could, and ought to, build toward. But along with peacing (when not freaking) you out, drugs might, at their friendliest, convince you that you can see for miles and miles and miles. Oh yeah. What is it about, say, a THC high? It illuminates and then softens the barriers between you and the ether, that magical otherworld glimpsed in dazzling flashes but so elusive, drowned out by reality (or is it society?)’s dutiful buzzkill. It really connects you with something that does feel cosmic or spiritual or otherwise enlightening, and it can lead to breathtaking external or internal connections, or – if you happen to be an artist – invaluable arrangements of elements not otherwise discoverable. At its most benevolent, it can make artists of us all. But is the art you make true enough to be worth it, when it’s not you creating – it’s you through some disorienting filter?

Why I’d waste the actual prime of my life on all those fuzzed-out “highs” speaks to questions I’ve yet to answer. Other than being a lifelong self-sabotager, there’s no solid explanation available. Some of the motivation, though, lies in that first night I ever tried LSD. My quest for profound realizations was thwarted by a sudden inability to properly complete sentences. This did not ease my passage to becalmed bliss, and eventually my sister accepted that while I would probably prevent myself from enjoying/embracing the experience, I also wouldn’t die. She left, but it’s OK. She reclaimed her night, and I reclaimed my sanity (such as it was) by discovering how much nicer Can’s “Future Days” and Parliament’s “Flash Light” suddenly felt – my sister’s advice in vivid action.

I once read a quote about a researcher of some kind discussing two test groups of scientists, boldly exploring the frontier of recreationally ingesting mind-altering substances (for science). It was something about the marijuana users sitting around discussing life’s most profound questions, and the LSD users sticking their fingers in their bellybuttons. My only worthwhile experiences on LSD the three or four stomach-churning times I tried it that summer were musical. This translated to marijuana, which at least did me the favor of not disabling communication (and by extension, creativity). But in general, I was not asking profound questions while on weed – I’d just hole up and let my mind wander, with music becoming my most irresistible companion.

Frankly, the harmonic and structural advancements THC spurred in music I wrote were indispensable – bar its inconvenient side-effect of keeping me from finishing 80% of my ideas. The music I replaced these incomplete masterpieces with was an endless stream of Spotify playlists, glutted with mostly “art rock” from mostly the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. Much of it was designed for something like weed – you have no reason to play a Yes album more than once otherwise. I distracted myself from the fact that I was merely distracting myself with so much art whose sole purpose was to capture the whims of its perpetrators’ wasted minds. Still: in a big-beat, multi-track format, that approach can yield some real fun. Just marvel at the complete works of the second-chiefest (after sex) pleasure of my brief LSD patch, Jimi Hendrix, who died chasing his extraplanetary visions, but sure sounded dynamite giving them life.

Fifty years ago, Todd Rundgren, who like a lot of painfully white folks loved Jimi Hendrix, had ended up on the same astral plane Jimi crashed in. Having avoided drugs for ages, the better to maintain his uptight aloofness (and develop those acrobatic arrangements, and produce like nine other albums a year), by 1973, he was in a position to spend a lot of time and money getting audibly smacked sideways by substances. The hardest thing he’d taken before had been Ritalin, which resulted in the double-disc talent tour Something/Anything. But after disliking his first taste of psychedelics (DMT, the one where you have that fleeting field trip to a land of elves), Todd fell headfirst into his own head. What he saw made him hear beautiful music only he was capable of concretizing.

“I became more aware [through psychedelic drug use] of what music and sound were like in my internal environment, and how different that was from the music I had been making,” Todd told Mike Myers’ brother, who proved himself an excellent reporter (and très enthusiastic fan) for a 2010 biography. “My new challenge was to try to map, as directly as I could, the various kinds of chaotic musical element[s] in my head.” The artist began to externalize these mad visions by building himself a studio, and enlisting fellow musical utopians in the reification of his own flights of fancy. The resultant A Wizard/A True Star was an hour long – a two-LP length. But Rundgren crammed it onto one record, risking the loss in fidelity for his magnum opus in order to honor its unbroken sides. Wizard is the white Electric Ladyland: a production fantasia only a talent as hyperactive/producer as unkempt as Todd could’ve fashioned.

