#the “let female characters be complex” crowd are (not always but sometimes) the first to remove these complexities and it's frustrating!

[sukibenders]

"Penelope has insecurities!" As an excuse for her harming others because of those said insecurities falls very flat when it puts the character's, who live during a time of few options especially if you were a women, at risk. And even with her insecurities, her lashing out and hurting people should be held in the same regard as how some view Cressida, who didn't get the luxury of a view into her home life until s3, unlike Penelope, and while it still has people calling out this behavior, although rightfully so, it often still includes denying that Penelope needs to take accountability as well.

[mrsjellymunson]

Start Something

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie helps you generate a new D&D character, but that’s not the only thing that gets started that day

WC: ~2.5k

C/W: 18+, MDNI! NSFW? Physical flirting and teasing, heavy petting, sort of in public (nobody notices). Smut-adjacent? Thigh riding. Swearing. Nothing overly explicit, but it does get heated. Eddie and reader are both over 18. Trope: oh no, there aren’t enough seats, where will you sit? No y/n, one pet name. No physical descriptions of reader other than she wears a skirt (of unspecified appearance).

A/N: Should I be working on parts for my outstanding series? Yes. Would this not leave me alone until I wrote it down? Also yes. I had fun creating a new character in a different RPG and I have no idea whether this is how D&D works, so if it’s not, let’s just pretend, okay? 😆 Text dividers by @strangergraphics Dice dividers by me 🫣☺️

I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 🖤

My masterlist

Eddie can’t believe his luck. You’re pretty (gorgeous, actually), insanely intelligent and have, for some as yet indecipherable reason, decided that you want to play D&D. With a load of nerdy teens. And him.

You’ve joined in with a couple of short campaigns at school, seeming to enjoy them immensely and fitting in well with the group, bantering with the boys and bonding with Erica over your shared ‘take no shit’ attitudes. At first Eddie wasn't sure how that dynamic would work, but you slipped easily into letting the younger girl show you the ropes, and Erica is clearly enjoying having more female energy around.

Eddie knows that creating a new character is one of your favourite things to do. He’d never admit it, but it’s one of his favourite things to watch, too. He adores the sparkle in your eyes, your creative brain and how excited and animated you get when you come up with new ideas. Sometimes they’re sketchy, or even impossible, which he finds hugely endearing. He also loves how you’ll always check in with him, asking his advice and respecting his opinion.

This weekend he’s running a oneshot at his trailer for the younger members and you. New characters, novel plot, the works. The plan is to create new characters in the morning, and play the game in the afternoon.

This’ll be the first time you’ve been to his home, or seen him anywhere outside of school, and Eddie’s nervous as all fuck.

He couched it as ‘a good opportunity to develop a greater understanding of the game’, but he definitely has an ulterior motive for inviting you here.

So far, he’s taken every opportunity he can to make you laugh, sit near you, even touch you. Creating scenarios where a subtle hug, or even a playful tickle is somehow appropriate. He covers it quickly by immediately doing it to someone else, hoping you won’t spot the bulge in his pants and the fact that he can’t stop looking at you.

He’s not sure for how long he can keep it up. He wants so much more, and it won’t be long before he either loses it, takes it too far, or, worst case scenario, you notice he’s being a total creep and ditch the group because of it.

He’s been trying to muster the balls to ask you out for weeks, practicing lines and imagining scenarios, but he’s found it more difficult to plan than even the most complex of his campaigns.

And although it’s unlikely given the crowd of nerds that’ll be around, he couldn’t miss an opportunity to be in your company. He thought that maybe, just maybe, he’d manage to get you somewhat alone and do it today.

He’s tidied up the trailer as subtly as he can, doing all the dishes and straightening Wayne’s caps, hoping the others won’t notice and ask him awkward questions. But he’s jittery and anxious, terrified that you’ll take one look at where and how he lives and decide you want nothing more to do with him…

Eddie has no idea that you’re just as nervous as he is.

You’ve enjoyed the Hellfire campaigns so far, but haven’t really managed to get all that close to the Dungeon Master, much to your chagrin. Sure, the game is enormous fun and you love all the members and how welcoming they’ve been. But the DM? Holy hell, he’s hot as sin, and being able to spend time around the larger-than-life metal-lover only adds to your enjoyment of the sessions. But you can’t imagine it’ll ever go any further than that. You doubt that a geeky D&D novice who he’s hardly spoken to is his idea of the perfect girlfriend…

But god, the physical touches? Christ. It’s as much as you can do to hold it together. You’ve shared a few celebratory hugs, and he’s even tickled you a couple of times, all of which you’ve enjoyed far more than you’d let on, and filed away in your memory for retrieval when you’re alone at night in your bed. But you know that he’s like this with everyone, and are under no illusions that you’re special. So you relish each and every contact, wishing there could be more.

What if he looks at you for too long with those gorgeous, huge, chocolate-brown eyes? And what if you forget how to speak? It’s already happened an embarrassing amount of times, but you’ve managed to pass it off as being stumped because you’re a beginner. You don’t know for how much longer that excuse is gonna fly.

And, if all that wasn’t already enough to send your anxiety levels skyrocketing, you’re also acutely aware that you haven't spent time with any of the group outside of school as yet. You’re worried that you’re going to ruin their social dynamic, or mess up the game. Or embarrass yourself with no easy way to exit, having to wallow in your shame until the mums come back later to pick you all up. Your spiralling makes you realise that although it was really kind of Mrs Wheeler to offer you a lift, you’re now really wishing you’d brought your own car…

All kinds of anxious thoughts are running through your mind, from what if your ideas are stupid, to what if everyone (okay, specifically Eddie) dislikes the cookies you’ve baked??

Neither of you should’ve worried.

As you enter his trailer, Eddie seems a little flustered, running a ringed hand through his gorgeous chestnut waves and unnecessarily straightening a pile of magazines on the coffee table. He smooths down his (new) black tee (that he totally didn’t buy especially for this occasion), and you pay it no mind, assuming he’s just always like this with visitors, and is excited for the campaign.

You barely glance around Eddie’s home, smiling softly at the trinkets you spot, and offering to help plate up the snacks in the kitchen area. You don’t look uncomfortable, and you certainly don’t pass judgment. Eddie eyes you as indirectly as he can, noticing the unusual skirt you’ve got on (that you totally totally didn’t choose specifically for today). He likes it.

Just like at school, you slot easily into the melee of pencils, paper, dice and snacks. Everyone loves your home baked cookies, including Eddie, and Erica even badgers you for the recipe.

Eddie thinks you couldn’t be any more perfect.

You think this isn’t so bad after all, and relax a little.

The morning’s character building is going well, the fact that it’s a oneshot not diminishing anyone’s efforts or attention to detail.

You still haven’t quite got the hang of the dice and numbers parts, always asking for Eddie’s help with that. His help, not any of the others, he muses with a certain amount of pride and delight. (Selfishly, part of him secretly hopes you never get the hang of it, and will always need to seek his input.)

With you now added to the group, there aren’t enough seats at Eddie’s modest dining table. Nobody notices. Initially Dustin and Will are deep in a discussion on Eddie’s battered sofa, and Mike and Lucas are rifling through the fridge, both at that ‘hollow legs’ stage of teen development and constantly ravenous.

Your character’s almost done, and you just want to clarify a few things, so you ask across the table,

“Eddie? Can I bring this over for you to check please?”

He waves you over, putting on a fake English accent and saying,

“Of course you may, my dear. You know I’m always happy to assist my flock.”

You chuckle lightly at his endearing foolishness as you get up from your place next to Erica, taking your character sheet over to Eddie for his perusal. Behind you, the younger players all convene at the table to share their progress, and all the seats become filled.

With no free spots near him, and assuming you won’t be here for long, Eddie pats his leg absentmindedly and says, “Sit here, lemme see.”

You end up on his lap, facing sideways at ninety degrees.

You initially turn towards him and bring your sheet between you, but there’s not enough room for him to properly examine it, so you turn the other way and lay it on the table in front of him, turning so your back is to him, your legs straddling one of his knees. He leans forward and begins to check it over, confirming some details and asking for more particulars on others.

Eddie’s been admiring your enthusiasm and level of engagement all morning, and he’s impressed by the depth of information you’ve already managed to accumulate.

You’re absorbed with your new character, getting excited and gesticulating wildly. Ideas bounce easily between you and Eddie, his face smiling softly and his dimples popping as he gets to see you like this.

It doesn’t escape him, however, that you’re also bouncing on… him. He flushes a little, and hopes you don’t perceive it.

As you gesture at a particularly thorny issue on your paper, it dawns on Eddie exactly what parts of you are in contact with him, albeit through multiple layers of fabric. The softness of your thighs and the heat from your core against his leg fully absorb him for a moment, and he has to ask you to repeat yourself. You don’t seem to mind, assuming it was the general clamour in the room that meant he couldn’t hear you. That same clamour covers the sound of him awkwardly clearing his throat and gulping loudly.

It occurs to him that he’s never experienced anything… like this. Occasional hookups in the woods or after gigs at The Hideout are great and everything, but he’s never before felt like he has a literal, real-life angel sitting on his lap.

And you? You are slowly realising how nice Eddie’s lap feels beneath you. It’s warm and solid, and the denim of his dark jeans feels pleasantly rough on the skin of your legs where your skirt’s ridden up. There’s a pressure against your most intimate areas that’s generating a warm feeling of pleasure in your core. You’re trying to concentrate, but it’s not easy.

It takes a few more moments for you to catch up to where Eddie is, and you register that you’re essentially riding Eddie’s thigh each time you move.

Your lips roll inwards and you swallow deeply, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to compose yourself. It doesn’t help, and only serves to focus your attention even more fully on the delicious sensations beneath your legs. This is the closest you’ve ever been to your Dungeon Master, and for the longest time. And you can’t help how flustered it’s making you.

Embarrassed, you cough and go to stand, but quickly see that there’s nowhere for you to go. Eddie scans the room and notices your predicament, and, in a broken voice that’s almost unbearably soft, tells you, “It’s okay, Princess. You can stay here.”

Fuck. A pet name? You enjoyed that, perhaps a little too much. If you were being rational you could put it down to Eddie referencing your new character, who happens to be an aristocratic mage. But right now? Right now, you’re not feeling particularly rational.

You slowly sit back down, but as you do so Eddie shifts his position, causing you to spread your knees a bit wider than they were and land further up his leg, giving you even more contact with his thigh. You hope he didn’t hear the broken little hum that escaped you.

Eddie leans forward and in a voice that’s far too quiet, and far too close to your ear, he asks, “Are you… okay?”

You can barely breathe, and all you can manage in response is a tiny, squeaked, “Mhm.”

Behind you, Eddie takes a stuttering breath in, letting it out slowly before he resumes discussions with everyone else at the table.

You each become more unfettered as the morning progresses. Further not-so-accidental encounters only serve to increase the tension between you both.

At one point, you lean forwards over the table to get one of the manuals, lifting your butt from his leg. For a moment you hope there won’t be a visible wet patch on your skirt, or on his jeans. But then you wonder whether it would actually be so terrible if there was, and whether it would actually be so terrible if Eddie saw…

Eddie saw. He hums slightly, but it sounds more like a whimper, and he attempts to cover it by clearing his throat for the umpteenth time today.

He wonders whether you’re doing this on purpose, whether you have any idea what you’re doing to him.

As you settle back onto his thigh, one of Eddie’s hands travels to your hip, holding it lightly, just resting it there. A fire travels up that entire side of your body.

You wonder whether he’s doing this on purpose, whether he has any idea what he’s doing to you.

He leans forward to reach for something on the table, and this time brushes his chest against your back for far longer than is necessary. You feel his breathing against your neck speeding up, hot gasps coming from between his lips instead of controlled outbreaths through his nose.

You reach for a die, and as you sit back you half-intentionally push your core down onto Eddie’s leg just a little bit harder. God, he feels so good. And so what if you’ve moved backwards slightly, so your thigh is even further between his legs, and your butt nudges his crotch?

You definitely feel something hard pressing against your ass. The grip on your hip tightens, and Eddie dips his head forward to hide his face and stifle a moan. Christ.

You think you hear him mumble a quiet and stilted, “Sh-it.”

Eddie can barely contain himself, this morning not going at all how he could’ve even dreamed. He had no idea whether you even liked him, and was planning to sound you out and maybe manage to ask if you wanted to do something cheesy like grab milkshakes sometime.

Having you hot and wet on his lap wasn’t even on the edges of the outside of the periphery of his radar. He’s really trying to keep it together, but he’s barely maintaining a grip on his actions.

Attempting to focus, he leans forward again to explain a character point. You turn your head and look into his eyes attentively, whilst simultaneously rocking your hips ever so subtly and chewing on the inside of your bottom lip.

All at once, something shifts. Something big.

Eddie holds your gaze for way too long. Or maybe you hold his.

Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore, as you both silently acknowledge that there’s way more going on here than simple D&D advice.

Simultaneously, you both come to realise that your affections are most definitely reciprocated.

Shit, he likes me.

Fuck, she likes me back.

And then, as your eyes are locked and he sees your pupils blow wide, Eddie loses that tenuous grip.

Suddenly, both of his hands come to your hips, and he presses his forehead against one of your shoulder blades. He grips you tightly and moves you back and forth against him, squeezing, pulling, pushing, dragging. He’s keeping his movements as tiny as possible so as not to rouse the attention of the group, but what he lacks in expansiveness he more than makes up for with strength and intensity.

You think this might genuinely be the most erotic thing you’ve ever done with your clothes on. You’re hot and wet, and you barely care that you’re in a room full of people, supposedly playing a nerdy game.

Eddie keeps moving you. One exquisite movement spreads your sopping folds in your underwear, and your mouth drops open in a gasp, hand gripping the edge of the rickety table. You try to disguise your movements by shoving the end of a pencil into your mouth and hunching over your paperwork.

Eddie totally notices, and stills you. His warm palms continue to press against your hips, his strong fingertips digging into your flesh. Instead of continuing the back and forth movements, he pulls you down as hard as he can onto his lap whilst outwardly retaining his composure, turning the garbled sounds coming from his throat into encouraging noises for the group.

The two of you can barely focus anymore. Eddie hasn’t let his hands travel anywhere above the tabletop, lest his actions be seen by the others, but if your expression is even half as flustered as Eddie’s is red, somebody is going to notice something. And soon.

You take a couple of deep, steadying breaths.

You’ve already completed your character, so you decide to do a faux check in with Eddie, asking, not entirely innocently,

“Eddie? Is there anything else you’d want me to… take off?”

Turning, you add, even less subtly,

“What should I do now, Master?”

Eddie’s face screws up and his jaw clenches, and you feel the rock of his hips as he bucks his hips up underneath you, pressing his hardness into your flesh and muffling a grunt into your shoulder.

His head snaps back up suddenly and his voice becomes clear and piercing, as he inhales quickly and declares to the room, waving a hand,

“Okay, lunchtime! Everybody out!! You guys need some fresh air and I need a break. I don’t wanna see you for at least an hour, and you’d better come back with pizza! Goddit?”

The teens comply, bustling out the door, a few of them eye-rolling and grumbling something about how this is almost like being at home with their parents.

They’re still leaving as Eddie moves his face so close to you that you can feel his breath in your hairline, and his soft, pink lips tickle the edge of your ear.

In a low, velvety voice, he murmurs, in a tone that’s somehow both challenging and pleading,

“Please Princess, turn around and say that to my face...”

You smirk, and reach behind you to pick up a D12.

With all the sultriness you can muster, you raise your eyebrows and indicate for him to take it. He opens his hand, and you place it down, the tips of your fingers lightly skimming the hot, damp skin of his palm.

Looking into his eyes again, you’re relieved to discover that your power of speech remains entirely intact, as you murmur, with more confidence than you thought you possessed,

“Okay, Master. How about this? You roll, and the result is how many kisses you have to give me...”

Eddie swallows and almost chokes, sitting up straight and gently lobbing the die across the mess of paper and writing implements. His chocolate eyes don’t leave yours as it rolls and comes to a stop in the centre crease of one of his manuals. He struggles with the internal conflict of never wanting to break your gaze and a deep desire to check the number.

He has no idea where the rest of today, let alone this, is going, and he’s grateful he has at least the next hour in which to find out. But he does know one thing:

He’s never been so desperate to roll a 12 in his entire fucking life.

Thanks so much for reading!

(This might become part of an anthology of D&D-related adventures - let me know if you’d like to see more!)

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this, it’s honestly like throwing breadcrumbs and roses for your writers ��🥰

My masterlist

I have a general taglist now, let me know if you’d like to be on it 😃

Tags: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @curlyjoequinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @wonderlanddreamer

[usergreenpixel]

JACOBIN FICTION CONVENTION MEETING 4: IN THE REIGN OF TERROR: THE ADVENTURES OF A WESTMINSTER BOY(1888)

1. The Introduction

Well hello there again, dearest readers! I’m back at it again and this time I brought you something more obscure.

Honestly, I would’ve never found out about this book had I not seen the category for books set in the French Revolution era on Wikipedia after a deliberate google search.

“In the Reign of Terror” is an adventure novel aimed at young boys that was published in 1888 by one G. A. Henty, an English novelist who has other adventure novels to his name too, but today we’ll only take a look at this one.

It’s available on Project Gutenberg in the ebook format and is in public domain so it’s free to download, which is how I obtained the book.

2. The Summary

The book takes place in the French Revolution era, specifically from 1790 to about 1792. It tells the story of Harry Sandwith, a boy whose physician father sends him from London to Burgundy to live with Marquis de St. Caux and his family.

As the brother of the Marquis had been cured by Harry’s father during his stay in London, the entire arrangement was his idea. The Marquis himself also believes that by having an English companion, his sons can learn a lot about English customs while Harry learns the language and the traditions of France.

But as the Revolution is drawing nearer than ever, clouds gather above the heads of Harry’s host family and Harry himself...

This is the basic premise of the story, but how did the finished product turn out? Let’s find that out for ourselves, Citizens!

3. The Story

Now, at first the story itself seems a bit implausible on the level of the premise. The Marquis believes that his sons should learn a thing or two about masculinity and sports from Harry, as English boys are supposedly more manly than their “feminine” French peers.

I find it hard to believe that a French nobleman would think this way but I was still willing to suspend my disbelief somewhat because Anglophiles do exist and despite the rivalry between France and the UK, the two countries did borrow bits and pieces of culture from each other.

Here’s the part that gave me pause and kind of ruined the experience for me. The entire book reeks of a sense of English superiority. Harry, the main character, is English and is portrayed as the bravest, strongest and most masculine member of the cast, while his French companions, Ernest and Jules, the sons of the Marquis, are basically treated like feminine “sissies”.

(Spoiler alert!)

For example, in the beginning of Harry’s adventures, the daughters of the Marquis are attacked by a rabid dog and who saves them? Harry, of course. This is one of the instances where the author demonstrates how strong English boys are and this is the moment after which Harry is finally seen as an equal by the noble siblings.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all for patriotism and taking pride in your country. I’m Russian and proud of it. However, too much pride and you get this obnoxious sense of superiority. If you need a prime example of how that usually plays out, look at the Axis during WW2.

What Henty chooses to portray is specifically a sense of superiority. Characters like Harry’s father take pride in the fact that England has less strict class divisions, that apparently English commoners have already obtained more liberties while the French peasants are merely a mob of bloodthirsty savages, etc.

Don’t know about you, Citizens, but I really don’t like such narratives shoved in my face and considering how often this nationalism shows up, I had a lot of trouble getting through the story.

I’m all for healthy patriotism that acknowledges the good and the bad in one’s country but this is just too much nationalism for me and I believe that the book would’ve been more enjoyable without this narrative showing up every couple of pages or so like jumpscares in a bad horror movie.

4. The Characters

I know this was the 19th century so the audiences were probably not pampered with complex stories and characters as much yet, but honestly I didn’t find Harry a truly likable and relatable protagonist.

(Spoiler alert!)

He starts out as a pretty average school student but while in France he proves to be heroic - killing a rabid dog, slaying a man eating wolf (not completely by himself) and generally always proving himself to be the manly hero that Ernest and Jules can never be. Basically it was easy to predict that he will emerge from any trouble victorious so I didn’t have many reasons to be worried about him.

The sons and the daughters of the Marquis all end up liking him. Too much may I add.

In short, I personally got a bit of Harry Stu vibe. 😉

He does have one glaring flaw that unfortunately doesn’t do him any favors in my eyes. The English superiority complex that the author expresses in the story shines in Harry brighter than the Sun. He doesn’t express much empathy either.

(Spoiler alert!)

When Harry saves a man from getting attacked by an assassin and sees that the man is scared out of his mind, the first thing Harry feels towards him is disdain for apparently being a “pussy”. Um, hello, Harry?! How would you react if you got attacked out of the blue! Not everyone is as “strong and manly” as you are!

Then Harry also regrets saving the man when it turns out to be Robespierre. Our protagonist, dear Citizens!

