#trying to tell myself i’m allowed to be high and watch a movie without doing another task. i can just sit here i don’t have to be doing

[mildmayfoxe]

i’m watching spirited away for the first time in probably a decade and i can’t believe i forgot about the giant baby. and the greenheads. but joe hisaishi serving as always

[wandascrush]

Please don’t say you love me

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Summary: Your new girlfriend has such a nice home, with so many secrets

Warnings: lies, death, deception, kissing, crying

A/N: A reupload!

The soft scent of lavender and vanilla on Wandas skin was intoxicating. You lied on top of her, legs intertwined and breasts touching one another as you woke her up with kisses. She giggled and touched your hips gently, you felt her let out a happy sigh as she flipped you over and nuzzled her face into the side of your neck. Your chest felt endlessly warm as you started your day with laughter. It was the first night you spent with Wanda, sleeping over in her bed, both comfortably naked, waking up together. Since you two had started dating three months ago, it had always been at your place, not that you minded. 

Her hot breath fanned your ear, “I gotta get ready for work baby. Do you wanna stay here until I get back?” You heard the hesitation in her voice, “mhm m’kay sounds good bear.” 

 Two months earlier

“Wanda, baby, how much honey did you put in this oatmeal?”  you sat on her lap, trying not to wince at the sugary-ness of

“Hmph, only about 6 tablespoons for your bowl why?”

“6 TABLESPOONS? YOU BEAR,” your laugh echoed around the room. 

Her eyes were wide as she looked at you with faux suprise, “I love honey what can I say? I guess I am a bear,” she chuckled and rested her chin on your arm. 

 “It’s okay, you’re my bear.”

End of memory

She kissed the top of your head before you felt the side of the bed dip and heard her light footsteps to the bathroom. You adored her. A few hours later you woke up again with a rumble in your stomach asking for food. You stretched and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes before  picking up your phone and reading a text from Wanda: 

I'll be home by 5, rest well sweetheart.

It was hard not to notice how meticulously clean Wanda's house was, couch pillows fluffed and in perfect corners, dishes and platters stacked in unison and color coordinated. Even her cereal boxes were stuck straight, organized from sweetest to least sweet. As new as her home was to you, something about it felt so familiar, so homely that you felt you'd lived here for years. The unfamiliarity of it all didn't scare you much, it excited you to build a new relationship from scratch. While you blindly rummaged through her cabinets looking for a morsel of food to eat, a voice boomed from above.

“Ms. L/N, may I assist you in finding a suitable meal for breakfast? I know cooking isn’t your strong suit.”

You spun around and your heart nearly leapt out of your chest. No one was there.

“H-hello? Who-where are you?”

“Ah my apologies, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Jarvis, an AI assigned to Ms. Maximoff by Mr. Stark. I help her with her domestic tasks and accompany any guests to make sure they are comfortable.”

You noticed whenever he spoke, the ceiling lights cast a light blue over the room. It was hard to get used to the fact that everything in Wandas home was high-tech, even her daily assistant. 

“Sure, thank you. It’s lovely to make your acquaintance Jarvis.” Without another word, the stove turned on by itself and the fridge opened up and pushed a carton of eggs into your hands. The fridge was practically telling you what to cook. You were awestruck.

A few hours later after watching a movie, doing some work, and even pestering Jarvis with question about himself, you got bored and decided to look around. You wandered through all the rooms, scanned through the books on the shelves, turning to go back to the couch when you accidentally knocked a vase off the tv stand. 

Instead of it breaking, it tilted on the edge of the mantle, resting like an open lid…huh. 

       Your eyes squinted closely when you noticed a small black button under the bottom of the vase. Press it or not, press it or not, you couldn’t decide. You didn’t want to break the trust between you and Wands, but she did tell you to make yourself at home. Then again, why would she have a hidden button…is there something she doesn’t want you to see?

“Press it,” Jarvis’ accented voice spoke above you.

“W-what?” 

“You should press it, Ms. L/N.” Huh. Your fingers tentatively reached for the black button. Click. The entire fireplace mantle and TV shifted, making screeching and mulling noises, until it disappeared into an open space in the side of the house. What was left behind the missing wall piece was a dark hallway, with one left corner turn.

Meanwhile, Wanda was busy at the Avengers compound, working on controlling her emotions with Bruce. He was more gentle with her than any scientist she’d ever met, she began to trust him.

“What’re you feeling now, when I show you these images?”