The standard for headphone music fifty years ago was the clean dreariness of Dark Side of the Moon, the first rock LP where all technological shortfall has been eliminated from the recording process. But Rundgren’s facile pop confections reliably share two characteristics – impudence and impatience. At his best, these qualities are more temperate – don’t let Mark David Chapman scare you off the brilliant (if deceptively deep) Ballad of Todd Rundgren. Yet a lot of times Todd’s natural insolence is what makes him fun – makes him punk, albeit a punk who’d never give up pop. He remains the corniest musician ever to secure Patti Smith’s stamp of approval (Blue Öyster Cult are close), but even she’s ignited by his messy genius. “Clever as a fox, my spirit lights,” she says in a poem Wizard included. “Spirit laughing free as water, in a ring of fire, with its hair aflame.” Todd had dyed his hair three neon colors that season.

Few records are as nice a listen high as Wizard – which inevitably means it loses a little luster when you’re not, its flaws magnified in the first rays of the new rising sun. It is the surest proof of one sad principle: the music intensifies the wonder of the drugs, but the drugs don’t deepen the meaning of the music. In any case, Wizard pulls out all the trippy tricks beautifully at its beginning. It kicks off with a fractalized tone dancing from one corner of your brain to another. Then the simulated sound of a rocket’s billowing plumes, then a slurp up to the stars on some synthesizer setting, and finally, a resonant keyboard ostinato Pete Townsend might give his sad-eyed nod to. It’s as if AI were told to synthesize “far out, man!” into a piece of music, and AI had a trace of wit (yet). It spills into a wonderful pop song, one which actualizes the automatic agape of psychedelic euphoria. “International Feel”’s pretty chord sequence that helps spruce up its words, which are only not nonsense under certain conditions.

(There is more) international feel

(And there’s more) interplanetary deals

(Still there’s more) interstellar appeal

(Still there’s more) universal ideal

“I only want to see if you’ll give up on me,” he sings. Decades later, he bragged during a commencement speech about how Wizard halved his audience, touting it as an example of the valiance of following your own nose. Not terrible advice for a graduating class – but an arguable misreading of what his endeavor represented. Wizard was designed as mass outreach, but when Todd turned on, it turned people off. Alienation is no virtue, and it’s definitely no way to establish a utopia. The fact is, so many drug users imprisoning themselves in their own heads think the things they’re conjuring up in there would set the entire world free – but good luck getting a coherent message across when you’ve returned to Earth. So the fun of this record is in its self-referential games, not its cockeyed aperçus, a technicolor extrapolation of Something/Anything’s cute “sounds of the studio” interlude. “Just as surely as I’m in your ears”, he winks at you at one point, and I can never for the life of me remember the second half of that thought.

After “International Feel”, Todd drifts into a number from the Mary Martin Peter Pan before the primary fear of a “head trip” hits – that the good part will fade soon (better get more!). “Tic, Tic, Tic (It Wears Off)” takes you on a cheerful march through the LP’s main style – intricately layered synthesizer doodles, unless Todd is picking up his guitar and brontosauring around in the manner of the most indulgent Roy Wood. It resembles Something/Anything’s “Breathless”, though wiggier and more whimsical, which is welcome. At its most arbitrary, Wizard feels like nothing more than exercises in overdubbing – but if you’re in an altered mindstate, everything is illuminated. He then crashes into a song that bellows “WHAT YOU NEED IS YOUR HEAD”, even as the artiste sounds like he’s lost his. The album is usually either a kaleidoscopic confluence of alluring cadences, or a lot of weird shit piling up around you.

It doesn’t puncture the dreamlike aura, but “You Need Your Head” unleashes Todd’s mean streak, which no magnitude of good vibrations can subdue. For a willow of a wunderkind, at his worst, Todd was a notorious asshole. Though the bar was low enough to reach, the vitriolic “Rock ‘n’ Roll Pussy” is a much weaker song than the contemporary work of its target, John Lennon. Of all those impotent dogfight insults, the word “pussy” – so sensual in its other sense – is especially noxious. Lennon was a far gentler spirit than Rundgren, but Rundgren has the advantage of never dealing anything but verbal blows. “Pussy” is commendable for calling this out, but when Rundgren took it farther in offhand comments, he got his ass handed to him, in the finest thing Lennon wrote in 1974.