Speaking of Robespierre, here (and this goes for most French characters) he is portrayed as a weak feeble “sissy”, thirsty for blood but neat and frugal in outfit and lifestyle, someone who won’t hesitate to have half of France slaughtered. Of course. 🙄

The female characters are bland helpless ingénues. Also typical of the literature of the time period.

By the way, Robespierre is the only revolutionary who is actually featured in the story. Marat and Danton are mentioned but it’s all negative in their department too, especially when it comes to Marat.

The Parisian crowd is little more than a bloodthirsty mob of savage uneducated peasants ready to slaughter all nobles just because they’re well, nobles.

Honestly, nothing new here.

5. The Setting

Honestly, I feel like there weren’t that many descriptions and those that were present simply weren’t vivid enough to immerse myself into the story. Too many descriptions are bad too, of course, but here the opposite happens - too little descriptions so sometimes the surroundings feel like vacuum and there’s not enough world building to imagine yourself in that era, beside the characters.

It’s all just bland caricatured setting one would expect from an amateur puppet show at daycare.

Remember, dear Citizens. Even if you write about your own era and country, world building is extremely important so please don’t underestimate the power of good and vivid descriptions, just use them in moderation.

Anyway, onto the final point.

6. The Conclusion

Despite all the drawbacks, I didn’t quite hate the book. I simply think it could’ve been written a lot better, without shoving the supposed superiority of England in our faces, without bland characters, without the unlikeable protagonist, without cardboard settings and definitely without machismo and layers upon layers of Thermidorian propaganda.

I wouldn’t recommend this story unless you really want to kill time and have nothing else to do.

With that in mind, allow me to conclude the fourth meeting of our Convention. Stay tuned for the announcement of the topic of the next meeting and have a good day, Citizens.

Love,

- Citizen Green Pixel

[lethendralis-paints]

Artist Meme

Was tagged to answer this set of interesting questions by @kourvo​

(original post is here: https://kourvo.tumblr.com/post/621355098110640128/artist-meme

Thank you so much for that!

Let’s see....

1) What is the character you've drawn the most (Can be original or fanart)

This precious boy. I can never get enough of him. One of the most compelling characters I have ever come across. Love everything about Fenris and can relate to him on so many levels!

2. What colour do you often use? 

Gray and brown are my faves. And all other colours have the same chance of appearing in my artwork :D

3. Any colour you are bad at using?

I don’t think so...I love them all, even the pinks and yellows people usually find hard to incorporate into a colour palette. Tell me in the comments if I’m wrong :)

4. When drawing people, where do you start? 

Funnily enough - either with the front of the hairline or with the left eyebrow. Don’t ask me, why - I don’t know myself.

5. What is a character only your eraser will love?

Hmmmm...any sort of villainous character. I can’t draw evil people convincingly. I’m a huge softy at heart.

6. Which of your works took the longest time? 

Big scale commission I did for @pikapeppa​, featuring all the Inquisition companions, along with Fenris, Rynne and Carver Hawke. That one took almost 3 weeks, due to its sheer scope and my relative lack of experience in such large works. Pika was extremely patient with me though, for that I am eternally thankful!

7. What techniques do you use when you want to improve in drawing? 

Classical art studies. Varying my technique, themes I choose and software I use. I try to experiment and go outside my comfort zone often.

8. What do you think of the art of the person who gave you this ask meme? 

I adore Lillymon’s technical skill, refined style and limited colours! She is a huge inspiration for me!

9. What art tools/media are you good with? 

DrawPile, Photoshop, graphite pencils and liners. That’s about it :)

10. Art tools/media you are bad at? 

Traditional paints. I have no formal artistic education and my lack of knowledge comes to the forefront whenever I have to paint on a real canvas. It’s so much trial and error, you can’t even imagine....

11. What do you think about your own art? 

Lately it’s one of the last few things that were bringing me joy. I hope I won’t lose the passion for it. Because at this point I’m not sure I’ll be able to find some occupation I will be genuinely interested in and good at it. I don’t know if me gravitating towards moody fantasy art speaks about my fear of facing reality. If so, idk what to do with that. I do hope to develop my skills and being able to support myself financially as an artist.

12. Do you consult references for your drawings? 

Yes. A lot of them. Anatomical atlases, schemes for both academic and manga art, photographs found online and taken on my own, copying colour palettes from classical art - anything goes. I think it’s essential to develop your technical skill.

13. What do you like about your art? 

Lately - consistency, both in terms of produced results and in sticking to the timelines I set to myself. I hope this lasts. I would also like to branch out to other themes and not confine myself to quirky fantasy characters, so I’m working on developing my own story behind the scenes (spoilers) :P

14. What habits do you have while drawing?

Only the bad ones, lol. Hunching forward in front of the screen, forgetting to eat, drink and letting my eyes rest. Tilting my head to the side instead of rotating the canvas....I’m an idiot XD

15. Are you good at drawing faces facing right? 

I think that’s the thing I’m good at!

16. How frequently do you draw? 

For the last 1,5 years - almost every day without fail, for good or ill.

17. What do you do when you have artist's block? 

Change occupation and work myself into a depressed state. I changed work places in the last few years a lot, working as an interior designer, draftsman, textile designer, a cook, a bartender to name a few.

18. What must you have when you draw? 

No commotion around me and a cup of some hot beverage.

19. Do you have a lot of stray lines (messy lineart)? 

In the starting stage of my work process - yes, like you wouldn’t believe! If it’s a personal doodle, I sometimes just leave in as am under layer and draw clean lines on top of that mess. It looks cool in a way.

20. What is drawing to you?

An essential part of what helped me to retain my sanity in the last year and a half. Hopefully a lasting profession that will help me pay bills and survive on my own, if my life falls apart entirely later.

21. Your art goal from now on? 

Broaden the themes I depict, improve my technical skill, work on personal creative project and not only fan arts. And most of all - not giving up on it this time.

22. Artists you've had influence from? 

To name a few: @kallielef​ @kourvo​ @shayafury​ @fairsparrow​ who I met here on Tumblr, and many others who I follow and zealously study their works for clues on how to improve my own work.

23. Artists you like? 

I am following them all either here or on Instagram, I also do my best to share their works on my side blog!

24. Which is easier to draw, humans or animals? 

It was animals earlier. But now that I started to diligently study human anatomy, I would say it evened out! I’m quite confident drawing humans/humanoids now!

25. Show us an old drawing 

My first digital drawing from 2010 when I first bought my tablet!

26. What is the charm-point of your art?

I ummm....I don’t really get the question? Is that like the the strongest suit of me as an artist? Intense expressions maybe? Idk. Let me know in the comments :D

27. What is the first thing you would draw if we're talking about fantasy? 

Broody warriors, he-he

28. Please draw your most beloved character:

Here’s a sneak-peek of me drawing him right now! :D

29. When thinking of characters is it mostly female? male? or androgynous/no sex? 

I usually gravitate towards depicting strong-willed, caring, passionate, brave, honest men and women.

30. What did you draw yesterday? 

Started cleaning up that sketch from the last question, actually!

31. What is the funnest part to draw? 

A circle. Mostly because you’d die laughing seeing my struggle to draw a believable one XD

32. What part of other people's drawings do you notice first? 

colours, mood, eyes, hands.

33. Regarding backgrounds, what is your method of making it easier to draw? 

pick your favourite textured brush, find a good reference for mood and colour scheme, zoom out, squint your eyes and start slapping colours like mad. You’d be amazed at how much you’ll be able to achieve in 30 minutes with this approach. Bare white background is the enemy - destroy it! >:)

34. What colour coordinations do you like? 

Gray or brown as a main colour and then deep, earthy, saturated colours to complement the main one. Pink and orange is the combination I strangely enjoy using lately too.

35. What character did you last draw? Fenris and Eris :)

36. Does your style change easily? 

I don’t think so. More like it’s evolving slowly into something more serious and deliberate.

37. What part of drawing do you pay most attention to? 

Facial expression, body movement, mood and light effects. Not so much the composition and framing, he he.

38. How do you feel about drawing adult art? 

Tbh, I don’t consider straight up porn to be ‘adult’ exactly. To me adult art means aiming towards serious topics, exploring complex emotions and ideas, being honest with your viewer. I did doodle a few more steamy sketches of my OTP just to see if I could, but it was definitely a tongue-in-cheek kind of a artwork that I don’t take seriously.

39. Do you like criticism from others? 

If it’s friendly and in done in private - I welcome it always.

40. How many people do you normally draw per artwork? 

1 or 2. Rarely more. Crowded battle scenes are definitely not my thing :D

This was fun! Tagging forward to @shayafury​ @schoute​ @stella-minerva​ @nug-juggler​ @kallielef​ and anyone else wishing to go through such a long questionnaire!

[shemakesmusic-uk]

Wallice has shared her subversive new single 'Hey Michael'. 'Hey Michael' amplifies her blood-thirsty nature, a revenge anthem that finds Wallice turning into a worse villain than her erstwhile love interest. A song about toxic tendencies and how they manifest in our lives, 'Hey Michael' twists and turns around American Psycho imagery. Wallice labels "a revenge anthem for anyone who has encountered a gaslighting, manipulative person. It’s what I wish I would have said to all the ‘Michael’s’ I have met in my life. It can be substituted by many names, we all know or have met a ‘Michael’ though. Somehow the world revolves around them and they just can’t catch a break, because they never do anything wrong and it’s usually your fault. You should have listened to your gut instinct and swiped left on this Michael. This isn’t a man-hating song, it’s just something many people can relate to. Sometimes it’s embarrassing to admit just how bad a friend, date, or romantic partner was and a lot of the time, I would just smile and laugh off stupid remarks but when I think back, I wish I had told them off. But at the same time, my persona in the song is not the best person either. I literally say: I think I want to start a fight, which one is your girlfriend? The whole song is funny because I am so focused on how shitty Michael is that I don’t even think about how shitty I might be as well." Directed by Phil Stillwell, the video takes place at a house party, with Wallice interacting with various 'Michaels' before her behaviour spirals into something much, much worse. [via Clash]

In the same vein as Massive Attack’s suburban groove and social commentary in the mid 90’s, KITA have captured the rhythm and heartbeat of suburban Pōneke; a city abuzz with a vibrant music and dramatic performance scene in their brand new track and official video, ‘Private Lives’. Weaving together elements of vintage rock, pop and soul, and warm hints of synth, KITA have created a skin-prickling piece of magic with ‘Private Lives’, a deeply beautiful track penned in 2020’s lockdown, that delves into the unknown of what happens when the blinds are shut – the parts of life that are unseen by others. "Standing from my kitchen window during lockdown in Aotearoa, sinister thoughts entered my mind about what could be happening behind closed doors for people”, says front-woman Nikita 雅涵 Tu- Bryant. The video tells the story of a father and daughter’s relationship amongst snapshots of everyday life and its monotonous anonymity, while things aren’t always what they appear on the surface. Late at night the father can finally reveal his true self, adorning makeup and sequins, only to be spied by his daughter. The two then share a special moment of dressing up and dancing together, a true celebration of individuality, self-love and the beauty of self-expression.

'Just Chemistry' is the third single from Dance Lessons, a London-based, female-fronted and produced trio, creating what they define as Serrated Pop. 'Just Chemistry' is a delicate hymn to the unspoken. Dance Lessons return with their signature sound – minimal production, sleek vocals and intricate arrangements. Ann says: “'Just Chemistry' is about the over-complication of our relationships. It’s about the things that are left unsaid in-between the awkward text messages and conversations, and how the absence of knowing can be misinterpreted as doubt. Last year was a difficult one. For a long time, I felt at the mercy of my emotions. I doubted where things were going. I lived in the future and found it hard to commit to the present. But these moments of not knowing can be equally thrilling and beautiful. And that’s what the song is about: finding beauty in the unspoken. In most cases, it’s chemistry that makes us fall in love. Things end, all is temporary. Let’s not go to war with one another over it.” Nat says on the video: “A friend told us about this weird and wonderful house in North London that feels a little like stepping into an acid trip. We obviously wanted to check it out. It’s completely surreal, all over the place (in a great way) and generally eclectic, which felt inherently us. We instantly wanted to do something there and asked the owner for permission to shoot a music video. We filmed during lockdown and were let loose embracing all the oddness of it. Ann also designed and created the outfit she wears in the video, something she does with most of her wardrobe. It was shot, directed and edited by our hugely talented friends Ben Hanson and Simon Frost from Borderland Studios.”

Returning with her first offering of the year, North London’s rising star Laurel Smith is ready to reveal her anticipated new single, ‘Out the Cage’ accompanied by an action packed and thrilling cinematic style music video directed by Jeremie Brivet and Jai Garcha. Sticking to her winning recipe of moody, dark, electro-pop production paired with effortlessly edgy tales of narrative lyricism, ‘Out the Cage’ is the next huge single from the young, innovative artist that is sure to follow the same trajectory of success as its predecessor, ‘Game Over’ released late last year. A songwriter and recording artist, Laurel Smith has been writing songs since the age of sixteen. With each single she’s released, Laurel has continued to adapt her sound and aesthetic, consistently honing her craft and evolving her brand. She has carefully carved out her place in an ever crowded industry and proceeds to turn heads at every corner. “‘Out The Cage’ is a song about breaking out from your constraints, both physical and mental. Although it can be interpreted in any way, when I wrote it I created a story around a bored housewife, falling out of love with her husband, she fantasises about tying him up and leaving him to be a badass assassin in a video game type world, roaming the city at night and living a life of unpredictability and excitement”.

Hailing from the Philippines, singer-songwriter Laica is coming off a breakout 2020. Now the 21-year-old is gearing up for the release of her debut album I’m so fine at being lonely. The first single off the project, 'love u lately' is here, accompanied by a music video directed by Cooper Leith. 'Love u lately' is a relatable and infectious track. The song revolves around dating, understanding mixed signals, and the confusion that surrounds that world. Lyrically, Laica walks us through her experiences here, voicing her thoughts and frustrations about someone who she just can't seem to read right. Production-wise, the track is carried by a pulsing synth and a groovy bass. Together, the track feels upbeat. The vibe created by the production stands in contrast with the more emotional lyrics, making the track complex and interesting. The music video takes the concept of 'love u lately' to the extreme, in a fun and playful way. Laica is seen capturing her dream boy and attempting to use witchcraft to finally win him over. The video has a very DIY feel, which could serve to add to the reliability of the track. It’s a great extension of the track and taps into everyone’s most fantasy-driven realities. [via Earmilk]

At first, Emily C Browning wasn't sure what to think. Spurned, rejected, and cast aside, she was angry, furious, and - at times - utterly bereft. Usually she'd utilise songwriting as a vessel for her emotions, but when she was so conflicted, and feeling so negative, that it just didn't enter her mind. The Christchurch, New Zealand artist needed to take a step back, and when she located some perspective, she was ready to act. New single 'I Wasn't Into You Anyway' is a soaring slice of revenge, one that finds Emily C Browning taking full control of her music. Her first solo production credit, its reminiscent of those surging, empowering Maggie Rogers bops, while also containing similar DNA to Sharon Van Etten's work. Lyrically, it's absolutely her own creation, with Emily leaning on those often-hidden feelings. She comments... "Everyday for a month I wrote in my journal: I want to write a song about feeling rejected. But I couldn’t figure out how to keep it light and funny, it can be quite a painful topic and I didn’t want to sound too heavy. But I kept working on it everyday and came up with this song. I then spent another month recording it, trying to capture a sound that stayed upbeat and playful. I put so much time and energy into the song that I ended up completely forgetting about the person who rejected me in the first place (honest, I swear)." [via Clash]

Alt-pop force Holly Humberstone returns with new single 'Haunted House'. The songwriter's potent debut EP Falling Asleep At The Wheel was a sensation, racking up more than 100 million global streams. A bona fide phenomenon, Holly returns with a single that displays a more nuanced, reflective side to her work. 'Haunted House' digs into childhood, and looks at the way memory can frame the way we construct our identities. She comments: "I wrote this song about the old and characterful house I grew up in. The house is such a huge part of who I am and our family. With my sisters and I moving out and living separate lives, coming home feels very comforting and one of the only things keeping us all connected." Playing with concrete imagery and no small degree of invention, 'Haunted House' connects art to life in an enchanting fashion. She adds: "The house is almost falling down around us now though, and we’ve realised that pretty soon we’ll be forced to leave. There’s a cellar full of meat hooks and a climate so damp mushrooms grow out of the walls. Loads of people have probably died here in the past but I’ve always felt really safe. It’s like a seventh family member. It’s part of me." [via Clash]

In 2019, the Boston-born and Brooklyn-based indie rock album Crumb released their debut album Jinx. Crumb haven’t yet announced plans to follow that album up, but they’re definitely working towards something. Last month, the band came out with a one-off single called 'Trophy.' Now, they’ve followed that one with two new tracks, and they’re both winners. The new songs 'BNR' and 'Balloon' both fit nicely into Crumb’s comfort zone. The band’s sound is a rich, sophisticated take on psychedelia, with blissed-out lead vocals from Lila Ramani and with some great funky drum action. The band co-produced both songs with Foxygen’s Jonathan Rado, who’s done great recent work with people like Father John Misty and Weyes Blood and the Killers and who knows how to make oblique ’70s-style pop sound good. But Crumb themselves deserve a ton of credit for coming up with a sound this layered and weird. They’re the rare circa-2021 band who might remind you of Broadcast. In a press release, Ramani says, “‘BNR’ is an ode to my favorite colors. I had a weird obsession with those colors in winter 2018-2019 and felt like they would follow me around everywhere I went." 'BNR' also has a cool music video. Director Joe Mischo starts the clip off as a hallucinatory reverie, but he turns it sharply towards horror at the end. [via Stereogum]

Last year, Limerick poet/musician Sinead O’Brien released her debut EP, Drowning In Blessings. It was a unique work, a handful of songs featuring O’Brien’s sing-speak over spindly, post-punk guitars. It garnered O’Brien a bit of buzz overseas, and it left you wondering where she might take her music from there. Now, O’Brien’s back with a new song called 'Kid Stuff.' “‘Kid Stuff’ shows up all different tones on different days,” O’Brien said in a statement. “There’s something alive in it which cannot be caught or told. It is direct but complex; it contains chapters. This feels like our purest and most succinct expression yet.” Like Drowning In Blessings, 'Kid Stuff' found O’Brien working with Speedy Wunderground mastermind Dan Carey. Musically, it hints at a level up moment for O’Brien. There was something alluring and jagged about Drowning In Blessings, but 'Kid Stuff' places her usual approach over a song that is surprisingly groovy — maybe even a little danceable. It comes with a video directed by Saskia Dixie. [via Stereogum]

Das Beat are made up of German actress and vocalist Eddie Rabenberger and Agor of Blue Hawaii. The pair have just shared their first single 'Bubble' online now and are set to release their debut EP Identität on June 4 via Arbutus Records. Born in Berlin during 2020’s legendary lockdown, Das Beat seeks to blast both boredom and boundary. Dabbling in German New Wave, Italo Disco, Indie & Dance, their sound is unified by vocals from Eddie Rabenberger, sung in German and English. Amidst playful lyrics one finds a strong underlying pulse (das “beat”), pinning down the duo’s meandering atmospherics, dreamy synths, guitars and percussion. The duo is half-Canadian and half-German. Agor (of Blue Hawaii), moved to Berlin from Montreal in 2018. Eddie is a theatre actress originally hailing from a small town in Bavaria. Together they find a strange but alluring symbiosis - like Giorgio Moroder meets Nico, or Gina X Performance meets The Prodigy.