Her voice came out shaky, angry. “Take them away Bruce.” His eyes trailed down to Wanda’s glowing finger tips. “Control them Wanda, you can do this.” She took a deep breath and tried again, “I think we’re done for today.” After grabbing her bag and packing her files, she was on her way home to you, finally.

You gingerly walked through the hall, phone flashlight in hand as you turned the short corner. You felt a little silly expecting a big surprise or some crazy object, but all there was was a single locked door at the end of the turn, no handle.  It was steel white, glossy and smooth, with nothing to pry it open. It looked like someone painted it on or magically built it into the wall. Your stomach felt nervous all of a sudden and your heartbeat a little faster against your chest. “Jarvis, is there a key for this?” 

“It’s DNA activated Miss.” You were a mix of sad that you wouldn’t be able to open it, and relieved that you didn’t have to either. Before turning away you gave the door one last one over, tracing its cold white steel. And just like that, click, the door slid open. Holy. Shit.

“Fuck, that’s a lot of traffic,” Wanda tried calling you multiple times, but you didn’t answer. Maybe your phone was off. Either way it made her nervous, sickly nervous, for you to be alone exploring the house for too long. She couldn’t wait to put her bag down and fall asleep listening to your heartbeat again. But for now, she was stuck in a line of traffic longer than the line at the DMV.

It took a minute for your eyes to even process what they were seeing. You were staring at a ginormous, white warehouse looking room with lab tables and high tech screens. The ceiling had no less than 10 rows with slim, sleek cases, each holding what looked like a person. They all looked like life size dolls and as you stepped forward, legs heavier than titanium, you came to the haunting realization that they were all…you. Your eyes, your hair, your lips, even down to your birthmarks on every. single. body. They were displayed like mannequins. You were displayed like a mannequin.

Your chest burned, you were, you were, well you didn’t even know what you were to be honest. Your eyes were blurry and your face was hot, before you knew it you were on the floor. You could feel the coldness of the tile, the glow of the blue light above you. 

“Now you know, the truth. I’ve always tried to get you to come down here, but I never got the chance until now.” 

A car door slammed from outside. The sound of heels click clacking on the ground got closer.

“Jarvis,” your voice sounded like someone else’s, you couldn’t even feel the movements of your mouth, “what do you mean always?”

“Y/N? Baby I’m home!” she was still downstairs, her voice echoed off the high ceilings. What would happen when she found you? When she knew what Jarvis did? Her voice got closer, and closer, and closer.

“Thank you, Y/N.” 

“What?” What’s he thanking you for?

“You treated me like a friend, not just a robot. I thought I should return the-”

His voice cut out and the soft blue light in the ceiling stopped. Your girlfriend stood right behind you, a power box in her hand. Bye bye Jarvis. Wanda couldn’t stop thinking about the look on your face, the way she had never seen such a look on another human ever before.

“Hey, hey listen to me,” immediately she went to the floor and tried to hold your hands, console you. You practically flew back at her touch, instantly feeling rage and fear inside you at once. Those weren’t a good combination. 

“What is this, what is all of this! I need to know now Wanda, before I do something I’ll regret,” you held one of her work screwdrivers out toward her. Both of you knew you didn’t have the strength to hurt anyone right now, and that made you weak.

“Just listen, just listen,” she took a tentative step toward you, like caging in a wild animal. “This is crazy, I know”

“Yeah no fucking shit!  Who are these people, why-why do they all look like me. Explain.” Your mind started spinning out of control.

“Because they are you.”

“LIAR” You pushed her up against the wall, screwdriver against her neck. Air was hard to breathe, you were panting like a labored dog. And then you saw it. The pain in Wanda’s eyes, in her heart.

“I’m not lying. Th-these are all clones of you. Tony helped me design them if I swore to only use one, to help the kids mourn you but, I- I couldn’t stop.” Kids, you had kids? She was sobbing, shaking silently. So were you. 

“I just kept losing you, and whenever I traveled to another time, you were gone again. I lost you in every universe. I had to find a way to make you stay.”

It’s like your identity fell through the floor, your world burned up into flames, you weren’t even you anymore. You were some fucking lab experiment. The screwdriver fell to the floor with you, and in an instant your face was in Wandas warm, soft hands. The hands of a liar. The hands of the woman you thought loved. Your worst nightmare and your daydream.

If your body had a mind of its own, it was trying to get you killed. Without thinking your hand met her cheek, slapping harder than you’d ever hit anyone, or anything, before. Shit.