After that, Rundgren layers himself pretending to be dogs laughing for another transitional minute – it’s annoying, but not ineffective, especially if you’re in that tense interval every high guarantees. This whole sequence of vignettes slides by so fast, and is so disorienting and unprecedented, that it can be a rush in context. But as I write about it, the meaner-spirited it all feels. This is especially true of the supercute but indefensible “You Don’t Have to Camp Around”, on which Todd (who somewhere on side B sings “my voice is so high, you would think I was gay”) confers upon himself the authority to call out the queer male community’s “mincy lisping” as some kind of pose. Wilde might smirk at the “tssss-ts-ts-tssss” vocal percussion, but mostly, it's typical ‘70s hate humor. The permission it thinks it gives for gay men to liberate themselves from already liberated behavior is a condescension that could only spew forth from a giant fucking dick.

Still, it’s in keeping with the concept, which is apt for a drug album: Whatever Just Occurred to Todd, verbally and musically. Yet another arch instrumental (“Flamingo”, get it?) blends into side A’s captivating, perplexing centerpiece, “Zen Archer”. It seems bent on being a battle hymn for Martians, and the lyrics scrape at significance without ever getting there. But as it gives way to a swirl of harmonies (a Rundgren specialty, that callow, childish voice going all angelic in a choir of itself), and as those simulated arrows soar between your ears, you’re under the wizard’s spell, and buying everything the true star is selling. On a song like this, the endless sardonics lighten a heavier tread – Todd is too sarcastic not to palliate self-serious caprices such as this.

Still there’s more. Todd impersonates a nightmare oompah band on “Just Another Onionhead”, another set of words the drugs told him were profound enough to write down (“the falling of the hare“, “prime cut of baby’s butt”). It switches on a dime to “Da Da Dali”, an ersatz Al Jolson croon over an atomized jumble of deliberately fucked-up Tin Pan Alley chords. Then comes “When the Shit Hits the Fans; Sunset Blvd.”, another blast of macho-rock – as Todd sings elsewhere, “I play my guitar in such a man-cock way”, and this proves it again. One of the ways Wizard best flatters a high is how you can let your mind wander about fifteen minutes in and you won’t miss anything. But when it all surges back into “International Feel”’s glorious refrain, well. You feel like you’ve really been somewhere.

As I inferred earlier in this piece, I didn’t want to take drugs to turn my mind off. Todd has spoken of the same objective. Trouble is, when you take drugs, you’re not necessarily likely to strengthen your mind. Indeed, you’re ceding its control to an occupier that can’t think, but sure has some ideas about how you should be doing it. Even a few years into my abuse of weed, I recognized that what I appreciated about it was uncomfortably close to one of alcohol’s many dubious assets: the parameters of its impairment momentarily strengthened a focus. (Being a millennial means having ADHD – like Todd – so I shudder to imagine how many problems of mine a first sniff of cocaine might appear to solve.) It’s just an illusion, and all its confusion will catch up to you sooner or later. Some of Wizard’s players crowed to Paul Myers about how nice the muddled-ethereal chords are for “Sometimes I Just Don’t Know What to Feel”, but the lyrics prove its clearest thought is the titular one. It vies for incisive, but ambles toward aimless.

That song is an uncertainty manifesto: a self-negating oxymoron. But the parts that aren’t dour or overambitious are really gorgeous, and the rest of side B is a string of some of the nicest pearls ever to form in an acid-addled noggin. “Does Anybody Love You” boasts a master melodist’s most effervescent melody, and the auteur’s chirping vocal improves one more unaccountably bitchy lyric, knocking a mirror-gazing narcissist of the female persuasion. (He was with Bebe Buell at the time, a person who’s made a career of her own promiscuity, and who inspired another talented sexist, Elvis Costello, to pen his most vituperative tunes.) It's a testament to Todd’s equal-opportunity nastiness that he manages to sling mud at the vain and the self-disgusted (“love between the ugly is the most beautiful love of all”) in the same two-stanza track; it’s a testament to his voracious taste for sweeter melodies that he cloaks this dagger in one of the sweetest.