St. Vincent has fully embraced the ’70s aesthetic for her retro-sounding new record, Daddy’s Home. Now, she’s diving headlong into the animation styles of the era with the video for 'The Melting of the Sun'. Presented as a “betamax deluxe release” rip from “Candy’s Music Video Archives,” the clip blends live action shots of St. Vincent herself with the wavy, intermittent animation frames any Schoolhouse Rock student is familiar with. The psychedelic lines fit a song called 'The Melting of the Sun' perfectly, as do the drawings of the legends mentioned in the song’s lyrics like Nina Simone, Joni Mitchell, and Tori Amos. St. Vincent co-directed the clip with Bill Benz, while Chris McD provided the animation. [via Consequence]

Bay Area slowcore trio Sour Widows have released a new single, 'Bathroom Stall,' from their forthcoming EP Crossing Over, which they announced last month with its title track. The song’s build-up is subtle and poignant like Sufjan Stevens, but Maia Sinaiko’s evocative, sweeping vocals are one-of-a-kind, and the lyrics are graphic and tragic: “Do you remember it like I do?/ Your lips turned blue I had my fingers in your mouth/ And I couldn’t get them out.” Sinaiko said of the song: "This song is about a relationship I had with someone who struggled with addiction, who very tragically passed away three years ago while we were together. It’s about some moments we shared, and how it feels to walk around carrying that person and those experiences with me while the world stays normal. I wrote the song because I wanted to preserve and document what happened to me. to write out the scary stuff and just let it sit there forever. I think its funny that its called 'Bathroom Stall' and that it has that image in it: the song goes from heavy and dark to ordinary and totally pedestrian in a sentence, which feels absurd. And that’s kind of what it’s like to grieve. That’s kind of what’s hard to explain about grief, how absurd it is. Part of you goes to a different planet and part of you stays walking around like an alien on Earth, going to the bathroom and looking at the moon and shit." [via Stereogum]

As JUNO-nominated singer Kandle Osborne prepares to launch her new project, Set The Fire this spring, she shares the album’s third single, 'Misty Morning.' From being penned on a napkin while abroad to a Vancouver studio, 'Misty Morning' is a sonic journey that echoes soulful vulnerability and an honest reflection of realizing true love. For the video, Kandle reconnects with 'Honey Trap' director, Brandon William Fletcher, to create classic 40s noir-inspired cine-magic, filmed along the Vancouver coastline and within the lush landscape of Stanley Park. Kandle says: “‘Misty Morning’ is my first real love song, captured on a napkin while in Ischia, Italy when I was truly happy. My songwriting usually comes from a place of turmoil and catharsis, but this was simply a snapshot of a perfect, vulnerable moment. In recording it, I wanted to hide behind lush orchestration, but my producer/ best friend Michael Rendall had other ideas. He wanted to strip it down to just piano & a single vocal to take me out of my comfort zone and re-capture the open-hearted feelings I had while writing it. The song and the recording both hold for me a time when I dropped my guard for pure authentic love in spite of all my flaws and failures. In that moment, I felt my true value as a whole person for the first time.”

On 'Vertigo,' Alice Merton’s first single of 2021, the 27-year-old describes the long road from uncertainty back to self-confidence. It emphasizes the unrest that seizes her again and again, the thought: “Why can’t I just let it go?” These contradicting thoughts and emotions that are so familiar to all of us sum up to an overwhelmingly positive effect - 'Vertigo' leaves you empowered rather than anxious: A powerful indie pop arrangement with distorted guitars, plus Alice Merton’s crystal-clear voice. The result is reminiscent of the British Invasion, with no air of self-doubt. With its energetic live qualities, 'Vertigo' feeds an appetite for summer festivals and concerts that will definitely return at some point. Largely responsible for this is the Canadian producer Koz, a multiple Grammy nominee, who has worked with Dua Lipa ('Physical') among others. Here, too, he adds on to what has already made Alice Merton stand out from the crowd in the past - her classic pop appeal - with an uncompromising and indie attitude. This enables Alice to take another big step: She equally encourages a shaken generation and herself that there will be easy summers again. That you can dance again and lie in each other's arms. That it is absolutely fine to have many facets, to not always be clear, and that strength and weakness are not mutually exclusive.

Canadian artist Olivia Lunny's new release 'Sad To See You Happy' is a shamelessly poppy track centering an acutely relatable break-up narrative. The Canadian artist follows up her breakthrough success with a bouncy cut to soundtrack 2021’s long-awaited spring. There's a relatable tale of break-up at the heart of the gloriously poppy new single, belied by percussive instrumentation that creates a warm, nostalgic feel. [via Line Of Best Fit]

After sharing the single last month, Charlotte Adigéry is now revealing the brand new video for ‘Bear With Me (and I’ll stand bare before you)’. The first new music since her 2019 debut EP Zandoli, Charlotte says of the video, “The video is about being confined thus confronted to the way we live. The cruel irony of having the privilege of standing still, questioning and observing my life in all safety while others are fighting for theirs. On the other hand, the video is about trying to stay sane while feeling that the walls are closing in on you. Embracing boredom and finding joy in the little things in life.” Director Alice Kunisue adds, “When I listened to Charlotte’s song and what it meant for her and Bolis, I wanted the video to visually encapsulate that feeling of being stuck inside and confronted to our deeper selves while paradoxically sensing the chaos going on in the outside world without being able to do anything about it. Choosing to film an apartment room from one single angle was a way to reflect that narrowness of thought that we all experienced, but also a constraint that allowed us to explore and develop visual ideas within a narrow system, in a way having to think only inside the box, which artistically was a fun challenge.” [via DIY]

Millie Turner has shared a video for ‘Concrete Tragedy’. It’s a cut from her upcoming mini-album Eye Of The Storm, set for release on May 16, which also features a rework of breakout song ‘(Breathe) Underwater’. “This video is a visual representation of dancing on your own,” she says of the clip. “Combining the many parts of who we are when we’re by ourselves, I wanted it to feel like you’re entering a world of imagination that comes alive when we express ourselves.” [via Dork]

Doja Cat and SZA have come together for a new single called 'Kiss Me More.' When the song was announced Wednesday night, the internet flipped out, which is to be expected with these two — especially Doja Cat, who is regularly going viral these days for all kinds of reasons. When it comes to collaborations, she always finds the best people. That includes Saweetie, who appeared on Doja’s recent 'Best Friend' but then claimed that it was released against her wishes. Given SZA’s long history of public frustration over TDE Records holding back her new album, she is probably happy to have any new music out. Despite recent single 'Good Days' hitting the top 10, her restless fanbase is still awaiting a follow-up to 2017’s iconic Ctrl. 'Kiss Me More' is the first single from Doja’s new album Planet Her, scheduled for release this summer. It returns to the disco vibes of Doja’s #1 hit 'Say So,' this time with no apparent resemblance to any Skylar Spence song. [via Stereogum]

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙 𝕌𝕡♡

Hi! Can I have a male KNB matchup? She/Her. I have a small body and even smaller chest which I used to be fine with but now frustrates me. My butt makes up for it though. I also have wide hips so even though I’m skinny I still have some shape which could pass off as slim-sexy.

I’m introverted and reserved. I prefer to spend time by myself just reading. To most, I’m unassuming, shy, and incapable of carrying myself out there or doing assigned task. That’s because I’m easily flustered and embarrassed. It’s not like I can’t talk to guys at all, but I’m very conscious of them particularly if it’s someone I like. I’m not a pushover though. I’m actually very unlike what outsiders think of me as (kind & sweet). Although I’m those things too, I’m really a strong-headed person and very opinionated. I’m not one to take shit from anybody. I try to hold my feelings in for the sake of others, but I’m not a patient person by any means. So I say what’s on my mind, not often guilty that it makes me seem like a warfreak or disrespectful. I don’t give chances easily. I don’t trust someone again who committed a serious mistake knowing that once that person has done it once, he could do it again.

I’m a harsh critique on a variety of things like fictions, arts, movies. I don’t like wasting time by lingering on badly written/drawn ones. I’m also a harsh judge of people. Maybe because I have inferiority complex that’s why sometimes I can’t help but bring people down. I’m a selfish and spiteful person. Sometimes I’m incorrigible to the point that I toy around with people if they pissed me off enough. Maybe it’s because I’ve always felt like I don’t matter as much simply because I’m younger than everybody which makes me act out. You could say I’m the black sheep of the family. I feel like I’m not good enough and I’m so bothered that I haven’t accomplished anything at all in life. I’m jealous of other people when they’re better than I am. I think of myself as a dark person due to my personality and my thoughts. I have lots of insecurities and could really get in a slump for weeks. I can’t talk to anybody about these things which is why I get depressed and lonely sometimes.

I’m lazy and sloppy and disorganized, but when I put my mind to it I’m actually a harder worker than anybody which makes me happy when I get acknowledgement for it. I’m quite ambitious. On good days, I’m quite normal and actually amenable and pleasant. My dad and I are often not on good terms, but I’m happy when I get to spend some time with my other family members since those moments are rare. I get happy when I get to buy a good book, or a notebook because I keep a diary and also write a few things. I like survival games. I can be an airhead most of the time.

When it comes to my sexuality, I’m into guys but I admit I’ve admired a woman’s body and have fantasized about women too. But it’s all physical attraction since I’ve never liked a female romantically. I crush on guys easily. I’m drawn to bad boys (both the street-smart a**holes and the calculating, manipulative ones), but I also like cold and brooding tsundere guys. Romance is good too but I’m a closet pervert and quite adventurous with these things that’s why I prefer someone who’s dominating, a little arrogant (as long as they have something to be arrogant for) and can make me feel desirable.

I hope that’s okay and thank you!

»»————-　♡　————-««

Hello sweetie~! Thanks so much for requesting with us and I hope you’re doing okay~! I can most definitely do this match-up for you~! I hope you enjoy who I’ve paired you with~!

» » Admin Ko

𝕀 𝕊𝕙𝕚𝕡 𝕐𝕆𝕌 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙…

ʜɪᴍᴜʀᴏ ᴛᴀᴛꜱᴜʏᴀ

Quiet and reserved, Himuro mixes well with your introverted self. He has a decent understanding of how you think and feel when it comes to crowds of people, and enjoys the simple times with one’s self. Despite the assumptions of being shy with a lack of spark in initial meetings, Himuro has a knack for picking out individuals who aren’t exactly who they may seem to be from first glance.

He finds it endearing how you can be flustered and easily embarrassed when talking to someone of interest. Though of course he won’t admit it, but he does tend to get a tad jealous when your attention is anywhere but on him. As stated previously, Himuro has a knack for having a keen sense for the unexpected attitudes from people, and isn’t all too surprised to see the strong and opinionated person that comes forth from you. If anything, he’s able to combat that in his own calm and factual self. Though make no mistake, he can be wound up tightly in his own emotions as well.

With opinions and ideals, he’ll listen to what you have to say with respect, even if he happens to not agree with them, but there may be times where ideals and opinions clash and collide. Though of course a proper sit down and calm talk with one another will usually alleviate the situation. When it comes to mistakes, or wrong doings, Himuro-- in a sense-- is similar to you. Mainly in aspects of having a hard time trusting others, but being a touch more lenient on giving a second chance.

After all, he knows that individuals can gradually change and learn from their mistakes through time. Especially after witnessing the GoM being brought back to reality. As for critiquing works, Himuro is very much similar to you in those aspects. He won’t waste time on anything that doesn’t have a good or well developed plot with nicely written characters, but tends to hold back on judging others. Mainly because he understands that not all can achieve perfection on the first try.

With that, he tries to help ease and work with your inferiority complex. With his manipulative and cunning tactics, he’ll most definitely weave emotions into his facts that he gives you in hopes of helping you understand that there’s no point in bringing others down, when so many can help bring you up. He personally dislikes the toying of other people; mainly because it reminds him of his own past and others that he’s met while playing basketball, and doesn’t want you to be painted as a villain in others’ eyes. 

It’s without a doubt that Himuro will constantly be complimenting you or giving you genuine compliments in hopes of helping your self hate. The destruction and pain of that path being familiar to him, and he doesn’t want you to fall even further into it.

As for affection, he can be a bit of a taunting asshole. He most definitely enjoys seeing you riled up, and doesn’t mind indulging in giving you the affection you desire. Though a majority of the time, he can be a touch aloof and nonchalant when you try to gain his attention. Though trust he won’t really let you out of his sight. He’s more than clever enough to keep a game of cat and mouse going for as long as he’d like. 

[ryanmeft]

Movie Review: High Life

I have a confession: this is the second Claire Denis film I have seen. You do not have to shame me for this: I am very prepared to shame myself. Having been absorbed completely by White Material and Isabelle Huppert’s portrayal therein of a woman so out of touch it was amazing she could tie her shoes, I continually added movies such as Let the Sunshine In and Beau Travail to my DVD.Com queue, only to get in the mood for a silent comedy and push them down the list. I watched Denis’ latest the other day, and you may be happy to know I have put Sunshine near the top and will be leaving it there.

This isn’t necessarily because High Life is a great film. There are things within it that can make even the most patient, most wine-sniffing art film snob slosh their fermented grapes impatiently, and I am about as far from that crowd as one can get; I’m an off-puttingly blunt midwesterner at heart, and there were times I wanted to turn it off. I didn’t, because it gave me something I crave like a drug, the very reason I watch so many movies, including this one, sight unseen: something I wasn’t expecting. No, better: something I never could have expected, because I could not have predicted it. It is a film where convicts set loose in space under the false pretenses of investigating a black hole cope with sex, loneliness, ambition, and parenthood. In service of this somewhat meaningless plot description, it includes a scene in which Juliette Binoche uses a sex machine and ceiling straps to imagine herself in coitus with a person in an animal suit.

If you read that sentence and thought “I’ll never see another film like this one”, and you liked that thought, you may understand why I’m going to give this movie a high rating despite an uneven execution. It stars, primarily, Robert Pattinson and Binoche as two of the convicts. We learn what Binoche’s character, a fertility-obsessed doctor named Dibs, did through dialogue; we get flashbacks to what Pattinson’s Monte did, which is for my money one of the film’s missteps. I was enthralled by Dibs’ story precisely because I had to take her word on it. The film begins with Monte, who has the charge of a baby girl named Willow, jettisoning the deceased bodies of his fellow crew out into space. It then skips back, showing how things reached that state, then forward to when Willow is a teenager, and sometimes it jumps back and forth between these times. What happened and how, questions of whether Monte is the girl’s father, become less important than the cadences of life on the ship, the push and pull of death and life. The latter is often represented by sexual fluids, those of both sexes, which the film is not shy about.

Before anyone groans with disgust at that, I want to remind you that nearly all of us laughed at a movie where semen was used as hair gel. We have little issue with the stuff of life and biology being on screen, as long as we are kept at a comfortably vague angle to it. I admit I flinched the first time the results of someone’s pleasure were seen; pop culture has conditioned me well. Yet these things are not in service to bawdy jokes or even cheap lustful thrills, but to the depiction of patterns of life. Dibs takes the sexual and reproductive measures of those on board---hostile, fiery Boyse (Mia Goth), forceful and demanding Chandra (Lars Eidinger), clinical and removed Nansen (Agata Buzek), grounded and pragmatic family man Tcherny (Andre Benjamin)---yet she gets close to no one, in any way, and lets cold machines take care of her needs. Pattinson’s Monte has moved to the opposite end of coldness, having declared celibacy---there’s a concept not much seen on film screens---an act with a dozen layers. He engages in the unavoidable human need for nurturing by working in the ship’s garden, and his non-sexual attitude is informed by higher awareness, as he seems the only person on board fully aware of and at peace with the truth of his own exile. Pattinson, sex symbol to millions of teenage female libidos of all ages, plays here a father who does not have sex. As he has done in indie roles from The Rover to Good Times, he continues to show how much more he is than fantasy characters. When he once again spends years in that realm as Batman, I will feel a bit cheated, though likely not for the same reasons as your average SDCC attendee.

The fact that High Life contrasts inspirational poster ideas of space against the true savagery of man elevates it as a philosophical piece, putting it in a camp adjacent to 2001. I say adjacent because Denis and her shifting team of co-writers don’t always manage to keep their grip on the material. The scene with Binoche I described above is an ideal example: by itself, it is daring simply to have it in there, to go against perceived notions of sex, especially sex that women have. In the context of the film, it feels like Denis daring you not to turn it off or look away, while trying her damnedest to do something that will make you do just that. She is forcing the audience to call her bluff. She almost seems to apologize for being so far out in left field when, later in the film, Monte gets the cliche catharsis of beating a scumbag half to death. The movie flows from outrageously daring challenges to moments of mundane cinematic complacency, as if Denis wants to shock you but then immediately regrets it once you start out of the room. Sometimes, both types of sequence work in context; Monte’s funeral for the crew successfully drives the plot and the curiosity, all the way through an ending whose ambiguity is necessary and a little frustrating. Sometimes scenes work, stop working and work again while they are still happening. I was enthralled either way, and as always I would rather watch a messy-but-fascinating film than an orderly-but-boring one.

It is a bit odd coming from a devotee of Ray Bradbury, but there may be nothing I hate more in science fiction that the overly optimistic, risk-and-lesson-free pop of things like Chris Nolan’s Interstellar or Ridley Scott’s The Martian. They left my mind as soon as I left the theatre. The old masters wrote hopeful stories of the future tinged with inevitable, creeping horror; a thing like The Martian Chronicles would be poorly received today, people throwing the book down in disgust at the morally complex ending. What a terrible, tragic waste of a genre mainstream science fiction has become, a world in which we learn no lessons nor much of anything else. Whatever bits of Denis’ work here don’t, well, work, the reality is that she has made a movie that will live in my head, warts and all, for years to come. Now to get to the rest of that queue.

Verdict: Highly Recommended

Note: I don’t use stars, but here are my possible verdicts.

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid like the Plague

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 All images are property of the people what own the movie.

[what-even-is-thiss]

I wrote a creative essay about my least favorite aunt. Yeet.

Read it if you’d like. I’m just happy to finally get the damage she caused me mostly dealt with to the point where I feel comfortable writing about it.

Language Barrier

Whenever I speak in German my expressions and hand gestures suddenly become ridiculously animated, like I’m trying to make up for my lack of vocabulary with a sign language that hasn’t been invented yet. One that only I know the meaning of. I flap my hands around like a maniac and point to things I don’t know the words for and make broken sentences that sound like a caveman made them as I misgender inanimate objects left and right.

Das. Das. That. That. This. This.

I can physically feel my brain rewiring itself. I speak like fool. Wrong order spoken are words. Sometimes anxiety make cry me. Social kind.

However, I speak much more German than my uncle’s mother and stepfather speak of English so I’m forced to use what I can and hope they can understand my thick American accent as we stay with them in Southern Germany. Everyone keeps trying to reassure me that my German is very good, but I can’t stop out of order speaking.

Kann ich habe Brot mehr bitte? Can I having bread more please?

I want to crawl into a hole and die.

My grandmother warned me that a person can grow tired of the amount of bread that Germans eat and according to that Bible thing that we both read man cannot live by bread alone. I’m starting to understand both of those things, eating bread and jam for breakfast yet again because I don’t like butter with marmalade and there’s no cheese left.

The weather, unlike my breakfast or Deutsche Grammatik, is perfect. Slightly cold, sunny and overcast at the same time. The neighborhood that my uncle’s parents live in is beautiful, suburban, on the edge of Schwartzwald, known in English as the Black Forest. I can’t remember the name of the town but I do know that we tried to get a brewery tour and my aunt, her twins, and I waited in the van as my uncle talked loudly at somebody in a local dialect until he got out of them that they don’t do tours anymore.

We went to a rope climbing course instead. My uncle, tall and skinny, balding, fit, took the twins, boy and girl, skinny like their dad, not taking after their mother, my mother’s sister, and went rope climbing in Schwartzwald.

I’m stuck talking with my aunt as we stand below the ropes course and I’m tired of speaking in German so we both take time to find comfort in each other’s distinctly Californian manner of speaking.

My aunt is a character. That’s a polite way to describe her if you don’t want to speak ill of someone that’s not in the room. She wears no makeup except for when she’s getting her picture taken or going somewhere important and she always looks stressed and tired with her eyes just a little too wide open. She’s maybe four inches shorter than me but she has the ability to make me feel like I only come up to her waist. In my mind she’s always wearing a knee length beige skirt and a green t-shirt even though she owns other articles of clothing than that, including more than 20 pairs of shoes. Her eyes are wide and her hands move in an animated fashion even when she speaks English. When she speaks German she becomes an exaggerated version of herself, perhaps to make up for her thick American accent and occasionally sketchy grammar. She has lived in Switzerland since the 90s and spoken German since the 80s. I once asked her how to tell what a noun’s grammatical gender is. She told me that she had no idea.

I didn’t know my mother for very long before she died but my grandmother tells me that when my mom was young, to describe her sister, she quoted a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. The one about the little girl with the little curl who when she was good she was very good and when she was bad she was horrid.

My aunt’s hair is straight, but other than that the poem describes her very well. Today would be a day she was horrid.

I don’t claim to be a perfect human being. I can be a bitch sometimes just like anybody else. The thing is though, my aunt never let me know when I was doing something bitchy like a normal person would. Instead she let me keep on doing it until she was ready to explode. And then she exploded.

Or, no. Not exactly being bitchy. Just doing something that she didn’t understand or like. She’s a very animated person and her voice goes like

And

Up.

Down.

All the time.

She’s very expressive. I, on the other hand, am not that excitable. I smile, yes, I cry, yes, but I try to be stoic. I like being stoic. It feels natural. I don’t want to express to everyone around me every time I am excited or upset. In my opinion it’s none of their business. I also tend to express gratitude through actions and gift giving rather than hurting my face and voice smiling and screaming all of the time.

I had thought bringing gifts from America, delivering onto my aunt’s family the ever elusive box of grits and Bakersfield candy and trinkets from Disneyland Anaheim would show gratitude. I was under the impression that helping to cook dinner, pack the van, refill the ice trays, take care of the twins, carry the groceries, clean the house, would show how much I loved her. I learned though, in a firestorm under the canopy of dark trees and children riding on zip lines that our love languages didn’t translate properly and she thought that my lack of expressiveness meant that I hated her. She was hysterical about it. I then expressed myself by changing into a lovely shade of red and producing saltwater from my eyes.