“You ungrateful bitch. Do you know what I’ve done for you?” She pushed you onto your back, your head hit the marble floor with a smack. “How I had to make you fall in love with me over and over. How I had to watch you die in every universe?,” you couldn’t tell who’s tears were who’s on your cheek, hers and yours mixed together.

“Baby,” she lied her soft brown hair on your chest. You didn’t move.

“What number am I, Wanda? How many more….of me died.”

“I did this all because I-”

”Please don’t say you love me.”

“11. You’re version 11.”

There had been 11 more before you, 11 more that had had the same life, same face, same family, same personality. If you cut yourself would you even bleed? But what you didn’t know was that Wanda had been responsible for 6 of your deaths. She never forgave herself. 

Tenderly, her hands held the back of your hand as she pressed her lips to yours. You closed your eyes for a second.

The last thing you heard was Wandas voice breaking,

“Version 11, shut down.”

[love-kurdt]

Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 20

word count: 1066

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

April 22, 1989

Dear Will,

Prom is tonight. And I’m not going. It’s fine. I’m fine. I made up my mind a whole month ago and have been able to withstand the borderline harassment of our friends telling me that I’m gonna regret this decision for the rest of my life and would be better off just going without a date because it doesn’t matter if I have a date or not and it’s the experience that counts and Lucas said you’re going to be there so I should go too and fuck I regret this so much.

What time is it…? Why I’m writing down the question instead of just checking my fucking watch, I don’t know. It’s 5:30pm, prom starts at 6, and you probably haven’t left your house yet. And why I’m writing about my suit being presentable enough instead of just going to my closet to check is so fucking counterproductive and

—

It was like a movie, the way I bolted out of the house in my dress slacks and suit jacket with half-tied converse, the laces billowing behind me in the wind as I biked through the neighborhood as fast as I could to your house. I should’ve just taken my car, but of course I had to bring all of my own rom-com fantasies to life. You know, like the Big Chase scene where the guy runs through the airport, praying that it isn’t too late to confess his love to the girl that nearly got away. But alas, I am no athlete, so this unfortunately came with the consequence of looking like a sweaty rat by the time I reached your driveway. Thankfully, you and El were still there, taking photos with Jonathan on the front steps. I haphazardly thrust my bike onto the curb and sprinted up to you as fast as my legs could carry me.

“Will!” I shouted, suddenly conscious of how I hadn’t prepared anything to say to you. My actions always have spoken louder than my words, which is concerning, considering the fact that I’m planning to become a writer once we’re out of high school. So I ran across your front lawn, and I stopped in my tracks when I noticed the surprised looks on Jonathan and El’s faces, the worried look on your own, and the confused expressions on Joyce and Hop’s.

“Hey, Mike,” Jonathan’s eyebrows furrowed together as I gasped for air.

“Hey, Jon,” I replied, leaning forward until my palms rested on my knees as I panted. I acknowledged everyone else, and then looked back up at you, standing back up and running my hand through my hair. The sweat clung to my hand, which I wiped on my slacks with a grimace. “Hey,” I said, “Yeah, so, uh– Will. Dude. Buddy. Do you want to go to the prom with me?”

There was a beat of silence that followed, and I felt the urge to cut my own tongue out. Before I could actually act on my impulse, you walked down the stairs and took a few more steps in my direction. “I thought you weren’t going,” you said, crossing your arms against your chest. I shook my head, shoving my hands in my pockets.

“I changed my mind. Lucas told me–” I began, but trailed off before I gave myself away. You could never know about how Lucas convinced me to go to prom on the sole basis of your attendance. That would’ve been so humiliating.

“He told you what?” you prompted me to continue, taking another step forward so we were less than a foot apart.

“Just that everyone else was going, and that I was a weirdo for not wanting to go as well.”

“He’s not wrong,” you smirked up at me, and I lightly smacked your shoulder, feigning offense. “But, like,” you went on, “now that you’re actually coming to prom with us, doesn’t that mean you’re going with me already?”

Against my better judgment, I reached out and adjusted your shirt collar against the lapels of your suit. You looked up at me in mild shock, but hey, at least I didn’t kiss you. “I mean, I was asking if you wanted to go to prom with me as my date.”

Your face turned a beautiful shade of pink, and you stammered out, “I–I’m not sure if we’d be allowed to do that.”

“Come on,” I pleaded, “We’d be going as friends, they can’t kick us out for that.”

Another moment of silence bloomed between us like the yellow flower in your jacket pocket. You picked at your nails in contemplation. “Fine,” you relented with a smirk, “I guess I could go as your prom date… buddy.”

“I just know you’re never gonna let me live that down,” I whined, and you just laughed.