He then spares us further transitional crotchets by borrowing some of the most beautiful melodies of all. Like so many Philly musicians, pop-soul was in Todd’s blood. To kick off the medley in this side’s middle, he chooses one exquisite hit each from the genre’s greatest innovators, Curtis Mayfield (the Impressions’ “I’m So Proud”) and Smokey Robinson (the Miracles’ “Ooh Baby Baby”). The choices are astute – two of the dreamiest songs by two of the dreamiest writers, who shared a gift for sifting disarming emotion out of the harmonic atmosphere. The songs’ mutual tone is so gentle and compassionate that the long break they offer from Todd’s uncut ego dissolves any bad taste he’s left. I wish he’d gone with Chairmen of the Board’s “Give Me Just a Little More Time” or the Five Stairsteps’ “O-o-h Child” over the Delfonics’ “La La Means I Love You” for his third, but his bratty delivery adds an odd resonance to its innocence, and he would’ve ruined those other, better songs anyway. And though his 7/4 rendition of “Cool Jerk”, the medley’s conclusion, is another burst of buzzy racket, for once, the music justifies the discord.

After the dumb “Hungry for Love” – which always flies by even though it technically hangs around for two minutes too long – come two cuts, one feather-soft and one diamond-hard, which pull off the unusual trick of partially justifying their own toxic politics. “I Don’t Want to Tie You Down” is the most vulnerable Todd ever let himself be in front of a microphone, a rare concession that the double standard men impose on liberated women (a still-fresh concept in 1973!) is bullshit. As I-fucked-up songs go, it’s a blue valentine. “It gives my life a bit more meaning to feel in love with you,” Todd admits, letting his codependency show. But he sees this shaky foundation, and a glimmer of saving-grace interdependence: “The balance of our minds together, the perfect give and take/for me to let my love possess you, that would be my worst mistake”. Only once does he compulsively mar his own perfect picture, cracking his paper thin voice as he leans into the one stupid line he allows: “oh JEsus/I don’t want to nail you down.”

Then there’s the striking “Is It My Name”. An ardent, searing plea to some ladyperson who doesn’t want to deal with Todd’s bullshit, there’s plenty of it to step in throughout the lyric – not just the gay voice-“man-cock” couplet, but the indecipherable chorus itself. Is Todd’s hypothesis that she doesn’t want to go out with him because he’s too famous (haha), or because he has one of the unsexiest (Rundgren) names (Todd Rundgren) in rock ‘n’ roll history? And does he seriously not know that’s not it? But the opening line is “there is cause and effect/there’s a reason I’m so erect”, and it’s belted with such openhearted urgency, the crotch-rock of it all is dispelled in the sheer candor. Its extended coda is a clunky blizzard, but if your mind was blurry to begin with, this feels like a real climax. Then he closes out with five flawless minutes: “Just One Victory”, as celestially empowering an anthem as was ever divinely dictated to a nerdy white pseud.

I spent ten years high on not just weed but the same small chunk of pop history. I eroded my resolve against the hippie era’s long-disproven false promises with a dangerous cocktail: records, mixed with stronger and less pure intoxicants than the stuff they had back then. A horribly destructive bout of alcoholism – that habit is a whole year kicked – pulled me away from pot for a hot minute. But I still tricked myself into thinking that being a clean half century away from 1973 meant I should drown myself in its music, which, barring some anomalies, was either painfully pillowy or deliriously droogy. That year was peak bleak ‘60s hangover, and while I’m glad coke and quaaludes aren’t all the rage anymore, I gobbled enough space candy to simulate each, tearing myself off my own yellow brick road. And I frequently returned to “International Feel”, giving into the urge to tickle my brain with the same distressingly impermanent hour on trips that got me precisely nowhere.

I don’t know what Todd and I were looking for – escape, I suppose, a version of consciousness featuring frills only mirages can provide. In any case, he never got where he was trying to go either – his next three records, Todd, Todd Rundgren’s Utopia and Initiation,took unchecked psychedelic doodling well beyond the humanly tolerable. Because Todd’s best work (productions for other artists aside) was behind him by 1973, I’d forgotten how self-parodic and sanctimonious so much of his later work could be, even after he’d rediscovered form’s function. He was so talented, I have a permanent soft spot for him, and I was licking my lips reading the effusive descriptions of heavenly harmonies on the much later Nearly Human’s “The Waiting Game”, which Todd claims he dreamed. Put it on and you hear ‘80s hell. Rundgren is too sharp today to suspect he stayed stoned, but I wonder how unblown a mind can become. The loss of whatever he traded away was a fatal one.