Climbing hills is a thing you get used to when you spend time in Central Europe. Walking for three or four kilometers isn’t such a feat in a valley, where the ground is flat and rarely changes, but in hilly terrain you quickly learn just how long that distance is and how much walking can hurt. Locals take no pity on you because they expect that everyone has those muscles built up in their legs when you’ve never had to use your legs like that for long stretches of time before.

Navigating emotion and expectations at home is easy. There is one language being spoken and everyone uses it to tell each other what’s wrong. When staying with my aunt for long periods of time, however, you start to understand emotional exhaustion. Something that would take half a minute to communicate takes up ten minutes of screaming because she expected you to know everything. A flat crowded city turns into a hilly countryside with no help for miles. You quickly learn how to swear in German because she pushes her husband to screaming as well.

Scheiße.

Eventually my uncle finished with the ropes course and pulled me away from her. He gently explained to me in English what we were going to be doing for the next few days. I stopped leaking water from my eyes and tried to remember what had prompted her to start yelling at me but I couldn’t figure it out. Another talent she has. Distracting you from linear events.

While I was in Germany there was a terrorist attack in Münich. Brexit was fresh in everyone’s minds. My first presidential election would be happening in November. I only understood about half of what was said on the news. My little cousins and their dad took turns translating for me. I had the feeling that I still wasn’t getting the whole story.

My aunt and uncle have twins. Test Tube Babies. The girl is the older twin but strangely enough doesn’t hold it over her brother’s head, which would fit perfectly with her personality. The boy takes after his mother in some respects, namely her loud voice.

When we went to Prague we stayed in a campground because that’s a lot cheaper than a hotel and that family affords a second house because they’re stingy. Almost every morning it was a struggle to get the boy out of bed. He and his sister were almost ten and he screamed and refused to move. He cried. He was loud. No amount of discipline worked. His sister stood around quietly going about her business, as did I. We did the same thing when her parents got into screaming matches.

Prague is an old city. A busy city. I loved it, even with all of the pay toilets and Czech bluntness. Even when an angry Czech lady smoking a cigarette yelled at me in broken English for not knowing that I had to pay for the restroom. The old castles and cathedrals and statues and just the right amount of dirtiness in the subway more than made up for it.

My aunt payed for me to go look at a museum that she didn’t want to look at. She told me to take all the time I wanted as the rest of the family waited outside. I didn’t sense any passive aggressiveness that time, so I did. It was a complex that was part of the Prague art museum, a system spread out around the city. The section I walked through by myself was a collection of medieval Roman Catholic art. Stained glass windows, paintings, tapestries. I’m a Lutheran that lives with atheists, so my experience with Catholic art is mostly non existent. Atheists don’t have religious figures to draw and Lutherans are extremely stingy with their images, worried about crossing into the realm of idolatry.

One thing I noticed was that Mary appeared everywhere, even in stories I thought she didn’t belong. In some images she stood equal with Jesus, reminding me of a female God. She seemed mature, different from the outcasted teenage mother I had told children about in Sunday School classes. Different from the refugee that had been painted for me in sermons. I wondered what kind of mother this Mary was. I wondered what her Hebrew sounded like. Or, maybe this Mary spoke Czech and the Mary in Germany spoke German and the Mary in the Vatican spoke Latin and the Mary my Catholic friends at home looked to spoke Spanish. Maybe if I prayed to Mary she would speak English. Maybe she would turn out to speak German and would look down at the frantic dancing of my hands, trying to find meaning in it.

But I don’t pray to Mary, and neither do my aunt or uncle. I report to them what I saw and my observations about Mary. Namely that she seems to be everywhere. My aunt doesn’t quite pick up on the fact that I simply find it interesting and takes it as an invitation to rant about Catholics. I squint at her as we walk back to the subway. I’m trying to figure out if I’d somehow been speaking another language. She certainly seems to be. Maybe it’s a generational gap. Maybe it’s just her, but I try to turn the conversation back to a tone of tolerance rather than complaint. A battle I quickly lose.

Later, in a public park in that busy city, my aunt yelled at me and cried because I had been calling her by her first name rather than Aunt. I nearly start leaking again. I shake. I think she’s speaking English but I don’t understand it. I physically step away from her as she accuses me of not seeing her as family. At the bottom of the hill we’re standing on a dog plays fetch with his owner. Neither of them take notice of the screaming middle aged American woman throwing accusations her deceased sister’s child as her own children zone out and wait for it to be over. No help comes. Nobody translates for me and Google Translate doesn’t have a setting for this.

Twenty minutes later she jokes with me as we find a rare but welcome burrito shop. I buy a mango soda imported from Mexico and it softens my homesickness. We eat on the steps of a light rail station. I laugh. The twins laugh and bounce around, talking to each other in a mixture of English, Swiss-German, and high German. The boy takes a bite out of my burrito and thinks the fact I can eat something that spicy makes me the coolest person in the world. My aunt laughs with me. We make plans for when we go to Southern Germany and visit her husband's parents. That’s where his dentist is. He needs a bit of work done. We’ll have fun, she promises. We had a good time in Prague. I put the bad times in a shoebox for later and then agree with her.

After she yells at me in Schwartzwald for not showing emotion I go quiet. I put more things in the shoebox I’ve made in my mind to deal with later. I learn that all of them have been eavesdropping on the phone calls I’ve been making to my dad and friends back home. My aunt approaches me about how I complained about the yelling. I’m suddenly paranoid and wonder if she read some of the postcards I sent out. I watch my words now and put the ones that might set off her fuse in the box. The little house outside of Zurich has started to feel like home when I return to it and I’m slightly disgusted at that realization. The flowers all make my eyes water and I’m not given nearly enough allergy pills. I still don’t understand what language she’s speaking. Her words are in English or German, as are mine, but we still don’t understand each other.

Currants, especially the red ones, are beautiful fruit. Not easy to find in stores, even in Europe, so you’ve gotta pick them yourself. My aunt and uncle have a small city of currant bushes living in their backyard that hugs the bank of the stream that runs through the neighborhood. They’re beautiful and inviting, asking you to eat them please, but when you do your face scrunches up at the tartness. I never did care for sour tastes, so I found my own way to make the currants sweet by baking them into scones. At first my aunt was sceptical of my scones but after some reassurance from her kids that they didn’t taste like cinnamon she tried them and agreed that I did a good job. They were sweet and went really well with milk or tea. We all enjoyed them very much. Nobody had to translate anything.

Every member of that family gives excellent hugs when you can get them. They share drinks and food with each other, a concept that shocked me at first, but I quickly fell into the rhythm of it with them. They bought me my first beer and took me to Worms, Germany. I loved that place. I got to see one of the first print versions of Luther’s German translation of the bible. I ate pastries and tea with them at an outdoor cafe. It was cold and wet in the middle of the summer and the cobblestones made it even gloomier. The moving feet on the sidewalk seemed to have a language of its own and the new architecture standing by the old had no words to be translated but told a story nonetheless.

My experience in Europe was like Europe itself. Americans expect it to be shiny and beautiful, and it is, but you also have to pay to use the restroom which leads people to piss in the street. You will also find cigarette machines on almost every corner. There is one right outside my aunt and uncle’s second house. The packages of cigarettes have pictures of black lungs and diseased gums on them. The people smoke anyways. Europeans are people. They have drama, they worry about money, they cry, they abuse, they kick, they scream, they love. All the problems you had in America won’t disappear over there, and in fact you might find some new problems you didn’t expect. Like not finding salsa or not knowing how to deal with carnival rides that have no line and are boarded like a much more violent version of musical chairs. And don’t expect to practice your target language there either. The people will hear your accent and excitedly try and use you to practice English. And even if you do speak the language, don’t expect to understand with everyone. Hand gestures can only go so far.

When I got home I left the German language behind me for the most part. I also slowly cut off most contact with my aunt’s family. Six weeks spent putting things in a shoebox and not speaking whatever language my aunt was speaking with English and German words was enough for me. By the time I opened my shoebox a few months later it was rotten, smelly, and leaking. It took over a year to clean it out and it’s still warped and stained, containing whispers of my own desperate language that would never penetrate my aunt’s skull or jump over the barrier we had built together.

My rotten shoebox is revolting to look at, and while I was cleaning it parts of the mess got onto the happy memories but thankfully they’re still there. The cathedrals, the warm hugs, the new foods, and comforting rain are all there. Late nights and early mornings, potato pancakes and beer, museums and trees and the times I could honestly say; Ja, ich bin glücklich. Yes, I am happy. And thankfully that sentence is easy to translate.

[ofcjessa]

I’m not good at intros! But hello, i’m sola (she/her) and i’m glad to be apart of this c: i’m twenty three and live in the eastern time zone! this my wild girl jessa, she’s a bit complex but who doesn’t love that! hit this like button and i’ll bother you!

*  ╰   it’s  an  absolute  dishonour  to  meet  you ,  jessica / jessa    .  at  twenty-two ,  you’ve  disgraced  the   blackwood   family  name  &  failed  to  carry  on  their  legacy  as  an  elite  .  as  a  result  ,  they’ve  requested  that  we  at  the  academy  do  our  best  to  rid  you  of  your  venality  ,  &  seeing  as  though  they’re  worth    95m  ,  we  dutifully  obliged  .  while  your  recklessness &  cunning  attributes  have  always  promised  failure  , it’s  your  spar  with  wrath  &  intentionally crashing your exe’s new car on his birthday that  got  you  committed  .  before  we  take  possession  of  you  ,  it’s  imperative  that  we  know  that  you  are  a  female who  prefers  she/her pronouns  ,  &  you  resemble  laura harrier  .  your  birthday  is  on mar 24th ,  making  you  a  bewildered aquarius  ,  &  you  were  transported  to  us  all  the  way  from  san diego, calfornia  .  at  the  present  time  ,  you  work  on  campus  at  the bookstore  .  go  ahead  &  purchase  that  extra  large  suitcase  ,  disgrace  .  you’re  going  to  need  it .  /  penned  by  sola  ,  23,  she/her,  eastern.

 Jessica parent's are important to people in this world, and at a young age she had to understand that. Her mother owns a microprocessor company, and her father was a famous actor in the 90s (and now )/humanitarian. There would be rare times where family was together, it seemed that they never had time for eachother...or for her. Growing up, she was a little loner. She had friends, but she only was around them because her mother insisted. When her parent's were away, she stayed with her grandparents or with her nanny.

⦁ During her childhood, Jessa had problems expressing her feelings. Jessa was always told to stay in her place as a child, but it was hard to listen when her parents we're never there. She once told her nanny that she respected her mother than her parents. Also, during school, Jessa was quick to anger because built up emotions. The only time her parents noticed was because of the nanny, so they sent her to therapy. The last straw was the outburst she had at her parent's dinner party. Just a small Jessa screaming at her parents, exposing the lack of existence. They we're so embarrassed that they sent her away to her grandparent's, and they spent a week with her...and bought her a bunch of things. Then they just kept buying her things she wanted to shut her up....and in the long run it wasn't a good idea.

⦁ Jessa  parents had her in the spotlight once in a blue moon. They will stick cameras in her face when her father does something good for the world, or her mother making into Forbes. They wanted to have this image as a humble family, and she will hold the image for them but Jessa was known as a different person outside of that.

⦁ Jessa can't remember not one time she missed a high school party. Even as a freshman, she gained popularity from her status. But she was never the go with the crowd kind of person. She loved parties, and going on adventures with her friends with out telling her parents. Jessa was the “wild child” with her friends .Never cared, reckless, just a venturesome kid who knew the dangers but just took her anyways because.....why the hell not. She had everything that she wanted.  Her  mother and father was concerned and tired of a behavior, and started to give ultimatums that they couldn’t keep themselves. After while she grew out of her partying days and started focusing on her future.

⦁ The reason her parents threw her to the academy, because she took it too far. Jessa knows how to push her parents buttons enough for them to quake until she's satisfied. Her boyfriend was someone that her parents liked since they set them up together. She liked him but in the long run he was used her to get close to her mother.

⦁ Jessa had her suspicion that he was cheating on her. She could never confront him on the matter because it never seem like the right time. Finally, she went to her mother to get a little advice, but her mother brushed it off as "paranoia". Jessa never spoke on it again, until she gathered more confidence to ask her exe herself. He told her what she wanted to hear, and she let him off until she started recieving texts.

⦁ A day before her ex's birthday, she received texts from the other girl who threaten to release the texts to social media. He was cheating on her also. Jessa was never the one to cry, but that's the first time she experienced heartbreak. There was times that night Jessa thought her plan was...unnecessary but...no one was going to make her cry.

⦁ On the night of his birthday, Jessa drove his new car...her parent's bought him to welcome into her mother's company, and crashed it in a ditch....with her in it. They founded her bloody on the side of the road with a cigarette in her mouth. And she was arrested for disturbing the peace. Luckily her father knew the chief of police, and they let her go the next day. It already got social media attention, and her parents had to make public apology. When she came back home, her bags we're packed and ready to go.

Jessa has the sweetest face, that could turn on you in a minute. She's embodiment of bothered in the outside, but probably planning your doom inside. She doesn't share too much about herself as she thinks it's easy to find out who she is. Her emotions is complex, sometimes it's better for her to keep her mouth close, but most of the time she's straightforward and never bite her tongue.  Jessa has times where he’s this down to earth, humble girl, and flip the script and become wacky and wild. But also having a lot of love to give, but doesn’t know how to show it.  Jessa is still reckless, and that's will be the hardest thing during her time at the academy. She's observant and calculative, she carefully weighs each word and action to her advantage.

Connections

1. partners-in-crime ; this is my favorite , not gonna lie . it sounds really lame but something like a wingman , but not really a sidekick . two characters ( they don’t have to get along extremely well !! ) who stick by the other’s side when in trouble && they often commit a lot of pranks/tricks on other people. seen by other characters as inseparable , this can be an alternative to a best friend of sorts ? or you could just have partners who don’t really get along well but still do things together because the dynamic is amazing !! and everyone just stares in awe at the two tbh because if you can become partners-in-crime with your enemy , you might as well be super dangerous !!

5. we always meet wtf ? ; ok i don’t have a proper name for this i’m so sorry !! anyway like two characters who meet everywhere they go ,, like at the bakery, on the street, on a train ,, wherever it is ,, you name it , they’ve met there at least thrice . and you can make it so it’s intentional or not ,, the freedom is yours to choose !! and it could go anywhere from here !!

7. childhood friends ; this one is super simple but can either be angsty or just nice ! maybe they could’ve been inseparable as children but grew apart because of their clashing personalities , or they can still be inseparable now , but one has a crush on the other. ( bonus points if it’s a same-sex friendship & one’s straight / hasn’t come out ) they could also have never spoken in a decade and it will either be a. awkward or b. super nice and fun and friendly !! this can go in so many ways i’m just gonna let your imaginations flow !!

8. friends-with-benefits ; this is fun — maybe they’re not exactly fucking , just kissing and always flirting with each other as they go . some can be shameless , others more secretive & choosing to keep it away from their other friends , while some just show it off to the whole world. not necessarily a relationship , but not just friends either — this label can encompass the grey area between the two distinct platonic & romantic relationships, so go wild !! have fun with this idea ! woo !

9. enemies ; ok so who doesn’t love an angsty rivals/enemies plot ? and to top it off , maybe one has a thing for the other , or maybe they’ve done something wrong to the other , like blackmail them , cheat with their partner etc etc. or it could just be a competition for popularity or being number one in sports , studies , anything tbh !! this is fun & a really refreshing connections from all the types of friends you’ve got !! maybe even ‘we’re enemies in front of you but we’re fooling around behind your back’ ?

10. sweethearts ; they don’t have to necessarily ever date , just two very liked people who everyone seems to think are dating , or are fooling around . maybe they haven’t , and actually resent each other , or they’ve fucked and loved it too much but a parent disapproves of the relationship , it can go so many ways i’m just going to leave it at this !!

11. work buddies/class; this is very generic & more like acquaintances , but can also lead to something cool , like ‘hey we’re supposed to be doing a project but instead we’re egging your neighbor’s house’ or ‘i really like you and i know a lot about you but i’m going to pretend i don’t know a thing because then it’ll get awkward fast’. something along the lines of ‘weren’t you the person i had a one-night stand with?’ would also be neat !!

[olympivnshq]

congratulations izabella !  deliberating on EURYDICE was really intense for us because we got two applications that were equally beautiful. what stood out for us was how much of an individual you made this character in a way that made us believe she is the tragic protagonist of her own story. your passionate advocation for that came through in every section in your application, and while it was a tough decision, we know we ultimately made the right one. we’re happy to welcome you with your first faceclaim choice: BENSU SORAL.

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ  OOC INFO.

Hi there! I’m Izabella, I’m 22 years old and I currently live in CST. I’m super excited to apply, especially since I’m such a fan of greek mythology. I’m also a gif maker in my free time for the rpc!

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ  DEITY  —  GENDER. AGE RANGE.

Eurydice, Female, (23-27)

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ MORTAL NAME. JOB/OCCUPATION. BOROUGH/NEIGHBORHOOD.

Adara Phillips, Cabaret Dancer & Waitress, Greenpoint

☆ﾟ*・ﾟ AESTHETICS.

i. The pale orange sky of a 5am morning ii. Flowers growing back as thorns iii. Ripped fishnets paired with boots iv.The lonely howl of wind through an empty apartment v. A single spark of hope vi. Smudged eyeliner vii. Standing in a crowd of strangers viii. Cracks on the ceiling ix. An old leather jacket, well worn x. The smell of hot coffee xi. Cherry lips, a smart mouth xii. A canary in a golden cage xiii. Guarded walls xiv. Winter snowfall on the city xv. The hazy lights of a club

☆ﾟ*・ PLAYLIST.

E U R Y D I C E; A playlist (listen here)

ft. H.E.R, Frank Ocean, Billie Eilish, & more

i.  Sweet, sweet fate I had about all that can take You’re my living in the breath that I make Is it yours? I wonder

ii.  Shower your affection, let it rain on me Don’t leave me on this white cliff Let it slide down to the, slide down to the sea

iii. Oh, Father tell me, do we get what we deserve? Whoa, we get what we deserve Way down we go

iv.  It’s seeming more and more Like all we ever do is see how far it bends Before it breaks in half and then We bend it back again

v.  I’d be the dreadful need in the devotee That made him turn around And I’d be the immediate forgiveness In Eurydice Imagine being loved by me!

vi.  But nothing is better sometimes Once we’ve both said our goodbyes Let’s just let it go

vii. And we were grown on the same round little blue dot Although the answers will take their time and the spinning won’t stop So could it be that the nightmare is upon us And heavy hearts can’t decide when they’ve had enough

viii. Two drifters off to see the world There’s such a crazy world to see We’re all chasin’ after all the same Chasing after our rainbow’s end

☆ﾟ*・ HOW WOULD YOU PLAY THEM?

( y o u t h )

Disillusionment. Adara is no stranger to the darkness the world has to offer, too many times has it plagued her path. Born into a poor family, each breathe was a struggle. There was never enough food on the table, never time for love to blossom when her parents were forced to work graveyard shifts. In a house that threatened to fall apart, Adara began to understand just who she could rely on: herself. Still, little inklings of childhood dreams would float into her mind. Was there a life out there waiting for her, warmth and yearning pushing her to try and find it. So she did- at the naive age of eighteen, she packed a bag of her belongings and disappeared into the world. The greyhound bus took her from her empty South Carolina town into the heart of New York City. For the first time in forever, she could taste a possibility on her tongue: the kind of future where she didn’t have to live day by day.

It wasn’t like that.

( n e w y o r k ‘ s l i g h t s)

She’d gone from place to place, landing in a rundown apartment that was far from being a home. The cracks on the ceilings mirrored that of the girl, each one growing more severe with every encounter. What money she had she hid under her mattress, the dollars beginning to dwindle under New York’s gaze. In an act of desperation, Adara found herself in an interview for a cabaret bar. The flier’s bold letters made a claim: be a star, shine like a dream. That was all she really wanted, a chance. So she took it head-on, promises coming back to tie a rope around her neck. Instead of a glimmering stage, she was tossed into the works as a waitress and dead beat dancer. The crowd was reminiscent of sharks in bloody waters- the disgusting comments made them high, all at the expense of Adara. And kindness? It was as prevalent as water in a drought.

Dreams withered away and the knife twisted in further.

( t h e h e a r t a c h e)

What little solace she had was in a neighbor. He’d introduced himself with a soft smile, eyes that shone like brilliant emeralds. It was hard not to lay all her hope into him, when every other hour spent was under the shadow of skyscrapers. Falling in love was something Adara had never done before, and it terrified her. We’ll run away from here, we’ll find something better. They were promises again, made under linen covers and the stars. Yet once she was ready to give herself away completely, heart in the palm of her hands, he left without a sound. No note, no word, nothing but the wind blowing through an empty apartment. It was a lesson learned- trust no one but yourself.

( t h e d e b t )

Money was what made the world around, and she never seemed to be able to get enough of it. Each dollar made was stuffed away, rent looming overhead, demanding to be paid. The first of the month would arrive with a fury, and Adara would struggle to make the payment. She’d fall short another hundred, and her debt would begin to rise. The threat of eviction notices began to pile up at her door, and she’d plead with the landlord to give her another chance… however the question remains, how many chances does she have left?

( e u r y d i c e & a d a r a )

What I wanted to do was have Adara’s life mirror that of Eurydice’s. I think that the original version is someone that was plagued in her own fate, a tragic hero that despite her hope, was taken apart by the world. She was known for being resilient and putting her faith in others, only to be betrayed. Such was the case when it came to Adara chasing her dreams and the man she was willing to fall in love with. I think a common thing between each character is their transition from innocent hopeful to a realist. Both approach life as a pragmatist, after understanding that in order to survive, they cannot hold onto things like hope… however being human, this is something that they desperately want in their life (despite not being willing to admit it). A sense of warmth, someone to hold. Adara, like Eurydice, carries the heavy burden of being alone and it’s an extremely tiring thing. They each trudge on because they have to, but if given a better option, both can be swayed into falling for a trap. For Eurydice, this is the encounter with Hades or even marrying Orpheus. For Adara, this was the lure of the big city and promise.

All of these factors determine how I would portray the character if given the chance, both Adara and her mythic counterpart: as someone whose weathered, someone who finds complications in giving away her heart too easy because of fear, someone who understands that the world can sometimes be a machine that takes people and spits them out… and someone who desperately wants this to not be true.

Personality traits

+ Resilient   +Independent  +Complex  +Fiery

+/- Cunning

-Desperate  -Unhappy  -Disenchanted   -Guarded

*please include both how’d you play their “mortal” version, as well as their original, unadulterated selves.

answer these questions: 1. are they more likely to stand with the pantheon or against it?  ( if you are choosing a god they may endeavor to dismantle it for whatever reason )

I think that Eurydice would potentially stand against the Pantheon, after all, she sees the gods and goddesses as beings who have everything. It’s their job to help take care of the mortals, but she herself has been left to the devices of the world. It gives her little to believe in, and if it’s beneficial to stand against the pantheon and serves her, then she would do it. 2. what is their stand on mortals?

Mortals are unkind. Mortals have been put through hell and back, Eurydice included. However if they can tap into their human nature, maybe just maybe, the world can begin to bloom again.

☆ﾟ*・ SAMPLE PARA (OPTIONAL)

A mosaic of pink and orange painted the sky, dawn falling on the city that never slept. For a moment, she could hold onto a sense of calm. No streetcar horns, no sound of the train rumbling past her apartment, no neighbors airing out their Saturday morning grievances. Peace. If only. It’d been another late-night shift at the bar, a job that left little to be desired considering the clientele. Come on sugar, how about you ditch the drinks? When she’d been younger, she always dreamed of becoming something great- one of those actors that shined under the spotlight. Maybe a dancer at the ballet. Unfortunately, life had cast aside dreams in favor of reality. There was no room for fantasies when she needed to survive. So, another grimy eight hour was another table set with dinner.

Cigarette extinguished into the ashtray, her eyes looked across the street at a familiar bedroom. The light was on, he was probably headed to work again. They’d met on the NQ train, each encounter furthering the blush that threatened to creep in her cheeks. But it was always the same. The minute life offered a warm bed and a hand to hold, a sense of doubt nudged her heart aside. There was no room for love, not for a woman who didn’t have the luxury of falling. Another person was a liability, and wouldn’t they only hurt her and disappoint her like the rest? Adara’s gaze lingered for a moment, the myriad of what-ifs swimming in her mind before she cast them aside. Life didn’t work that way. Life wasn’t kind.

☆ﾟ*・ ANYTHING ELSE?

here is adara’s muse tag

[yeoldontknow]

Kilig

Author’s Note: happy birthday @imdifferentshadesofpurple <33 i love you so much. i know weve been talking about this fic since christmas and ive not been able to work on it. but its the mark of your dreams and i love you! mork <3 ↳ Kilig (n. Tagalog): the unstoppable sensation of joy or elation experienced when intensely, madly falling in love; the sudden feeling of inexplicable joy when something romantic occurs Pairing: Mark Tuan x Reader (oc; female) Summary: You’ve weathered so much in your relationship with Mark, and still he makes you twitterpatted. But when you’re moving in together, and choosing the right home to start your life, you start wondering if things will ever feel the same again. Genre: fluff; romance; domestic au Rating: PG-13 Warning: implied sex Word Count: 2,554

For as long as you’ve known him, Mark has told you he loves you with all of him.

The ways have been endless and numerous, sometimes imperceptible to the untrained eye, but for you, they have always been obvious.

It started with this eyes, the way they would find you in a crowded room, seeking you and your shape as a comfort. Without looking, you could feel them on you, a sensuous sort of touch that called you to him and made your skin hurt wherever he was not felt. And when you did dare to meet his gaze, let yourself fall with him, it was the way they were open wide and swimming. Too many colours seemed to pool and gather in his irises, bewildered by you as he was and taking on all the light in the world just to see you in perfect focus.

Then, it was his lips. This is when the ways became both simple and complex, a paradox of sentiment that took you weeks to untangle. His tongue seemed to handle the word differently, gave shape to love as though he were sculpting a monument meant to outlast humankind. To him, the word was delicate, though it was only a fragile thing when it was given to you, asking you to hold it with him, and to cherish it. He spoke the word like it were feathers, but he kissed it on you like wildfire, reckless and with abandon, and demanding that you burn with him.

On you, there was not a single place his lips did touch or taste, greedy in the way he consumed you and unforgiving in the way he weathered you down.

Lastly, came his hands. The holiness of his hands washed over with delay, slowly and overtime, and without the dedication of your thought. Only when you realized he touched you as though you were something sacred, gentle but with the whole of his hand, did you think back on all the ways he had handled the totality of you. In the early days, he clutched your hand as a cross, fingers to your knuckles and unwilling to be parted from you. The flat of his palms rested against your cheeks as he kissed you, holding your head and holding you to him, fending off the oncoming separation with prayers against your skin.

But these were nothing to the way his fingers traversed your spine, your thighs, your breasts, tracing scripture into your pores and hoping they etched into the bone. Nightly, he carved commandments into you, let his love spread until his name and his essence was a mark upon your ribs. It was the same for him, you knew, the way your hands gripped his shoulders and slithered down his back as he moved in you - your touch had been sweared into his spine, a permanent reminder at the base of his cerebellum that dictated his choices, his thoughts, his speech.

You called this unity. He called you his soulmate. Together, you knew it was love.

For as long as you’ve known him, Mark as told you he loves you with all of him.

But now, searching for a home in which you will start your life, the love he gives seems only to be directed towards you and not your future, and you don’t know whether to be offended or exhausted.

Choice was never his strong suit, backing away from options with raised hands and a cock of his eyebrow. It is not that he didn’t have opinions, it’s just that his were never as loud as others, and so he never learned to argue. In choosing you, he is vocal, adamant and determined, and his perpetual choice of you, he felt, absolved him of all the rest.

You thought, perhaps, this would change after four failed house showings and one apartment, each more special than the last. But with each, he seemed only to withdraw further, shrugging at things you felt were important and being vocal about insignificant things, unremarkable things that could be changed.

Today, on your fifth house showing, he stands in the living room admiring the design on the ceiling with a scowl. Arms crossed, he furrows his brow and pouts his lips, aloof and somewhat bored.

‘Mark.’ You say his name in the hopes of bringing him back to you and receiving his focus, but instead his gaze remains fixed. ‘What do you think of the mantle?’

Unmoved, he sighs before speaking. ‘Do you think the circles were what they wanted?’

Thrown by his question, you blink at him before raising your gaze. ‘Probably? It’s in the final design, so I’m sure it was approved.’

‘It just looks so unfinished,’ he muses, turning to assess the design behind him. ‘Like wouldn’t they have wanted squiggles...for a ribbon.’

‘We can ask the development manager…’ Your statement fades as you search the pamphlet handed to you at the door, seeking a name. On each page, housing designs and templates greet you, all modern and extravagant, and with customizable kitchens. It says nothing about the ceiling.

‘I’m not saying we have to change it,’ he says, turning to look at you with a small, half smile. ‘Just would be hard to change if we wanted to.’

Briefly, you glance between Mark and the ceiling as you chew the inside of your cheek. Handling Mark when he’s like this is delicate, not because he is tempestuous nor volatile, simply because matching his aloofness will lead him to believe you are not serious - about this home, or any. One, poorly timed comment will send you back on another search and, while it is not that you are serious about this home, it’s merely that any home with him would suffice. And thus, this search has been overwhelmingly tiring.

Every home you have seen has been beautiful, modern, and delightfully within budget. This is a rarity, a magical experience in which choices are abundant and all are wonderful, and so you would be happy with any if he were happy at all. Instead, he’s placid, unmoved by any one house, liking things in one and hating the same in the other, difficult only because he maneuvers around choice.

But this is the first time he’s used the word “we,” implying an us in the space and a future existence. And so you are careful, clutching this word to your chest and hoping it does not sprout wings of hope.

‘Is this,’ you begin slowly, taking a step towards him, ‘something you would want to change?’

Shaking his head, Mark keeps his expression even and placid. ‘No,’ he says, simply. ‘Just saying, it’s hard to change.’

With a sigh, you close your eyes and count to ten.

Staring at the door to the master bedroom, rather than viewing the room’s size and scope, Mark hums. ‘These doorknobs are brass.’

From your position in the entry to the en-suite, you turn your head and regard him. Hands shoved in his pockets, he looks a little lost, and you hate that it makes you smile. ‘Yes,’ you offer, keeping your voice neutral, ‘but that’s much easier to change than a ceiling pattern.’

Mark glances up at you, somewhat aghast.. ‘Why would I want to change these?’

Once again, you find yourself dumbfounded. ‘Brass tarnishes easily.’ Pressing your finger into the knob, you pull it back after a moment to reveal the very clear impression of your print. Satisfied, you regard him patiently, as though this should be enough - the clear display of finger oils eating away at the smooth texture.

‘It gives the house character,’ he says, finally, still studying your fingerprint.

And this is what does it, what sends frustration and irritation to the center of your throat like bile. ‘These give it character?’ There’s a sharpness in your voice you know you will soon come to regret, but the way it feels on your tongue is a release you did not know you wanted to caress. ‘Not the mantle and the enormous fireplace?’

His head snaps up to meet your gaze, eyes searching your expression. ‘When have you ever seen brass knobs in a modern house?’ he tries, tone playful in the efforts of keeping you calm.

But still, you do not give in. He’s had so much of you, you think, and it is unfair he keeps this stage of your life at an arm’s length. ‘These give it character?’ you snap, fully rooted in your anger. ‘Not the mirror over the kitchen sink that faces the picture window to the yard.’

Taking a step back to fully appraise you, he regards you with a soft, worried expression. ‘What’s this about?’

‘Not the crown molding or the built in bookcases?’ you continue, unable to stop now that the flood has been unpinned from your lips. ‘But these, the ugly brass doorknobs, give it character.’

Several seconds pass in which you savor the silence, so unlike the quiet that usually falls between you. This is not the calm silence of knowing your lover enough to know their thoughts, the comfortable silence of partners in which words fail and somehow seem insufficient. This is the silence of realization and understanding, the silence of awareness that this may be your first real fight, and while it would never be enough to break you, it is enough to remind you that love takes commitment, even when commitment is hard.

‘Hey, what’s -’

Mark’s words are cut off as you spin on your heels and walk briskly out of the house.

Immediately, you know it will not be this one, and as you push through the front door a spiteful laugh rises from your throat. At least one choice has been removed, though it is not because there was any particular flaw. Sadness constricts your chest, and you are unsure if it is because you did really like this home or if it is because you have liked all the others, too, and you are unsure you will ever find a home with Mark or if he is just coming with you for the ride.

‘Baby.’

The deep intonation of his voice makes you release a heavy sigh, eyes wide as you cock your head back to stare at the sky.

‘Tell me what’s wrong.’

At once, you feel him behind you. His eyes, and now the heat from his existence, attuned to it as you are, as though he were magnetic.

‘No,’ you shake your head, keeping your back to him. ‘I’m mad at you.’

At this, he laughs, the sound rich and full, the chocolate you always find yourself craving, and it takes work not to turn to face him, and to see his skin in the sun of high noon.

‘You can be mad at me, but I’d like to know what you’re mad about.’ He takes a few steps towards you, his head radiating into your back. ‘I think that’s only fair.’

Keeping your gaze straight ahead, unwilling to turn or see him because it means you will cave, you sigh. Crossing your arms, you scowl, pretending he can see you. ‘It was your idea to move in together.’

‘I know.’

Digging your heels into the earth your purse your lips. ‘So why don’t you want to?’

‘What?’ he asks, sounding alarmed.

The worry in his voice is real, surprised, and you know you have been unfair. He doesn’t know he’s being difficult, almost never does - so self-aware in every instance except for this - and it’s cruel of you to let him panic.

Turning to face him, you see the way his hands clench at his sides, fighting the urge to reach for you. Still, you hold your ground. ‘You fight every house and find random things wrong with it, or pick the most bizarre things just because you don’t want to be involved in the choice.’

‘You think that’s what I’m doing?’ he asks, cocking his head to the side in concern.

‘Isn’t it?’ you laugh in disbelief. ‘You do that with dinner. You shrug every time I offer a choice and you tell me to pick. You let me pick what we watch on Netflix -’

‘But I like what you pick!’ he exclaims.

‘Okay,’ you shrug, shaking your head, ‘but I don’t want to choose anymore.’

‘That’s fine!’ Mark’s laugh is airy, unlike its usual texture. ‘I can pick the next show we watch.’

‘No, it’s not Netflix!’ You don’t mean to shout, but you’re tired. Tired of feeling like you don’t have a partner, and sick with the feeling that, somehow, you don’t have him. ‘It’s everything. I don’t want to be alone in choosing our home.’

At your words, he blanches, the colour fading from his skin even in the sun. ‘You think I don’t want to pick a house?’ he whispers, delicate in the way he handles his words.

‘Clearly, you don’t.’

‘I can see how it would come off that way, and I’m sorry.’ At once, he reaches for you, unable to hold back the need to touch you. He gathers you into his arms, burying his nose into your neck to take the smell of you in, deep into his lungs. ‘Really, I am. I thought you knew.’

‘What are you talking about,’ you murmur, immediately letting your guard down at the feel of his muscles beneath your hands.

Pulling back just enough to see you, he cradles your cheek with his palm. ‘Picking the house is so...not a concern of mine.’

In protest, you open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off.  

‘Listen!’ he laughs, eyes wide and imploring you to be calm and to be patient. ‘Picking the house is not a concern because you are my home. As long as I’m with you, I am home. We could be in a hotel or a shed or a mansion, I don’t care. Okay, maybe I care about the mansion because that’s a crazy electric bill, but I don’t care where it is as long as I’m with you. I found home a long time ago, so when I bring up random things on house showings it’s because I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. Your heart is my home, and it’s the only place I want to be.’

Once more, silence falls between you, but this is the silence in which he tells you he loves you with all of him. The penetrative way he holds your stare moves you, makes you feel him once more taking root in your heart, holding it with his palm instead of your cheek. Silently, his lips shape the words “I love you” over and over, until he stops to smile, knowing that your soul has heard him where your ears could not. And last, he keeps you in his hold, hands burning with the knowledge that being separate from you is painful, terrible, and like this you know he is right.

Neither of you are truly at peace without the other, and so it should not matter what roof shelters you, for you will always shelter each other.

‘Goddammit, Mark,’ you laugh, pressing your face into his shoulder.

‘What now?’

‘You got me so emotional, I’m considering the brass knobs.’

[steppenshe-wolf]

hey, can you do PoE for the characters/5 emotional categories sorting thing?

“The Prince of Egypt” has probably my favorite cast of all full-length animated movies I’ve seen. I don’t consider any its character bland or lame. I put most of them under #2( fan over) category, unless stated otherwise.

Moses - I love what a supportive and devoted brother to Rameses he was at the beginning, I feel like he was full of desire to help Rameses on his path of pharaoh. It’s not so common, many overally decent people( especially teenagers and yound adults) are more rivalrous of their siblings. Moses’ siblingly qualities remind be of charming Anna of Arendelle. His willingness take the responsibility for his and Rameses’ pranks is touching and shows that he has always been more selfless person than Rameses. Some say it was insensitive and unbrotherly of Moses to return the ring to Rameses but I don’t see why Moses is obligated to be sensitive and brotherly towards Rameses after Rameses did way more insensitive and unbrotherly thing: defended the man who nearly caused Moses’ death. I think Moses’ reacted much more peacefully than many other people( including Tzipporah, Aaron and myself) would. I love how Moses develops into a humbler man. Finally, he is very handsome and I really enjoy looking at him.

Rameses - he is my favorite character of entire movie. He is the biggest reason of many why PoE is a masterpiece. The original story of Moses is far from my favorite part of Bible, I always preferred Genesis over Exodus but I also prefer PoE over “Joseph: King of Dreams”( which I rate 8/10). It would be impossible to make me adore the adaptation of Exodus without giving dimensions to main characters. I think many people exaggerate Rameses’ love of Moses. We never see Rameses risking much for Moses, I don’t think using his power of pharaoh to save Moses from execution makes him exceptionally great brother. However, caring about others even only until it costs much is still not typical for villains from kids movies. Rameses’ character development is very well-written. He is such a realistic character. Also I love that Rameses has more stereotypically “good guy-ish” physical features than Moses and resembles a teddybear a bit, especially as a teenager.  The animators deserve special credit for it.

Miriam - her personality is so inspiring and enviable. She is incredibly courageous, bold, compassionate, protective and optimistic. Too bad I can’t say same of myself.

Aaron #3. Like - I didn’t expect to like him at all. At first glance he is too much like Tulio whom I can’t stand. But now I think Aaron is treated way too harshly both in-universe and meta. In my opinion he is the kindest of main male characters in this movie and the second kindest male after Jethro. He has never done nowhere near as jerkish as what Moses’ did to Tzipporah in the banquet scene, he has never been mean to innocents.  "Moses, how does it feel when you get struck to the ground?“ line is harsh but not injust. Of course, he should call Moses “a great leader”, despite Moses hurting Aaron’s beloved sibling( sarcasm). BTW, interesting if most likely unintentional parallel… I enjoyed how Aaron called Moses out on his self-centeredness, I don’t like when character don’t get any criticism in-universe. I’d classify Aaron as a borderline between #2 and #3. I believe that if Aaron was raised as a prince, he grew up more compassionate person than pre-exile Moses.

Tzipporah - another character who turned out much more enjoyable than I expected. I am not a fan of other love interests from 2D Dreamworks movies. My favorite moment with Tzipporah is when her facial expression changes after Moses’ ‘I’ve done nothing in my life worth honoring” line. Tzipporah appreciates humility and I think it’s very wise, as is her not rushing to fall in love with a man, despite knowing that this man is capable of decency. This is actually the answer what prevents me from loving princess Mei( “Mulan II”) who is overally quite similiar character. Tzipporah is so far from materialistic and superificial that in order to escape the life as handsome and rich prince’s concubine she is willing to risk her life. Tzipporah and Moses is my favorite 2D Dreamworks romantic couple.

Seti - Seti shows how hard-working creators really were. Seti is suprisingly complex for a character with such small screentime. I was touched by how he loves Moses as his biological son. Note that I have high expectations on people, I feel zero sympathy for villains many people do( Cersei and Tywin Lannister and Ellaria Sand, for example), seeing good about people is not my strength. Dreamworks managing me to feel sympathy for villain is just a miracle. Unlike many villains from kids movies, Seti is  uncapable of kindness when it costs him something( especially power) rather than uncapable of kindness at all. It’s very realistic and an important thing to know for children.

Tuya - she is adorable! I admire and envy her compassion, gentleness and generosity. I was impressed by how she immediately fall in love with Moses and was very decisive to adopt him and later she remained loving him whole entire life as much as she loved Rameses. I love how she, unlike entire crowd, was repulsed by Moses’ treatment of Tzipporah, a foreign slave, a sub-human by standards of her society. I also consider Tuya the most beautiful female in the movie. There is something feline about both her looks and demeanor. I associate her with a domestic cat who provide a cozy atmosphere at her beloved home. Such a charming character!

Jethro - so warm-hearted, charming, charismatic, caring, supportive, spiritual and wise! His song is so powerful and touching, always gives me chills. Only a innerly gorgeous person can speak like that. He is so much more than a nice guy. Jethro is very inspirational and I wish I had more things in common with him.

Hotep and Huy - they are funny and sinister at the same time and I love their musical number. They are partially the reason I prefer PoE over “Hunchback of Notre Dame”, I didn’t enjoy comedical part in latter at all. I love the scene at the beginning of “Plagues” when those two are eating and drinking and looking so carefree and then the food gets destroyed by bugs. There is something peculairly beautiful about this scene. Every movie about oppression needs characters like Hotep and Huy: priveleged, hedonistic jerks. And the way Hotep says, “By the power of Ra!” is just adorable.