I’ll never forget the soul-settling luminosity of the opening notes to Jimi’s “Burning of the Midnight Lamp” as I enjoyed them coming down from a no-fun high (so many of them are no-fun highs), while laying back in my neighborhood pool after dark. But the reality is, you don’t need any substances to really dig Electric Ladyland – it gets you there anyway. Wizard is the ultimate drug LP; drop the 3-D glasses, and watch its dimensions flatten. And much of the last decade’s pop, be it trap or the sugary soundscapes of Charli XCX (who sampled Todd on an early mixtape), does the waking dream thing better. As more earthbound sounds seep onto the charts again, I uneasily realize that much of what I’ve been up to all this time is diluting one high with another one. The best music will transport you all by itself. To insist on conjuring up clouds to admire it through is to pull a curtain between you and the art – and even worse, you and the life the art is there to affirm.

[azcatgoesmeow]

I’m so glad we have canon genderfluid Beyond Birthday to make people like me feel seen.

[trans-l-lawliet]

I'd love to see more of your DN university AU... Maybe some headcanons of Naomi and Beyond?

I am truly surprised people want more about this AU, not gonna lie… Okay, I’m combining both requests because both have Beyond, and also I’m liking this “three characters” format I’ve got going on. Without further ado, here they are, the LABB trio! Hope you two like these!

(This goes hand in hand with the disaster main trio and the wammy’s trio posts)

Naomi Misora: She’s in her third year of criminology, already training her mind and body to get into a law enforcement agency. She secretly admires L, who helped her with some tutoring on her second year and has some kind of friendship with; they form part of the same study group, and they started to attend capoeira classes together. She also has a love-hate friendship with Rue, a guy she met on the dorms her first year, who somehow ends up taking her to spontaneous and almost-illegal adventures on the weekends. She is convinced they haven’t been caught thanks to her quick thinking, Rue’s shameless bravado, their combined fighting skills, and her motorbike.

Beyond “Rue/B” Birthday: Everyone is surprised how he hasn’t been expelled yet, but there he is, on his third year of Culinary Arts. No one knows much about his past, the only rumours that are confirmed are: he’s Hispanic and has no family. Everyone knows who he is, though: if you want anything, anything, sneaked into campus and delivered to you, Rue’s your man. There’s also no details of what his feud with L is, and to be honest, he already forgot as well how it started, but Ryuzaki actively ignores him while B is constantly pulling elaborate, inconvenient, yet harmless pranks on him around campus. He lives in the dorms with Aarul, and chose Misora as his adventures companion after he witnessed her drop kick a fuckboy the first week of first year. 

Aarul “A” Adhikari: People who thinks that A doesn’t seem like an interesting person has never heard them play. On their third year of studying Music, they can play at least seven instruments beautifully, and they already compose and produce their own instrumental songs. Very few are lucky enough to have heard them sing, and only their roommate Beyond has heard the passion on their voice when they sing in Bengali, their first language. Like B, they don’t have any family left, but the inheritance they got allowed them to move out of India to pursue their dreams. On their first year, they hid from all the chaos in campus on Wammy’s coffee shop, where they started being friends and study buddies with L, which then extended to Light, Naomi, and the three other kids that spent a lot of time at the coffee shop, forming quite the interesting study group.

[gloom-and-doom-in-my-room]

Harry Potter was a big part of my childhood.

My first best friend, way back further than a lot of my memories go so this was something special, loved Harry Potter and helped me cope with a bully through it.

I loved reading the books, waiting to turn 9 so Mom would let me read book 3 and checking out the last three books from the school library when I got too impatient.

I remember my 11th birthday, I had Harry Potter theming and a cool lightning bolt cake split between Harry's Scar and the Flash symbol since my brother and I have our parties together and that year he chose superheroes.

I remember taking sorting hat quizzes and getting Hufflepuff.

I remember reading the occasional fic, back when I was first starting to get into fanfiction and hung around fanfiction.net (I didn't know ao3 was a thing).

I remember when I was 13, and starting to have a gender identity crisis. I remember being 14, and figuring out I was genderfluid.

I remember seeing JKR's tweets.

I remember reading paragraphs about the problems in Harry Potter beyond the abuse Harry suffered that was never really touched upon. The obvious racism that I'd never noticed before, the sexism, the christonormativity, all of that.

I remember wondering how I didn't notice those parts before.

I remember still engaging with fanworks, but avoiding the official content. I remember not wanting to see Fantastic Beasts, but having to go anyways, I remember reading My Immortal and laughing my ass off while cringing, and then getting another JKR book for Christmas and wanting to hurl it away but being too polite and afraid to do so.