Yocheved #4. Meh - what I’ll say may sound cold-hearted and cynical but love of one’s biological children sometimes can’t prevent me from loathing a character, let alone to put it into this category. It seems like Yocheved was overally a nice woman and had a good influence on Aaron and Miriam but we saw too little of her. Tuya and Rachel from “Joseph: King of Dreams” ( especially the former) left a stronger impression on me. I wasn’t excited with her famous lullaby as much as most of people were, I love “Through Heaven’s Eyes” more. However, Yocheved deserves a credit for courage( it takes a lot of courage to act so rational and reasonable in the face of the biggest threat possible) and she reminds me of Mulan because of said type of courage and her resourcefulness so my feelings to Yocheved borderline #3( like).

[deliadexaerisofficialuniver-blog]

I was reading the Wikipedia article about transgender people and it talks about what it refers to as "early onset dysphoria," and "late onset dysphoria," like, okay... if you experience dysphoria that started later in life, or you came to terms with your identity, or had a change in identity later in life, that's valid, but reading the descriptions in the article, I can't help but feel like they might suffer a bit from a lack of trans input...

The way they read, it acts like trans women who experience dysphoria and feminine identity and gender early in life are all shouting about it and trying to cut our dicks off in the shower/tub, and trying on our mom's clothes and begging for dresses at the age of 3, and like, no..

I have experienced dysphoria as long as I can remember. I didn't ever try to cut my penis off back then, but I was intent on hiding it, wishing it would go away. My parents thought this was weird and tried to encourage me to be "proud" of it. I thought this was weird When I found out my mom didn't have one, I wanted it gone even more. I could no longer rationalize it away as awkward, and weird feeling, but necessary for peeing. When I asked what had happened to hers, my parents said "Girls don't have those." This broke my tiny heart, because according to them, it meant I was a boy, which was the last thing I ever wanted to be. I hated boys. I thought they were gross, mean, and all around horrible. When my parents made me socialize and spend time with little boys my age, I hated it. I wanted to be away from them, back home where I could cloister myself in my room. At the time, I felt like my older half-brother was just the worst. When my older half-sisters got to take time away from their mom to come visit, it was the best. They didn't feel like bullies. They treated me like a little person. 

When I started school, I immediately ingratiated myself with the other girls, and distanced myself socially from boy-world as much as possible. Most of my friends were other girls, and I avoided socializing with the boys like the plague. To me, they seemed gross, mostly dim, and like bullies. There were a few boys in the gifted program with me who seemed different, but they were the exception rather than the rule. Basically, I saw the majority of boys as less like me in every way, and the other girls as more like me, and much more pleasant and safe feeling to be around. It's my understanding that a lot of other girls feel this way too, so I guess this makes sense. And for the record, yeah, I absolutely wished I could've asked my parents for clothes and jewelry like the other girls wore. I was jealous as all get-out. I wanted belly-shirts, jelly shoes, skirts,chunky bracelets and necklaces... I just knew better than to ask...

Going to the Sanrio store at the mall with my sisters when they visited was like a dream. I wanted everything cute and girly in the store, but the only thing that felt gender-neutrally safe enough to ask for was a foam lizard on a walking wire with pink sunglasses. Going shopping anywhere was still torture. I remember vividly, seeing the girls' clothes, feeling this aching inside, wanting to ask for any of it, all of it, for skirts, jelly shoes, bracelets, necklaces, Lisa Frank backpacks... I just knew I couldn't. I knew that if I did ask, I'd be punished, or that at the very least publicly reprimanded and made to feel like there was something wrong with me, because boys didn't get to wear those clothes, or get those accessories, no matter whether I *felt* like a boy or not. All the same, I wanted it all, inside, I *needed* it all. I felt *ANXIETY* inside. I could feel my heart *POUNDING* in my chest, at my silence, *BEGGING* me to break my silence and ask before it was too late and we passed it by to go to the checkout. My whole body felt weak, wibbly, staticy... but I knew better. I just *KNEW* better so I never did. I managed to ask for one notebook with rainbow-space dolphins on it. That was about all I felt safe asking for. I don't remember if it was Lisa Frank or not, but it made me happy.

Anyway, growing up, my parents never really heard me voice my dysphoria, aside from a simple nod of my head when they asked me if I was "ashamed" of my penis in response to the way I always covered it whenever I was naked, and rushed to put on underwear. I remember crying about it once when they basically detained me from my usual rush to cover myself in the fabric, seemingly trying to figure out what was "wrong" with me, why I was so averse to my bottom-half being naked after bathing when they were both naked But aside from that, they got none of the "typical" "signs" that cis people seem to think are somehow just *UNIVERSAL* to a trans youth. I didn't try on *either* of my parents clothes when I was little. To this day, I still don't get that whole concept. I guess maybe I just saw myself as my own person and less like I was destined to grow into a copy of one of them or the other.

Growing up, I didn't really know much about trans people existing, I didn't know there was a word for it. I remember hearing a joke about a "Sex Change" once in some movie or TV show, and because it was treated as a joke, I didn't think it referred to anything *real* I remember watching a Crocodile Dundee movie, I don't remember which one, and seeing a scene which depicted the main character as heroic for sexually assaulting a trans woman in a bar, grabbing her painfully by the testicles until she collapsed... This only reinforced the idea that people with my kind of body weren't allowed to wear dresses. As the movie put it, she wasn't a "real" woman, she was "really a man," and her genitals served as proof, again, reinforcing to 5 year-old me that I wasn't "allowed" to be a girl. I found story-writing, art, video games, and eventually role-playing Dungeons and Dragons with my friends in high-school as my only outlets for the girl I was, who felt trapped inside a cage of a body I hated, not only for feeling wrong, but for denying me my identity.

I was lucky again to be surrounded by other female friends. When I was about to start 4th grade, my parents decided to move, so I changed schools, and when we did, I was forced to socialize with boys and make male friends. Looking back, it makes me wonder if my guidance counselors had said anything about my chosen feminine socialization, essentially if they had "found me out," for almost exclusively making friends and socializing with other girls. I don't know if that was the case or not, but they were intent on pushing me into friendships with the boys in the neighborhood we were moving into. It didn't work though. A girl moved in next door, and she became my closest friend. I guess my parents left me alone about it because they, and all the kids on the bus figured we were dating, and yeah, I thought she was cute, but there was no return interest. We were just friends, and I loved it that way.

We started hanging out playing this game with all my dinosaur toys where we would give them all names and complex personalities and characters and life stories, and basically role-play out their lives as though they were in some soap opera/reality show. I guess it was kind of like the way a lot of girls play with dolls, we just used dinosaur toys. It was kind of my idea at first, but she got really into it with me and we'd play like this basically every day after school until we got more interested in video games. Even then, we still split time with the dinosaur toys, and I don't think we ever really stopped until late in middle school.

Middle school was a weird time for me. I had started to feel like a social reject/outcast in 4th and 5th grade, but Middle School just got worse. I got these bar-framed glasses that didn't really help matters either. The other kids had started bullying me for my feminine mannerisms, the way I walked, talked, cocked my hips out standing and leaning, used my hands when I talked, carried them in front of me, etc. back in fourth grade, but it just got worse in middle school. Everyone assumed I was a gay boy, and they treated me with that violence. Often it was social, sometimes it got physical, until at a point, I'd had enough, and decided to beat the crap out of one of my bullies to say enough was enough. Everyone said I fought like a girl because I attacked with my legs, but I really didn't care. People compared me to a girl all the time, and I guess it was supposed to bother me, but it never did. Nothing in me wanted to be masculine, or saw femininity as a negative.

When I got to high school, I sort of made my own crowd with a few of the other nerds, two guys I'd known in elementary and middle school, with the addition of one of their older brothers I met, and 3 other nerdy girls, two of whom were goth like me, and we formed a D&D group. I was especially close for a time with one of them who rode my bus, and when we were turning 16 (her birthday was the day before mine), she convinced her parents to let us have a slumber party. We went to see Underworld, and came back to her place, where we hung out and listened to goth rock, burned incense, I got to try some of her hemp chapstick, and in the morning she asked if she could put me in some of her clothes and makeup. Hanging out at school, she and a few of my other friends would remark in a non-bullying, more neutral way on how they felt like I was "such a girl," and I'd just reply that I felt like a "Lesbian trapped in a boy's body." It was something I'd heard one of my older half-brothers say jokingly to his friends once, but I meant it sincerely. When she'd finished dressing me, putting me in makeup, and straightening my hair (something my parents wouldn't let me do), she showed me to myself in the mirror, and said "This is how I see you on the inside." I felt a way I had never felt before in my life. Looking at myself in the mirror, I felt beautiful. I didn't hate what I saw and wish I was different. It felt right, I felt at home. I wanted to stay in that dress and that makeup forever. I told her she was right. She started taking pictures though, and I couldn't deal with that. I cried and asked her to delete them, which she did. She was upset by this, and looking back I wish I hadn't, but I was afraid. Her parents caught us and disciplined her, saying it was inappropriate, and acting like they thought that being dressed up this way was why I was upset. The real reason was I was afraid of being bullied at school, punished by my parents, even kicked out of school.

I still didn't know trans people were a thing, anything at all about transitioning. At school I drew myself as a girl when one of my friends had drawn herself as a boy, and called it a "gender-bend." I made no secret to my friend that I wished that girl I drew was me.

When we played D&D, I started with a male character, a halfling druid, but when he suffered an untimely fate, I switched to two new characters, a female halfling rogue named Sarah, and an Elven witch named Delia, and I never went back. Delia had actually been written up, drawn, and played in a solo campaign before the death of my druid, but as time went on, she became my main in preference to Sarah, though they inhabited two separate campaigns, and really became an outlet for self-expression. I was goth, and obsessed with the paranormal, so was she, I wanted to be sensual, so she was a very sensual woman. I enjoyed swordplay, so she was a fencer. I loved dance, and wanted to dance, she was a dancer. If I'd been assigned female at birth, I wanted to grow to be a sex symbol, like Britney Spears, so she was. She was even a part time dabbler in music. Arguably she had more character and personality than any other character I ever played at the table. I loved playing the campaign she was in. When we did, I jumped up from the table. I threw on an accent. I threw on her personality, and walked around and basically played her actions in role-playing situations, and even in combat, when she did something really cool. My gaming group decided she was a "self-insert character" the Player's Handbook 2 for D&D 4E described as a character meant to represent a fantasized and idealized version of the self, and... she was. True, a lot of her is fantasy, I can't step into the Feywild to hop across a battlefield, or summon undead spirits or turn into a wraith, but for all intents and purposes, she was meant to be the woman I would be in a world where all that was real. She even carried my airheaded lack of common sense, my love of reptiles, books, getting drinks and having a good time, she was more of a rule-breaker, a rebel, and an all around "Bad-girl" than I would've ever believed I'd become in life, but eventually I did. My Dungeons and Dragons Group stayed together through college, and that was the place where I was most comfortable showing myself, even in this limited way, but still not knowing trans people existed, or anything about them until college when I got to go to a gay bar.

One of my friends brought me to Emerald City in Pensacola to see a drag show, and told me that she wanted to do drag king performances, and that I should try out drag performance as a place to unleash my "inner woman," or as she put it my inner Tarja Turunen. I always envied @Tarja. I wished and dreamt of a life where I could be a singer for Nightwish or some other similar woman-fronted hardcore fantasy metal project. So I agreed. I was so excited.

We weren't quite ready to perform ourselves, but the next show we went to, my friends asked if I wanted to dress up and I was thrilled. I borrowed some of my gf's clothes, which she was super-excited about (She had a thing for trans girls), did my makeup and we went. We had been talking about what my drag persona's name should be and my friend suggested that I use "Delia," the same name as my D&D character. She said it was obvious that character was basically me, and it was fitting, so that was my name for the night. I had the time of my life. I felt beautiful, I felt sexy, I felt free. It was a crowded show followed by a dance party. Lesbians were hitting on me, I felt like I could dance and move on the floor the way I wanted without being judged... I felt alive.

When we started doing shows, it felt like a night of the week to get out of my skin, and be myself. I wasn't a traditional queen, I didn't do camp makeup, or wear the outfits they wore, sometimes I even wore pants... I dressed goth, the way I wanted. I did my makeup in goth style, other queens called me "fish," said they thought I was "a real girl," when I did my first routines, tried to teach me the "right" way to do things, suggested I do some Cher instead of Nightwish and Within Temptation. I didn't care. I did things my way. I rocked goth metal, and Dresden Dolls pieces as Harley Quinn. I used it as my stage to either be myself and live my fantasy of being a metal vocal goddess, or portray my favorite characters. To myself, I wasn't a queen. I was me.

I remember one night in my early days I felt I was looking particularly bomb, looking in the mirror saying "Hello You," A hello to myself. I felt like a blossoming woman, opening up like a flower to my little Thursday night life. I still didn't really know what trans people were though. There was a bigender AMAB person working at the bar who had gone through some transitioning procedures, but we didn't really ask her about herself. I felt like it was private, and just used she/her pronouns for her, having been taught it was a sign of respect to do so for the other queens, and to expect other people to do so for me.

Eventually when my coworkers at the mall, and their friends working in the food court found out about my performances, they introduced me to a trans woman named "Debbie" who worked in the food court, and explained that she was born assigned male. The way they described her transition was a bit transphobic. "She used to be a man but then she got her penis turned inside out and now she's a woman." It set the stage for creating an fear of genital reconstructive surgery that would plague me for 6 years.

They didn't say anything about hormone replacement therapy or other procedures, and she never brought it up when we met. I felt it was impolite to ask about her business, and just treated her like any other woman. She gave me makeup, said "hi" when I saw her at the mall, but we didn't interact much outside of that. She called herself my "drag mom." I never learned anything about being trans from her, but she was the first trans person I ever met and knew was trans.

As time went on, I met another trans person named Sammy. She was a friend of a friend, they'd met at University, and I found out a little bit more about being trans. She had no plans on surgery, didn't talk about HRT, or anything like that. She gave me some old wigs. I learned about social transition from her, and my friend suggested that maybe a social transition might be right for me. I gave it some thought, started occasionally going out in public presenting as female. The first time was exciting and scary... It wasn't something I continued very much outside of going to night classes at Pensacola State before drag shows. I was afraid people would think I was weird. In addition my girlfriend at the time started expressing a desire to incorporate feminine presentation into our sex life, and it made me incredibly uncomfortable, and drove me away from female presentation. I didn't know what to call it at the time, but it was dysphoria triggering. Dressing up the way she wanted me to for sex, stuffed bra and everything would just remind me of how much I wasn't a "real" girl, and how much I wished I had been born a cis woman. At the time, I spent a lot of time talking to my friend about my feelings, and she suggested transitioning, but I remarked to her that I was sure it wouldn't feel real. Again I still had no knowledge of HRT, complete misconceptions of surgery... I told her that the only way I thought I would ever be happy would be if I could wave a magic wand or kill myself and be reborn as a "real" girl. (I didn't know the word "cis" at the time. I considered the two trans women I knew as women and respected them as such, but I felt like the only way I could be happy was if I'd been born cis. I wouldn't learn the realities of transition and hormones and surgery for another 6 years.

Eventually the drag shows at EC lost popularity though, and eventually stopped altogether. I lost my outlet, and felt like a chapter of my life had closed. Eventually the drag shows at EC lost popularity though, and eventually stopped altogether. I lost my outlet, and felt like a chapter of my life had closed. My girlfriend and I had broken up shortly before the shows stopped, and I started seeing a new person, who eventually came out as non-binary, but identified outwardly as a cis woman at the time.

We had actually first met through my nextdoor neighbor right before high school started. We went to a football game together in high school, flirted a bit here and there, they'd gone off to a career in adult film and dance after graduating and had just come back home. Eventually, when I came out, they were very supportive, but at the time we started dating, they wanted to "man" me up. When they brought me home to her parents, they said "Are you sure that's not a girl," and they set to work altering my wardrobe. They pushed me to be more masculine in behavior, treated my feminine behaviors less like they were part of my femininity, and were instead something I needed to "outgrow." Wanting to please them, I started trying to put on a mask of masculinity, but I never felt like it stuck, never felt like it was anything but a transparent act. Eventually they left me for a super macho marine, and I spent many nights crying myself to sleep. I couldn't figure out what to do. I told them I could be more masculine for them, that I'd do all sorts of things to make myself more manly, beef up, whatever it took, all the while hating the very idea more than anything. I just wanted them back. At the same time, I cried myself to sleep thinking that maybe I should just "get a sex change" as I put it, but bemoaning the idea of walking around, feeling like a freak, with a boob job and a sensationless inside-out penis that looked nothing like a vulva/vagina. I thought I'd still smell "like a man," my boobs would look fake, my "vagina" would just be a sensationless hole, I felt like bottom surgery was just for people who wanted penis-owners to be able to have sex with them. I didn't think my vagina would be "mine." None of this was true, but it was what I'd been taught about trans people, and it left me in despair. In addition, dating them had been such an intense psychological experience for me, specifically with regard to my transness. I saw in them everything that was the woman I wished I was. They were bold, sexy, shameless. They were a dancer. They had this dominating power and presence when they walked in a room. They knew what they wanted in life, and they got it. At the same time, they were a free spirit, they went where their whims and the wind took them. They dreamed big and lived big. I wanted to be them, so much, on every level, I felt like I had begun to just live through them, wishing I was them, and being apart, it was like I had lost my sense of self. Being with them was like I had found myself, living in another person, being away from them, too scared to be the woman I was inside, the woman I wanted to be, the woman I saw personified in them in so many ways, I was broken, and I almost killed myself.

Instead of transitioning, I turned back to dating to see if I could found what I lost in another person, and it began an incredibly unhealthy relationship I eventually married into. While we were together, I wanted her to be me for me, I wanted to mold her into the woman I wished I was. I wanted to live vicariously through her. It's something I'm incredibly ashamed and not at all proud of. While we were together, before we got married, I became re-acquainted with a friend I'd had in elementary school gifted who had come out as a transgender woman and was planning her own transition. Other friends of hers had seen or heard about my drag performances while that was a thing, and referred them to me for tips on clothing and makeup, but I honestly had a lot more to learn from her.

Other friends of hers had seen or heard about my drag performances while that was a thing, and referred them to me for tips on clothing and makeup, but I honestly had a lot more to learn from her. Even though she hadn't started HRT, she was the first person to teach me that hormone replacement therapy was a thing, and direct me to websites where I could learn more about HRT, and vaginoplasty, and even see my first actual photos of actual vaginoplasty results. It was life changing. For years, all that had held me back were fears rooted in ignorance and misinformation spread by a transphobic society. Those results I saw weren't just a penis turned inside-out. That surgery was more than a science, it was an art-form.  got to read up on vaginoplasty and learn that it was carried out with care, and attention to detail, that my parts were the same basic building blocks, built into a different shape, and that my vulva and vagina would feel, look, and function normally. I learned that nerves were preserved and sensation was there, aesthetics were there, that I'd have a clitoral glans, labia, external sensation, internal sensation, muscular control, and even some wetness from hormones. I learned that hormone replacement would help me grow natural breasts, and change the distribution of my facial and body fat, and even change the way my body smelled. I went to my (then) fiancee, and was so excited to share all this news. She'd been respectful of my friend's pronouns and very friendly with them, and I thought she'd be supportive of me too. She wasn't.

She told me she'd "signed up for a man," and to "shove it back in the closet or else." I'll never forget those words. We got married a little over a year later, but a few months in, when I came out as bigender her family got violent and things started falling apart. She grew distant and cold, snappish whenever she came home to find me presenting as female, it was obvious she was displeased and wanted me to know it. I told her there'd be more days like this coming, and before long she wanted a divorce.

The up side is that I was free to explore myself more, and I very quickly fore-went the idea of being bigender, as it just wasn't me. There are tons of valid bigender people, but no part of me wanted to continue living as a man. I came out as a transgender woman shortly thereafter once I had decided that I wanted to transition socially, and medically with HRT and GRS. That started it's own rough road, but just coming out and making the decision to transition gave me such a sense of wholeness. I guess you could say I'd known who I was for a long time, really on some level my whole life, but I'd been ignoring it, running from it, trying to compromise it, and at the age of 26 I finally accepted myself. To my closest friends, it came as no surprise. "About time," "Took you long enough," They were happy for me and supportive. For some people in my life, denial was the chosen route of coping. For some, who hadn't known me on as deep a level, somehow even for my own mother, the easiest route was to deny it, write it off as something I was doing to please the new partner I started seeing after my ex-wife, act like it was out of the blue, couldn't be true. I feel like that's similar to the experiences of a lot of trans women who come out in life, whether they experience "late onset dysphoria," or whether they simply didn't have the knowledge that trans people existed, the words to use, didn't feel safe expressing...

For me, my dysphoria was there as long as I could remember, I knew I didn't want to be a boy, my body felt foreign, especially my penis. Any idea of becoming traditionally "masculine" hit me with a sense of dread. I just imagined that all boys must want to be girls. Maybe I just had early onset dysphoria, and didn't have the knowledge to identify what my feelings were, the words to express it...

I know I didn't feel safe even once I found some level of expression in High School, even before I knew what transitioning was, outside of confiding in my closest friends. When kids bullied me thinking I was a gay boy, I couldn't stand it. When they just called me out for being feminine/girly, I never really cared. I didn't see it as a negative. I saw it as me. I saw nothing to be ashamed of, but for them it was a cause for violence. To a lot of cis people from the outside though, especially people who don't know me as well, I feel like it would be easy to look at how I came out later on in my 20's and mistake me for experiencing "late-onset" dysphoria. Really I don't like the term...

I don't like the term, or the way it's defined, or talked about. I feel like it erases experiences of dysphoria that many trans people have experienced for a lifetime and simply not had the language to express. When the Wikipedia article on transgender people talks about "Late-Onset" dysphoria, it makes note to say that trans women who come out in their adult life may be more likely to associate sexual feelings with presenting in women's clothing... And I feel like that needs to be addressed, because a lot of women's clothing that you find in adult life is *DESIGNED* *SPECIFICALLY* to sexualize women's bodies, and frankly I find nothing wrong with a woman who's trans feeling sexy in sexy clothes.

And I feel like that needs to be addressed, because a lot of women's clothing that you find in adult life is *DESIGNED* *SPECIFICALLY* to sexualize women's bodies, and frankly I find nothing wrong with a woman who's trans feeling sexy in sexy clothes. Plenty of cis women feel sexy in clothing that are designed to look sexy, and I find nothing wrong with either of these things. There's nothing wrong with being confident, or a woman feeling like she can own her sexuality and be sexy.

Women are the only gender who literally have clothing designed and marketed at us specifically FOR SEX. Let me say that again: We literally have entire sections of clothing at the store designed JUST for sex. At the same time, women's clothing in general, especially for young adults is made specifically to evoke sexuality. It accents curves, fits tight in all the "right" places. It shows off assets. It's covered in symbols of sexuality and romance. And this is also the culture young women are brought into. To look at ourselves, and the clothing rack, and ask "How can I make myself sexy?" "How can I make a mate want me?" "What accents my tits? My ass? My legs?" When you grow into that slowly, I feel like it's a bit less of a shock, but when you just get thrown into that world of skinny jeans and push-up bras and plunging necklines, stockings, fishnets, leg-shaving, and adorning accessories, where even the baggy sweatpants are fuzzy and say "Juicy" on the ass... It's pretty easy to see where one can have a bit of a shocking "Damn, I feel sexy like all the time" reaction, especially before HRT, and you know what, there's nothing wrong with that...

It's perfectly acceptable for a woman to feel sexy in her own skin, and if she's wearing clothing she feels confident and sexy in, then fuck, it's even perfectly normal for her to feel arousal with that confidence... The problem is that society is too quick to demonize women's sexuality, discourage us from *owning* feeling sexy, or enjoying it. Unless it serves a man's pleasure, our sexuality is taboo. We are allowed to be sexy as eye candy, but if a woman *feels* sexy, that's too much. If a woman looks in the mirror and feels confident, or aroused, that's too threatening for a patriarchal society to deal with, but it's a perfectly normal female experience. Straight women get it, lesbians get it, cis women get it, trans women get it. "early onset," or "late onset" has nothing to do with it, but if someone is just finally delving into that world of sexy clothes as a young adult, or even an adult, It's an adjustment. On top of that, women who are trans who come out later in life may not necessarily know the taboos. They didn't grow up in a world of sexual repression the same way that other women have, where sexuality is shamed and shackled from the moment of puberty.

Frankly I feel like we shouldn't care. I feel like no woman should care. I feel like we should all feel free to rebel against the taboos and be as sexual on our own terms as we want.

Another bigger problem, however, and where I severely take issue with the way a likely cis author has chosen to talk about this as though it were in any way abnormal is that society *LOVES* to hypersexualize trans people, specifically trans women, and make it *weird.* And I really feel like all of this stems from the fact that cis people *DO* in fact see us as sexually attractive, which is perfectly normal and acceptable, but can't deal with it on the basis of ingrained transphobia, and have to blow it out of proportion.

That's why trans porn is one of the highest ranking search categories, that's why trans women all over the internet have our inboxes *FLOODED* with men sending dick pics and going on and on about how much they want to "worship a girl-cock." That's why even cis women end up thinking it's okay to just sexually harass trans women out the wazoo with "best of both worlds," bullshit. The truth is that cis people, even when they won't admit it, can't get enough of us and the sexual fascination they experience over the idea of a woman with a penis, or a man with a vagina, and from this side, let me tell you, it gets fucking old. The problem is that because of institutionalized transphobia, even though cis people *DO* find trans people sexually attractive, publicly, y'all aren't *ALLOWED* to. It's taboo, it breaks social conventions, it shakes the idea of cisheteronormativity to its core, and like many sexual taboos, this leads to fetishization, whether closeted or open, and hypersexualization of trans people whether we want it or not. So that when y'all choose to talk about us, or write about us, the focus is on anything and everything sexual y'all can find, and often, in order to maintain a transphobic status quo, to try to make it weird. Literally the way the article reads seems to say between the lines: "Trans women who come out later in life sexualize themselves and women's clothing and experience a fetish and that's weird." It seems *INTENTIONALLY* skewed to portray the sudden but normal adjustment to feeling sexy in clothing specifically designed by a society that sexualizes women to accent everything sexy about us that it can as something *BIZZARE* and *SEXUALLY DEVIANT*

It's normal to feel sexy in clothing designed to sexualize your body. All women experience this to some extent. It's just less of a sudden shock when you've had an adjustment period, and not something that's talked about all the time when it's normal. Basically, it seems like it's trying to portray this so called "Late-Onset" Dysphoria as being synonymous with a cross-dressing fetish, and that's just not okay, not at all.

Trans women who feel sexy in clothing designed to evoke a woman's sexuality aren't experiencing a cross-dressing fetish. They are experiencing a normal part of presenting as female in a society that sexualizes women and designs our clothes to evoke that.

The article also notes that so called "Late-Onset" Dysphoria experiencing trans women are more likely to identify as lesbians... OH BOY. Seems like they are legit *TRYING* to feed into the autogynephelia myth here...

First off, PLENTY of trans women experience attraction to other women, regardless of when our dysphoria started, or when we chose to recognize it as such. I have experienced dysphoria my whole life, and yet I also like women, and my experiences are far from abnormal. *MANY* trans women with early onset dysphoria are lesbians or otherwise sapphic. The problem is that our society is homophobic, and literally associates liking men as a trait of femininity, and liking women as a trait of masculinity, which is wrong. Orientation has no bearing on gender, or vice versa.

Because of this, a trans woman who likes men is more likely to be recognized as trans early on by her parents, friends, and family members, because liking men is one of those things that society looks at and says "OH! You like men! That's a WOMAN thing!" And this is a load of homophobic bullshit. Many men like men, many women like women. Not to sound trite, but we're here, we're queer, and trans or cis, we'd appreciate it if you'd hurry the fuck up and finally get fucking used to it. Conversely a trans woman who likes other women won't have her orientation flagged as a "reason" she should be looked at as more female, so it's easier to escape recognition by her family and friends.

Upon coming out, family and friends may even respond with confusion: "Wait, you like women? So why would you 'want' to *BE* one?" again, a load of homopohobic and transphobic bullshit. Cis gay men aren't gay because they want to be women, otherwise they'd be straight trans women. Lesbian women aren't gay because they want to be men, otherwise they'd be straight trans men. These are two totally different things. Trans people are sick of it, cis queer people are sick of it, and it's about time society stopped conflating who you like with what your gender is. Liking women isn't an inherently male trait. Liking men isn't an inherently feminine trait. Who you like isn't gendered.

Anyway, PLENTY of trans women who have known dysphoria and identified as women since an early age, whether internally or externally like women. So do many who come out later in life. Acting like it's some special artifact of "Late-Onset" dysphoria is erasive, transphobic, and when coupled with bullshit making it seem weird that a trans woman who comes out later in life feels sexy in sexy clothes, it's problematic as fuck. It seems hand-tailored to split trans women into two groups: The *REAL* trans women who wear our mommies' clothes and try to chop off our penises and demand dresses when we are 3 years old, and the *fake* sexual deviant "trans women" who come out later in life.

The reality is that *ALL* trans women are valid, some of us are lesbians, bi, or pan, and *ALL* women have a right to feel sexually empowered when we put on an outfit we feel we look bomb AF in. So, yeah. This "Late-Onset" Dysphoria bullshit is exactly that, bullshit. Not saying that some trans women don't start experiencing and recognizing our identities later in life, so not saying that late-onset dysphoria isn't real, some trans women don't experience dysphoria at all, and that's all valid. What I *AM* saying is that the way the Wikipedia article on trans women has been written (probably by a cis "expert") is dubious at best, ignorant, and transphobic at worst, and furthermore that the only people who have any right *AT ALL* to be *TALKING* or *WRITING* about late onset dysphoria are *SHOCK*: Trans people who experienced it and embrace that concept/narrative. You may notice that I put the "expert" in "cis expert" in quotes earlier. This is because there is no such thing as a "cis expert" on trans people. We are the only experts. Every trans person has more experience with transness than any cis person ever could.

We live trans lives, we experience them from day one. *WE* are the experts. *WE* are the ones who should be in charge of our narratives, and *WE* are the ones who should be deciding whether our dysphoria was "Early-Onset" or "Late-Onset," or even experienced at all.

For trans women who experienced dysphoria later on in life, came out later on in life, for those of you for whom it took years  to come to terms with your gender, you need to know you are valid. You're allowed to be who you are and love who you want. There's no time that's too late to know yourself, to come out, to start your transition, and you are allowed to feel sexy in whatever clothing you want, and should be free to do so without cis people acting like it's a fetish. You deserve to know that it's normal to feel sexy in clothes that your body rocks, and that you're no different from any other woman, "early-onset" dysphoric trans women, cis women, or trans women who experience no dysphoria, and just know their identity as women.

For cis people... Seriously, cut this bullshit out and stop acting like trans people are weirdly hypersexual or sexual deviants just because y'all want to hypersexualize us out of your own insecurities with finding us attractive. And stop acting like you know what is and isn't "normal" for trans people, or how we experience and express dysphoria. If anything a lot of what y'all term "Late-Onset" Dysphoria is more likely stories like mine... Stories of trans women who knew dysphoria early, but had no language for it, who knew we weren't boys, but also knew that we weren't allowed to be girls, who knew on account of y'all's transphobia that there were *CONSEQUENCES* to asking for the clothes we wanted... consequences for announcing that we were girls, that we felt like we were girls, that we were uncomfortable in our bodies and wished they were different...

Literally, I'm willing to bet that 90% of the time that a trans person comes out later in life, it's literally cis people's fault for creating an environment of hostility and violence towards trans people who do come out. If any repression comes with that, it's similarly also y'all's fault. If you want to fix it, then change trans-focused media to hire trans actors to depict trans people, and trans writers to write our characters and stories. Change the education system to teach about trans people in schools at an early age so that even if we don't learn at home, or have parents who want to prevent us from knowing ourselves, we can learn that we are valid, and be able to acknowledge that and communicate it early.

Seriously, you don't have to make us sexual. It can be as simple as "Some people who are labeled as boys at birth feel like girls and are really girls. Some people who are labeled as girls at birth feel like boys and are really boys." Very G-rated. and even better, throw in "Some people don't feel like either of those labels fits, and might be nonbinary, or not have a gender at all and be agender." "Some people feel like where they fit changes from time to time and are genderfluid." Actually talk about the word "gender" and what it is and means instead of copping out saying "it's a polite way to say sex," when sex and gender are two separate constructs. Let trans people be the ones who tell *Y'ALL* what our experiences are like instead of trying to guess from the other side of the fence based on what your existing transphobic institutions have spoon fed to you to make us seem "weird" and wrong.

Basically, if you're not trans, and you feel like going and typing on a public resource what you feel like we are and aren't, and how you want to define our narratives that you don't experience, kindly shut up, and let us speak for ourselves. We aren't yours to categorize and define, we categorize and define ourselves. It's kind of the essence of being trans. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[betaronpav3]

Meet the girls!~

Now that the rules are set, let's talk about the characters! Here are some descriptions but of course their personalities are a bit more...complex than that.

We first go with the girls~

(Note: I don't have colored references for the moment. I'll of course edit this post with their final refs every time I finish one.)

1- Kaede Akamatsu - Ultimate Jazz Musician

Kaede is the protagonist of this killing game. She is an optimistic and friendly girl (quite a social butterfly if you want my opinion). Really attentive and helpful, it seems she has a really good earing but tends to hide this quality, being afraid she could bore someone if she talks about this too often (same go with her music talents)...This bad habit of her make people thinks she is too modest. Even if she doesn't want to brag about her talent and music in general...she sometimes does some wordplay about music. Despite that, Kaede probably is the only character in the killing game who still stay strong and keep hoping during the whole story...bringing positive emotions to her friends, preventing them to fall into despair... 

2- Miu Iruma - Ultimate Mechanics 

Miu is some kind of comic relief in the whole killing game...and also a "moral support". Actually, Miu is really smart and full of knowledge... but she pretends to be dumb because of a bad story of her past (she's afraid that people would hate her if she's "superior"). She has exaggerated reactions to everything and is pretty loud during the whole story...except when she's with Kaede, the only person who knows the true her. She also most of the time has a lollipop or a chewing gum in her mouth. Miu is one of the three survivors of this killing game and become Kaede's "partner" because of her loyalty toward her. 

3- Tsumugi Shirogane - Ultimate Mangaka

Tsumugi, like Kokichi, is quite shy. She isn't good with group conversations and  seems to be afraid of crowds. It's difficult for her to talk without stuttering and hyperventilates when she is embarrassed. The only way to make her talk on and on is to ask questions about her talent or about mangas in general...but when she realizes she was talking to much she apologizes until no end and runs away. Tsumugi was supposed to be the mastermind but she got killed during the first chapter...leaving her place to someone else. 

4- Himiko Yumeno - Ultimate Oneirologist 

In this AU, Himiko studies dreams... that's quite ironic because she has sleep problems! Anyway... this time Himiko isn't a mage but a magical girl! She tends to proclaim she has powers which allow her to protect people from their nightmares and hidden traumas. The others consider her as the class mascot because of her "cute" behaviors and her bubbly personality...even if she has the bad habit to fall asleep anywhere because of her problems... She got killed during the second chapter.

5- Tenko Chabashira - Ultimate Shinobi 

Tenko is a tomboy girl with a energetic personality. If you want some comparaison... I'll say she is somewhere between Ibuki and Akane?  Tenko, in this AU, doesn't have any problems with boys and actually prefers their company. She seems to absolutely distrust women and doesn't like to be associate to them (that's why she's using "shinobi" instead of "kunoichi", the female word for "ninjas"). She tends to say "de gozaru" in the end of her sentences (a lot of ninjas characters use this so why not her? lol). She murdered (by accident) Himiko and got executed during the second chapter. 

6- Kirumi Tojo - Ultimate Seamstress

Kirumi is a quiet woman with a relaxed nature. At first people thought she was mute but they heard her talking with Korekiyo... She's actually his personal maid (and probably his personal tailor too) and only talk to him...except if it's important (then she talks to the others)... It's not like she's shy no no... She actually has trust issues. She got killed during the third chapter.

7- Maki Harukawa - Ultimate Baker / Ultimate Weapon

Maki is a sweet, gentle and cute girl...well...a total waifu material in fact. She is the one who makes food for everyone everyday and does her best to help and motivate the whole group...Perfect isn't she? Well... Miu found her quite suspicious and...she was right about it. Maki is actually a bloodthirsty human weapon trained to kill everyone who is in her way. She likes to see dead bodies and seems to have a blood kink. She murdered Korekiyo and Kirumi during the third chapter and of course got executed for it. 

8- Angie Yonaga - Ultimate Painter

Angie is a quite eccentric girl who seems disconnected to reality. Every time with her head in the clouds she is always searching for inspiration and sometimes does weird things to find it. Music is actually a good way for her to find inspiration because of her synesthesia...so you can see her chasing after Kaede for music. She always has a smile plated on her face...people sometimes wonder if she actually has emotions. She comes from a distant island so her Japanese isn't perfect. She murdered Gonta and got executed during the fourth chapter.

Bonus Character Number One - Kami Harukawa

In this AU, it's not Kaede who has a twin sister but Maki. Kami is somehow the opposite of her sister. She is a cold and violent woman who hides her gentle and soft personality. More informations will come later if you're interested.

Well I’m done with the girls~ I hope you like them!  If you have any questions to them...or me...feel free to ask! (and sorry for my bad English again ;; )

Have a nice day! <3

[reconditarmonia]

Dear Yuletide Author

Edit 3:10pm Eastern Time 10/23/18: All prompts added now, thank you for your patience.

Hello, lovely writer!

I’m reconditarmonia here and on AO3 (and have been since LJ days, but my LJ is locked down and I only have a DW to see locked things). I have anon messaging off, but mods should be able to contact me if you have any questions.

Far From the Madding Crowd | Harlots | Monstrous Regiment | Simoun | Spinning Silver

General likes:

– Relationships that aren’t built on romance or attraction. They can be romantic or sexual as well, but my favorite ships are all ones where it would still be interesting or compelling if the romantic component never materialized.

– Loyalty kink, whether commander-subordinate or comrades-in-arms, and the trust associated with it. Sometimes-but-not-always relatedly, idealism. I guess the two combined might be, in general, the idea of nobility of character and what that means.

– Heists, or other stories where there’s a lot of planning and then we see how the plan goes.

– Femslash, complicated or intense relationships between women, and female-centric gen. Women doing “male” stuff.

– Stories whose emotional climax or resolution isn’t the sex scene, if there is one.

– Uniforms/costumes/clothing.

– Stories, history, and performance. What gets told and how, what doesn’t get told or written down, behavior in a society where everyone’s consuming media and aware of its tropes, how people create their personas and script their own lines.

– Eucatastrophe.

General DNW: rape/dubcon, torture, other creative gore; unrequested AUs, including “same setting, different rules” AUs such as soulmates/soulbonds; PWP; food sex; focus on pregnancy; Christmas/Christian themes.

—

Fandom: Far From the Madding Crowd

Character(s): Bathsheba Everdene

One thing that always sticks in my mind about this novel is the way Hardy calls Bathsheba “the young farmer” just as he refers to the men as farmers - which, just saying, is more than most people writing about this story can do - and so, that being the case, what I’m most interested in is something about Bathsheba as farmer. One day in the life or four seasons in the life or five plantings/harvests in the life, or pseudo-academic fic about a case study of a woman farmer in the Victorian era, or a conflict between the farm and nature that Bathsheba has to decide how to solve.

Feel free to bring in other characters if it suits what you’re trying to do, but what I’m really looking for is a focus on Bathsheba’s work, determination, and process of learning. Other ideas: something like a merchant ship AU (as the first alternate setting that came to mind where it would be not exactly the done thing for her to captain her inherited ship and make commercial decisions herself - although I do have to point out that contrary to popular belief, there were a lot of women on shipboard in the age of sail, may this be useful - but also where nature and luck/fate are as influential as they are in the original setting); something in which the land, superstition, and ritual are more overtly magical; or interactive fiction!

—

Fandom: Harlots

Character(s): Margaret Wells

So Harlots almost immediately became one of my favorite shows of all time, for its strong and complex female characters, all major plots/conflicts being between women, and the feminist ethos informing both the filming (with this premise there could have been a LOT of actress nudity and titillating rape, in other hands) and the writing - I find the scene in s2 where Margaret leads the crowd in turning their backs on Nancy’s whipping very moving, because it’s one moment that emphasizes that the show’s feminism isn’t just “look, horrible things happening to women, whatcha gonna do” but instead thinks about the next step of women supporting each other against the system. (Kitty’s thoughts about a collective are another one.) I wasn’t sure at first what I wanted to request here, but starting to explain for you why I like the show made me think wherever you take the idea of writing about Margaret, I’d want to see her in the context of other women. This could be pre-canon (I’m not particularly interested in very young Margaret, but Margaret beginning to establish her own house, hiring her own girls for the first time, and contending with Lydia Quigley as a rival, I’d love to see; or deciding to move to Greek Street?) or post-canon (who does she meet? what does she do???) She’s such a powerful character but also so morally ambivalent - what kinds of positions can you put her in where she has to choose how or whether to protect those under her authority, or further her own ambition and that of the people she chooses? What is loyalty, anyway? (I'd be up for post-canon fic with her and Charlotte, but I don’t think I would want to read an expansion of her selling Charlotte in the canon backstory.) Throw in anyone you like if that helps you tell the story - it’s such a good ensemble show.