It's still laying on the couch.

I remember riding home on the bus one day, and writing and revising a rant aimed at JKR in my head because I was so filled with rage and I didn't come out of my thoughts until we were halfway to my stop.

I remember sitting down and writing this post, remembering all the important moments of my childhood and staying up late at night to look at harry potter stuff and the guilt I felt after finding out my favorite series had so much bigotry in it and finding my hufflepuff hat after the tweets and never wanting to wear it again.

Fuck JKR.

[honey-dewey]

Bi Man Energy

Pairing: Dieter Bravo/GN! Genderfluid! Reader

Word Count: 1,467

Warnings: Drug and alcohol mentions.

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

A/N: This was supposed to be short and sweet in celebration of The Bubble’s release and Pedro’s birthday, but the words got out of hand, and now you get a second post today. Happy birthday to the man who has saved and changed my life. Enjoy.

You had never met a man as captivating as Dieter Bravo. You’d also never met anyone as weird and ridiculous. He was seemingly always high, his ratty bathrobe and sweatpants hanging off his body and looking so unlike the composed man who attended press events and smiled for the camera at premieres. You liked the dichotomy. It reminded you that Dieter was human and not a celebrity cardboard cutout. 

You were also reminded of this whenever he stared you down. 

“Can I help you?” You asked, looking up from your project. As one of the only costume designers allowed on set, you had your hands full constantly. And Dieter’s staring wasn’t helping, even if it was hidden ever so slightly by his stupid sunglasses. 

“No,” Dieter decided slowly, and you sighed, going back to pinning a pair of pants. 

He stared for the rest of the day, always seeming slightly confused. You ignored him rather well, finally locking yourself in your room and tossing fabrics around in an attempt to find something to wear to the night’s cocktail party. Why you were having a mandatory party during quarantine was a question you didn’t have the answer to, but you were attending anyway. 

Hugging a dress to your figure, you shrugged, grabbing a shirt and slacks and holding them up instead. You’d been female presenting all day, but as soon as you held the dress up, you felt weird. 

“Man night it is,” you said, tossing the dress aside and grabbing a vest. If you were going to go all out on being a guy, you were going to do it right. 

Which meant you spent nearly two hours desperately dressing and re-dressing, hoping beyond hope that what you picked was masculine enough. You’d been called all sorts of names in your past, and although you wore jeans and loose shirts constantly while working, you felt you passed as whatever gender you were that day. But in formal clothes, it was so easy to cross the line from ‘trendy man’ to ‘butch lesbian.’ 

In the end, you turned in your mirror and felt a shock of euphoria. Finally. You’d found it. 

Truthfully, you’d gone rather far on your clothes, but still managed to find something fancy and formal and in your vibe. You were fairly certain this outfit was one of your thrifted ones, and you truly adored it. A pair of black slacks, suspenders in the colors of the genderfluid flag, a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a stunning blue and silver embroidered vest with silver buttons. You considered a bow tie, but decided against it. You simply popped the top button on your shirt and smiled. You’d done your makeup to make yourself look masculine, giving yourself a shadow of facial hair and a stronger jaw. Jewelry was minimal but still there, with three black silver rings with blue stones on different fingers and a silver watch on the inside of your dominant wrist. Turning in the mirror, you admired yourself for a good minute before sliding your shoes on and heading downstairs. 

The instant you opened the doors into the bar, you felt your chest pull tight. This was it. The first time you’d show yourself off as a guy to these people. And you were terrified. 

You didn’t have to be. As soon as you were up at the bar, Carol sat next to you. 

“You look amazing,” she said. “Didn’t know you had all that muscle under those t-shirts.” 

You smiled. Just earlier while you’d been working, Carol had complimented your corduroy skirt, and now she was just as easily completing your muscles. No snide remarks or invasive questions. “Thank you so much!” You said. “The personal trainer in my mirror may have helped with that a bit.” 

Carol nodded. “She’s been a lifesaver,” she agreed. “Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask you, do you have a pronoun preference? We’ve all been using she and he depending on what we see, but I don’t want to be disrespectful.” 

“Oh,” you said, relief flooding your veins. “He and she work,” you said. “But I prefer they. It fits better.” 

“Okay,” Carol said. “I’ll spread the word.” 

You grinned as she left, suddenly feeling confident about yourself. The last project you’d worked on had been a transphobic shitshow, and you were glad that this one seemed different now. 

“Hey.” 

You turned, seeing Dieter, still in his pyjamas, sitting beside you. He was swaying ever so slightly, and you could smell the weed in his bathrobe. You were almost positive he had literally just woken up for this event. “Hello,” you said, sipping your drink. “How’re you doing?” 

“Good,” Dieter said slowly, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re…” he trailed off, as if he was unsure of what he wanted to say. 

“Yes?” You prompted, voice suddenly icy. 

Dieter nodded a few times, eyes widening again. “Hot.” 

You almost dropped your glass. “I’m sorry?” 

“You’re hot,” Dieter repeated. “I like the vest.” 

You were shocked. “Dieter,” you said. “I’m a guy.” 

“And I’m bi,” Dieter replied, his words slurring just a touch. 

“Oh.” That explained a lot, actually. You’d always assumed that Dieter was straight, but that was his public persona. Truthfully, you’d always wondered. And now you had your answer. “Well, Mr. Bravo, I don’t think you’re half bad to look at either.” 

Dieter’s confused face made you sigh. Yeah. He was high as fuck. “You’re hot too,” you said bluntly, and Dieter smiled. 

“Been tryin’ to peg you for weeks,” he said. “Boy, girl, neither, couldn’t tell.” 

So that explained the sheer amount of staring he’d been doing. “I’m genderfluid,” you said. “They/them pronouns.” 

Dieter nodded. “Cis guy,” he said, gesturing to himself. “He/him.” 

Smiling, you raised your glass. “Cheers,” you said, and Dieter drank with you as you took another sip of your drink. 

“Really is a nice vest,” he said when he was done. “It’d look better on my floor though.” 

You nearly choked. “I’m sorry?” You asked between bouts of coughing. 

“I wanna have sex with you,” Dieter said. “Wanna lay between your thighs, feel you all over.” His breathing was getting heavy, and you stood, wondering if you should alert someone. “Want you inside of me.” 

“Oh that one’s gonna be tough,” you mumbled, catching Dieter as he stood and stumbled. “Let’s get you back to your room.” 

“M’kay.” 

You practically carried Dieter to his room, easing him onto his bed and stripping him of his robe. You tossed it into the hall, determined to wash it while he slept off the alcohol and drugs. 

“C’mere,” Dieter insisted as you tried to walk away. “You’re so soft,” he said, eyes wide as he looked up at you. “I fucking love you.” 

You sighed, the back of your neck heating significantly. “Dieter,” you started, but he shushed you. 

“No,” he insisted. “M’serious! You’re so nice to me, and you never yell. Never tell me to lose weight or work out. You’re pretty and handsome and I love watching you work. Your hair looks nice and your skin is nice and your eyes are nice and all of you is just so nice.” 

You chuckled, sitting on Dieter’s bed and tucking his blankets around him. “Get some rest Dieter,” you said, shifting his hair and kissing his forehead. “You’re tired.” 

“Yeah, I am,” Dieter mumbled. “Stay?” He asked, turning his puppy dog eyes on you and completely melting you from the inside out. 

“Fine,” you said, unbuttoning your vest and laughing when Dieter’s brows turned up, his awed expression never melting as you shimmied out of your vest, suspenders, and looked around. “Can I borrow some pyjamas?” 

Dieter nodded, and you scooped up a pair of pants and one of his shirts. “I’ll be right back,” you promised. “Gonna wash my face, okay?” You felt like you were talking to a toddler, but Dieter nodded anyway, closing his eyes as you ducked into his bathroom and took off your binder. As you took some deep breaths, you washed your face off. Finally, you were crawling into Dieter’s bed, wrapped in his pyjamas and his blankets. He made a very happy noise, pulling you close and snuggling up. You snorted, kissing Dieter’s mess of hair and smiling. “Good night,” you said. 

Dieter hummed, his breathing already evening out as he fell asleep. “G’night,” he grumbled, his eyes finally sliding shut. 

“Oh Mr. Bravo,” you said softly. “What ever will I do about you?” 

Feeling yourself grow sleepy, you sighed out, stroking across Dieter’s back and feeling a sense of comfort like never before wash over you. “Guess I’ll figure it out when I wake up,” you decided, falling asleep slowly, surrounded by Dieter and his love.