If you, like me, ship Margaret with Nancy and were psyched when they got to kiss and Nancy told Charlotte she loved Margaret, I have some prompts for the ship in a previous letter. TL;DR: I’m especially interested in Margaret/Nancy as partners-as-family and what that means to them, and in how Margaret fits into Nancy’s relationship to intimacy.

If you’d prefer to write this instead of writing about Margaret, I would also be 100% just as happy with fic about the whole fucked-up relationship between Charlotte and Lydia in season 2 (I LOVE “ultra-loyal and beloved henchman secretly plotting revenge” plots, their scenes together are so good! I was sorry that that plot didn’t carry on for longer - honestly, you could write a canon divergence AU where the secret isn’t revealed so soon and Charlotte becomes more and more compromised and I would be delighted), something focusing on either of those two individually (pre-canon Lydia setting up her house? choosing her aesthetic? post-canon Lydia manipulating her way out of Bedlam?), or something about Nancy (her lifestyle is so unconventional but it works for her and people around her mostly roll with it). Again, preferably with reference to other women, rather than men.

Something that I really like about the show, which would be neat to see in fic somehow, is that it feels real and lived-in. So many costume dramas feel costumed, but at least to me, the sets and costumes of Harlots feel like houses people live and work in and clothes people wear; we occasionally see a shift under the dress, women put on a fichu over a dress or deal with their corsets, they move like they’re used to wearing this. I love daily-life type history, and people being people in history, so those sorts of details would make me really happy. (I have tags “documents” and  “history” for stuff that might interest you if you also like that sort of thing.) I also really like the moments of theatricality and ritual like Mary Cooper and Kitty Carter’s funeral processions.

Fandom-Specific Exception to DNW: I recognize that rape and dubcon are endemic to the canon and I don’t expect you to avoid all reference to them, but would prefer not to have them described in detail, or to dwell on specific instances.

—

Fandom: Monstrous Regiment

Character(s): Any (Polly “Ozzer” Perks, Maladict, Jackrum, Mildred Froc)

I’m not going to lie, Polly is one of my all-time faves. I like that this could have been a generic coming-of-age or women-in-war story, where the protagonist learns that she’s brave or worthwhile and then the crisis is past, but instead Polly learns that she’s a cunning bastard and a hell of a sergeant, and being a one-off hero in a country that’s at peace and making slow social progress isn’t good enough for her. That said, just because I’m better able to articulate what I like about Polly doesn’t mean I’d be less excited for fic about anyone else! Honestly, one of the things I like best about the story as a whole is the varying degrees of competence porn - people learning what they’re good at and doing it - and that’s something that could apply to any character here. What are they good at? What lets them fulfill their potential? What do they want when their hand isn’t being forced? So, say, how’d Jackrum go from enlisting for Reasons to being the career sergeant of canon? Any other adventures worth recounting? What are Polly or Mal’s long-term plans, since their original goals seemed so short-term - or, what led Froc to enlist and stay? What can Mal do with the intimidating coolness and/or the potential berserker rage?

There’s a lot of potential for romantic and/or platonic loyalty kink with this character set, and I’d love something that went there. Characters rescuing each other from peril, risking themselves (their safety, reputation, position, ethics, secrets, goals, honor) to defend each other (ditto ditto), accomplishing the impossible or sacrificing things without even thinking twice because one trusts the other’s orders or judgment. Or A not going off the leash or into danger to defend B because B said not to (the "call off your dog" thing), to protect A’s conscience or life or reputation. Polly sends Mal on a dangerous mission; Mal goes off-leash rescuing Polly; something about the post-canon rank difference on top of the class difference (Mal is wealthy and cultured and typical commission material and yet is a corporal under Sergeant Perks’s command); Polly protects Jackrum’s secret/s from someone who could reveal them; an expansion of Jackrum and Froc’s backstory; anything about Froc’s whole relationship to the Duchess over the years as one of the few left who met her in person... Or for Polly/Mal in particular, I’d be into high sexual tension and/or mutual pining whether from near (if they continue serving in the same regiment, essentially together all the time and unable to act on it) or from far (what if the job separated them - LDR, epistolary?).

This is a perennial request for me and I have previous letters in the “dear author letters” tag if you’d like more info.

Fandom-Specific DNW: gender headcanons (I'm sorry, I can't figure out the right way to phrase this, but I'm happy to provide clarification via mod question or whatever); vampire romance tropes (such as turning or immortality) as focus.

—

Fandom: Simoun

Character(s): Any (Aeru, Amuria, Dominuura, Halconf, Limone, Mamiina, Neviril, Onasia, Paraietta, Plumbish Priestesses, Rodoreamon, Yun)

Simoun is another one of my perennial requests. I love how, in the mold of all my favorite epic yuri/shoujo animes, Everything Is Beautiful And Then Shit Gets Real, and that's not just an out-of-universe fact of the show but something that the characters themselves, who are "supposed" to be priestesses and not an air force, have to deal with. (Neviril's scene in the hearing is one of my favorites.) I enjoy that everyone comes in for different reasons - religious, patriotic, ambitious, interpersonal, gender-related - and has different ways of solving problems, their very deep flaws but also very deep nobility, and how everyone gets character development in the sense of growing and changing.

I'd love to see something that worked with that military aspect of the canon and the in-story tension of it - if you focus on more than one character, the way that the superior-subordinate dynamics or comrades-in-arms dynamics, and the different ways they behave under pressure (cheerful Aeru when she encounters the downed enemy pilot), sit alongside other dynamics (like Mamiina and Rodoreamon's childhood backstory/class thing) and don't always develop at the same pace, but single-character fic about the choices they have to make and how they think about them, as their situation changes, would be great too. What about more of Yun's backstory, for example? Hell, what's going on in Halconf's life and mind as someone who used to be a sibylla but now has quite a different role in the war as the sibylla position has changed? Or, what about in the post-canon where war is brewing again but Paraietta and Rodoreamon can't fly the Simoun anymore, and Neviril and Aeru might be able to but Neviril has no one to lead, unless it's a whole new crop of maidens? What do they want to do, and what skills are they still able to use? (Feel free to re-unite characters that are separated by canon - resurrect Mamiina, bring characters back from other worlds - if that's what you want to do with the story, although I think I'd prefer for that to be something that's acknowledged in-story as due to magic or alternate worlds rather than tacitly retconned.)

As with some of the other fandoms I've requested, I'm interested in the different permutations of loyalty - loyalty to a position or an ideal over loyalty to a side, such as the Plumbish priestesses'; something fleshing out the chorus's devoted loyalty to and trust in Neviril in a high-stakes situation where she's able to return it; interpersonal loyalty and how that interacts with love, requited or articulated or not (Mamiina and the braid, Paraietta's everything); loyalty that develops before liking or friendship does. Femslash is great, gen is great. This is a fandom where sexual first times would tie into the canon's themes in a lot of ways, if you're interested in writing that. Other things that would be cool: time loops or other timespace play, to go with the magic and timespace warping in the show? Interactive fiction? Have our leads learn more about Argentum and Plumbum and meet people from there?

Fandom-Specific DNW/Exception: I don't need you to retcon the attempted assault(s), but please don't dwell on them. No Dominuura/Limone, please.

—

Fandom: Spinning Silver

Character(s): Miryem Mandelstam

So there's definitely a common theme in a lot of my prompts and it's that I like hard-headed, practical, ambitious women who get into adventures because of, rather than in spite of, those qualities. I really like Miryem's good sense, pride, and rules-lawyering, and the way her power in the world becomes magic power in the Staryk world. In general, I also really like the way the book integrates various fairytales with one another and with the situation of Jews in Eastern Europe. What happens when Miryem is back in the human world, post-canon? I never got the impression that she'd be happy just avoiding the whole question of the town's contempt for her by finding power elsewhere - what's it like if she comes back a queen? (Can she use the mirror from Irina to do an end run around the whole Persephone setup and travel back and forth whenever she wants, and if so, what sorts of plot would make that fun to play with? If not, that's still fine.) Or, what are some adventures in the Staryk world where she could use her Accounting Powers, other than the post-war rebuilding the book talks about? Or tell me more about Miryem practicing Judaism in the Staryk world, and the application of Judaism to that world and those customs that we get some hints of (that's a hell of a diaspora - what would the rabbis think of it?)

I would be delighted by Miryem/Irina. Two queens with very different kinds of power, and different ideas of where their commitment lies - Miryem's to "her people" whether that's her family/other Jews/the Staryk who have bound themselves to her, Irina's to "Lithvas" - and what's consistent with their own ethics to fulfill those commitments. Widow them both and have the ultimate human world-Staryk world power marriage? A more serious rivalshippy thing where you make Miryem and Irina deal with the fact that they're respectively a Jewish queen of a super-powerful magic country and the queen of a largely anti-Semitic country who's not totally free from those beliefs herself? (I should mention that I am explicitly okay with the story touching on anti-Semitism or having anti-Semitism as a central issue.) What about different court traditions, when they visit each other? I would be delighted by Miryem/Wanda. I liked the early development of their relationship and wished we'd had more of that later in the story. How would Wanda's gratitude to Miryem and the Mandelstams play in a land that views gratitude so differently from the human world? Might Wanda's real-world "magic", like the reading and writing Miryem gave her, manifest differently in the Staryk world too? Do you want to go full Tam Lin and have Wanda rescue Miryem from the Staryk world? Would Wanda ever consider converting to Judaism? What if she's less settling into comfortable forest retirement and more becoming a magical gatekeeper of Miryem's land in her own way? I would be delighted by Miryem/f!Staryk Lord! What changes if the otherworldly monarch who claims Miryem's hand, bringing her into a new world of customs unfamiliar to her and power she hasn't known before, is also a woman?

Feel free to include Wanda or Irina even if it's not a femslash story, Tsop or Flek, or anyone else you need. (Rule 63 Mirnatius could also be really interesting, although I know that's potentially a lot to just throw into the background of a story about Miryem, so male Mirnatius or male Staryk Lord are fine too, if they're not the focus of the story.) Or, ignore all the characters, including Miryem, and tell me another fairytale, or combination of fairytales, about the Staryk and the Jews.

Fandom-Specific DNW: I don't need you to retcon Miryem/Staryk or Irina/Mirnatius if you'd rather not (including if you're writing any of the femslash options - plenty of historical royalty had lovers), but I'm not interested in those ships unless genderswapped to f/f, and would not like fic About them.

[intro2filmbitterrootcollege]

The Most Affecting Films of 2017

I love putting this list together because a.) I’m a film geek and own it, b.) this writing exercise is cheaper than therapy, and c.) it helps me discover previously unrecognized themes shared across my selections. The thread of history runs through these picks, that of nations as well as the complex and messy relationships between parents and children. History is parent to our present, and thus the thematic through line of my favorite movies of 2017. Each title brought me to tears or rented space in my mind for days after the initial viewing, often both, but earned this response through quality of storytelling.

Choosing my top ten was difficult (see the following “Runners Up List” for evidence) because 2017 was a fine year in film. We should celebrate cinema, and the opportunity to do so, as long as it remains this dynamic.

-Matt

Honorable Mention: Their Finest

Directed by Lone Scherfig

Written by Gaby Chappe and Lissa Evans

A movie celebrating storytelling and writing, chronicling the making of a movie about the Dunkirk rescue, set in England during the Blitz, addressing the role women played in the war effort, packed with an embarrassment of Britain’s best character actors, exploring how cinema’s escape can help heal us in times of crisis, and that is also a love story has no right to work. Scherfig’s film defies such limitations and hops between these aspects like a trapeze artist. It’s a crowd-pleaser, a heartbreaker, and a movie celebrating movies, all buoyed by Gemma Arterton in the lead.

10.  The Lost City of Z

Written and Directed by James Gray

Cinematography by Darius Khondji

The real Percy Fawcett’s 1925 disappearance in the Brazilian jungle provides an unanswerable question that hangs over Gray’s film as he endeavors to explore mysteries of the egocentric self through immersion in the natural world. Like the protagonist, this seems simultaneously paradoxical and fitting.

Some clever non-linear editing and a final shot of Nina Fawcett, the only actual hero here, walking into the reflected image of a jungle, make for a lingering metaphor on those understandings our hearts are granted, and those we can never attain.

9.  Toni Erdmann*

Written and Directed by Maren Arden

When I thought this dark European comedy couldn’t get more surreal or funny, it didn’t, but instead ends with a peerless final beat, then drops The Cure’s “Plainsong” over the credits.

Cut to me radiant with joy at what cinema makes possible.

Hollywood stories of parents and children aren’t ever this delightfully weird, or dappled with scenes that let us find our own insights about economic disparity, sexism, and capitalism’s darker outcomes. Hollywood stories aren’t ever this genuine.

Maren Arden proves herself a visionary, not just among up-and-coming female directors, but all directors, and since her open-ended final scene is perfection, I’ll let the last dialogue in her script finish the same way:

The problem is, [life is] so often about getting things done. And then you still have to do this, or that. And, in the meantime, life just passes by. But how are we supposed to hang on to moments?

* released in 2016 but I had no way to see it until 2017

8.  The Big Sick

Directed by Michael Showalter

Written by Emily V. Gordon & Kumail Nanjiani

Gordon and Nanjiani’s story (based on the origin of their own marriage) took me two viewings across two seasons to relent and finally love it. Now it has my whole heart thanks to an earned emotional response and a script respecting the perspectives of all its characters. Likely the best screenplay of the year that might not be recognized as such, stand up comedy and parents are rarely revealed onscreen with such nuance, and never before in the same film.

7.  Five Came Back

Written by Mark Harris (based on his book Five Came Back: A Story of Hollywood and the Second World War)

Directed by Laurent Bouzereau

This three-part Netflix documentary chronicles the contributions from five of the top directors in Hollywood during WWII, many of whom gave up lucrative careers to serve the war effort via their craft. We see how filmmaking and storytelling, as the translation of fact and occurrence through moving image, can be a weapon and should be used with care. The stories of these five directors and how their lives and art were impacted by the conflict is engagingly humane. And the talking heads (aka legendary current filmmakers) are so damn insightful. MVP being Guillermo Del Toro. 

We celebrate such humanity, and in it our own, flawed and beautiful as both might be. This is best captured in Capra’s final voiceover proposing hope where it is needed.

6.  Wind River

Written and Directed by Taylor Sheridan

Sheridan’s crime-as-myth story is most concerned with grief and the ways we numb ourselves to pain at the cost of the memories of loved ones lost. Winter and the West stand in a neo-western backdrop where he colors the idea of how struggle can hollow out even the strongest among us.

We get our genre kicks in the Mexican Standoff shootout (praise to the screenplay-rulebook shredding use of editing and a flashback to set up this reckoning). The patience in ending his film with not one but two conversation scenes shows a preference for empathy over spectacle, and the way the injured souls connect therein haunts me.

5.  Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri

Written and Directed by Martin McDonagh

I enjoy being challenged by a film. McDonagh’s picture beat the shit out of me then tossed me a lollipop, and I beamed like a lovestruck idiot. An early reference to “A Good Man is Hard to Find” alludes that that there will be no predominant tone to cling to but instead a vacillation of many throughout this winding trip into darkness where any good that exists is a miracle. In the final scene and sublime character change of Sam Rockwell’s Officer Dixon, it does.

4. Blade Runner 2049

Directed by Denis Villeneuve

Cinematography by Roger Deakins

There wasn’t a more thoughtful film this year than Deakins’ visual magnum opus. The intelligence expected of Villeneuve surfaces throughout in beautifully complex questions about life, witnessing, and how we achieve our sense of identity.

The choice of Gosling’s K / Joe as protagonist, his illusory sense of importance as the “one” and what is done with this concept, shows how important it is to value the willingness to make choices, even when they seem tiny and tossed into the void. In Joi, he may have found a facsimile of love, or he may have actually found it. In response, we question our right to declare another’s life or love “artificial”.  The Hero’s Journey archetype is so common that it’s almost instinctive. Villeneuve subverts these expectations by stripping heroic action to its purest and leaving us with K / Joe’s not-tears in the ashen snow.

The acting is typically strong because, while he isn’t noticed for it, Villeneuve always gets strong work from his actors. Through one of Harrison Ford’s best performances, the theme of parents, children, and sacrifices made just for the latter’s prospect of a better life is most poignantly rendered in one line: “Sometimes to love someone, you got to be a stranger.” As 2017’s best sympathetic villain, Luv doesn’t possess the freedom of her inferior replicants; she is bound to Wallace, a slave in her programming. Wanting to be special, to be the “best one”. This denied want and inability to make her own choices, to create life and be alive, warp her into a destructive force seeking to stomp out anything that reminds her of her chains. Leto’s megalomaniac Wallace is a god-aspiring big bad in the Greek chorus role, showing up to voice the film’s themes but in a way that avoids ponderousness.

I could write an essay on this film. (Note to self: write more essays on films.)

3.  Lady Bird

Written and Directed by Greta Gerwig

Gerwig’s work is so accomplished that my mind boggles when contextualizing it as her first directed film. The movie world exists here as specific enough to leap outside of time and place in that mysterious dynamic of singular-becoming-universal. Coming of age stories with comedy draped around them, or them around it, are usually judgemental of broad supporting characters who get portrayed in one shade only. This film is so balanced and sympathetic to its people, and I say “people” with intention, that we turn from cursing them to pitying to loving as fluidly as we do from laughing to choking up. The final sequence might be the year’s most affecting editing through a use of different characters in essentially the same shot, and shows that car chases have nothing on cross-cutting between drivers in the Sacramento magic hour.

2.  Columbus

Written and Directed by Kogonada

Sheila O’Malley in her Rogerebert.com review:

"Columbus" is a movie about the experience of looking, the interior space that opens up when you devote yourself to looking at something, receptive to the messages it might have for you. Movies (the best ones anyway) are the same way. Looking at something in a concentrated way requires a mind-shift. Sometimes it takes time for the work to even reach you, since there's so much mental ballast in the way. The best directors point to things, saying, in essence: "Look." I haven't been able to get "Columbus" out of my mind.

Wholeheartedly agreed. It clung to me. First time director Kogonada gives us an immaculate use of the frame and mise en scene. My eyes wanted desperately to eat the screen, each and every frame a morsel. And my entire being wanted to remain in the film’s world. Sadness and all.

Kogonada’s work isn’t all visual gloss but uses stillness and subdued conversations to belie an emotional tempest inside each of the two characters. This is a romance, but one just as in thrall with life as it is with clean modernist lines and the creation of form through negative space that here symbolizes those unknowable aspects of Jin and Casey (Haley Lu Richardson lights the screen in my favorite performance this year), and by extension those they love. We carry our parents with us just as these buildings carry their histories. Columbus’ characters need to navigate the empty spaces in and around themselves to connect, even if fleetingly.

1.  Dunkirk

Written and Directed by Christopher Nolan

Cinematography by Hoyte Van Hoytema

Score by Hans Zimmer

I can rightfully be called a Christopher Nolan fanboy, but there’s no arguing the viscerality of this experiment. Nolan, Hoyte Van Hoytema, Hans Zimmer, and the rest of their collaborators crafted a singular war film that really isn’t a war film. It’s a story more existential. Time is elided, shattered, and edited with an exactitude that comments on history unlike any other movie in this genre.

That audiences responded to a story asking them to participate, emotionally and physically, but learn little of its characters is also fitting for the theme of people choosing to risk their own well being for the betterment of others. The lesson is to put aside your wants and let an experience take you.

The propulsive score, like the tension, never relents. How such induced anxiety can be thrilling is for later study (and this film will be studied for decades hence). It’s the notion, however, that I can be brought to tears by the shot of a Spitfire coasting across sky, out of gas but not fight, by small boats dotting the sea that are referred to as “Home”, and by Mark Rylance simply nodding to his son in acknowledgement that the right thing to do is often an act of empathy running against our in-the-moment emotional surge, that belies an elegance words can represent, but only sound and image can actually invite you to feel.

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We are born into a box of space and time. We are who and when and what we are and we're going to be that person until we die. But if we remain only that person, we will never grow and we will never change and things will never get better.

Movies are the most powerful empathy machine in all the arts. When I go to a great movie I can live somebody else's life for a while. I can walk in somebody else's shoes. I can see what it feels like to be a member of a different gender, a different race, a different economic class, to live in a different time, to have a different belief.

This is a freeing influence on me. It gives me a broader mind. It helps me to join my family of men and women on this planet. It helps me to identify with them, so I'm not just stuck being myself, day after day.

The great movies enlarge us, they civilize us, they make us more decent people.

-Roger Ebert

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Promising 2017 releases that I haven’t seen yet and might vie for retroactive inclusion on either this or the “Runners Up” list:

Star Wars: The Last Jedi

The Disaster Artist

Darkest Hour

Mudbound

First They Killed My Father

Spielberg

The Post

Molly’s Game

Phantom Thread

The Shape of Water