[tema-makes-art-sometimes]

Since I reblogged the cool post about Octobun’s Mirculous server, I wanted to show off my character for that particular AU!

I plan to add Seychelles and Romano, but main muse is Villain France, Beaupaon~ Have his backstory/bio!

Name: Jean Epine

Age: 39

Birthday: July 26th

Gender: Genderfluid (Any Pronouns)

Orientation: Panromantic Asexual 

Location: City Center 

Occupation: Fashion Designer

Personality

Jean is a character who takes his time admiring the world around him and the beauty within it all. He’s someone who’s been through hardship, but always tries to look on the brighter side of the world. He’s passionate and confident, and often comes across as more self-centered than he is. He believes in the importance of love and acceptance, and nothing to him is more important than the love and care of oneself and the ones around you. 

While many focus on sharpening their swords, Jean sharpens his tongue and his mind. He will find ways to talk his way out and around any problems. He never goes into something he’s unsure he won’t come out on top of. However lately some of his emotions and actions have become rather erratic and confusing, with seeming no goal or benchmark in mind. 

When not putting on a smile for others he can be a lot softer spoken and more introspective. Sometimes you can see it if you catch him relaxing when others aren’t looking. His face goes from his smarmy, carefree smile, with sparkles of mischief in his eyes; to a quiet solum energy, and a thunderstorm in his gaze that seems to stretch out beyond everyone around him, to something only he can see. 

Likes

Miraculous Work

Dining/Theater

Designing/Sewing

Finery

Art/Painting

Biking

Radio Hosting

Dislikes

Setbacks

Dirt/Grime

His Achy Joints

Rough Sleep

Caffeine Free Coffee

Bad Smells

Unappealing Things

Mental and Physical Ailments: PTSD, Major Depression, Weak Ankles and Back Scarring. He’s a consistent ambient cane user. 

Backstory

Jean is currently a famous fashion designer who has grown up in the town of Vierles after moving from another city to it in his youth. He carried a lot of childhood anxiety, having been very gloomy in his youth and struggling with a lot of emotional pressure from his family who expected nothing short of perfection from him. He spent much of his youth as a normal child until his high school years where he was recruited around the age of fifteen by a man who taught him about the amazing power of the miraculous. 

Becoming a hero gave a teen Jean a lot of hope that he didn’t otherwise have, and gave him strength in comrades that he felt was deeper than just the surface level amount he received in his regular life. However it all came crashing down, their master gone, one of their partners becoming the keeper of the box, and that was barely the surface of his troubles… 

With no guidance and the muscle memory of his perfection, he immediately tried to overly support others at the risk of his own health, struggling to keep his power in check while also supporting others through the turmoil. Once he graduated, he left for college, taking his miraculous with him to another city, and thus the hero Pavonine disappeared. 

When he returned to the city many years later, and much wiser, he joined the fashion industry and rose up the ranks, and people began to see the “hero” known as Beaupaon. Or, he was a hero at first. The beautiful and graceful character with endless charms seems to bounce back and forth wildly in want and scope. One day, he charms people to wreak havoc, on other days he helps poor people down on their luck. It’s impossible to gain his end goal from this.

His emotions seem to constantly be in flux, snapping from one extreme to the next that unlucky few can see in real time if they’re nearby when he’s causing trouble. No one knows exactly what he wants, and most people assume he doesn’t know either, he seems simply insistent on making as much trouble as he can to “draw him out”... whatever that means…

Codename: Beaupaon (formerly Pavonine)

Miraculous: Peacock

Kwami: Kwami of Emotion, Duusu

Alignment: Antagonist (Current), Hero (Former)

Weapon: Fan (and a Staff)

Power: The Ability to create a being or object that can be used to aid a person in whatever they wish, usually by taking his feathers to inhabit an object of high emotional connection. This being is tied to the person who is holding the item, and can either be dismissed by the holder or by Beaupaon himself with the snap of his fingers. He’s able to form a mental connection between himself, the person and their creation. The things he creates are also tied emotionally to their holder and can be used to manipulate or force out the emotions he wishes for them to channel. For example, giving them an item that channels out their anger allowing them to take it out on the nearby city to get it out of them until it burns out or he no longer has use of it. 

How they got their Miraculous: He was given his miraculous back in high school when he, Oliver and many others were training under their previous master. When their group fell apart, and he moved away for college and life, he took Duusu with him.