“Damn straight,” you agreed, and I refrained from making a gay joke on account of, oh I don’t know, outing myself. You put my bike in your garage while I was caught up on the plan for transportation, which was Lucas’ parents’ minivan, which would be there in a few minutes to pick us up. Needless to say, everyone was shocked when I climbed into the van.

Prom was pretty lame, and we all ended up leaving early and going back to your house, but I honestly don’t give a single flying fuck, because we actually got to dance together. I repeat: we actually got to dance together. The music had slowed down, everyone was finding their respective dates, and I was just about to leave the dance floor for my impending Closet Pity Party™ when you grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer to you and placing your hands on my hips. “What’s the point of prom if you don’t have at least one slow dance?” you asked, and I tried my best to appear as nonchalant as possible by shrugging. Meanwhile, I was, like, one second away from dying of happiness. It was dark enough that I got away with putting my hands on your shoulders, and you became a bit more confident with the way your hands gripped my waist as we swayed back and forth to the music. I’m grinning so hard while writing this. I think this has been the best night of my life by far. I hope this feeling lasts forever.

Love,

Mike

-

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[444m777]

15 years ago today…

I was roughly three months fresh of turning 17 years old. I felt indifferent about that number and sort of wished I could stay 16 a little longer but I knew I was getting closer to being considered an “adult” and in that case it was exciting because I would be moving abroad and living on my own once I graduated from high school. There was nothing really special about that day. I was home alone after school. Took off my shoes and just did what any regular-degular teenager would do, watch TV.

Aside from plotting how I’d ever make it to London without ever traveling that far before I figured one could dream like I always did. Like I had to because I had the kind of parents who did not like the fact that I was (still am) a Michael Jackson fan. They saw it as an obsession and basically it got to a point where I was “banned” from mentioning his name, listening to his music even though I didn’t own any CDs at the time. The only thing I had growing up as a little girl was the Moonwalker VHS tape and I almost destroyed it because I watched it a billion times for years. My parents would always make sure we had a movie night and as soon as they asked for suggestions everyone would butt in before I could get a word out, “WE ARE NOT WATCHING MOONWALKER! Anything but that!”. As a little girl that shit tore me apart.

My parents introduced me to the world of magic that is MJ. They showed me Thriller. And I innocently referred to the female ghoulish monsters as my grandmother (oops…🤪) everyone burst out in laughter. It was cute I was maybe 3-4 years old at the time. But when I turned 5 I was allowed to watch the whole Moonwalker movie and my own mother told me she regrets getting it and showing it to me. I was maybe 9-10 years old when she said that to me out of anger. She read my diaries at the time and saw all the newspaper clippings I had of Michael because they just wouldn’t let me buy any merch/CDs. And in it I wrote how I felt about him and how I wanted to be with him at Neverland Ranch. Mind you this was also the time where it was super uncool to be an MJ fan. Like, you’d get DISOWNED from your friend group, family etc. it was THAT bad. Coming from a Black Caribbean background. I virtually had no one to talk to about Michael. Hence, the diaries.

I, in some way, related to how lonely he felt. In my innocent child’s mind I just felt really close to him and I felt he would understand me better than my own immediate family would. Anyways, I CLINGED to my Moonwalker VHS tape until I somehow broke it from watching it a trillion times too much😅. My world SHATTERED. It was the only MJ thing I had before I got the newspaper clippings because of the allegations. Whenever we went to a music store or an airport that had a music store I wasn’t allowed in the section that had Michael’s music. I’d get dragged away. It was ROUGH for little fangirl me😕 I don’t know how I survived it. And I’m not even trying to sound dramatic but I was a sensitive, PAINFULLY shy, introverted and moved to tears EASILY kinda girl. I had (and still have) very BIG feelings and I had no one to help me navigate them. Maybe I’ll make another post about my journey as an MJ fan on a super tiny island and how I “made it work” but really I want to focus on how as a teenager I found out he passed.

Flipping through channels I came across a news channel that claimed he died. I immediately took it as a hoax and switched to another news channel and they didn’t report anything. So I remember pausing the TV (we had DVR at the time) and went upstairs to shower. I kept telling myself this was all a sick joke. I came back downstairs and pressed play and forwarded to real time and they said he really did die. So I did the one thing I thought was smart and decided that if CNN didn’t report he died then he didn’t and everybody from the smaller news channels were in on some terrible lie to generate views because of his concerts coming up in London. But I finally switched to CNN and it was written so boldly on the screen I wasn’t even sitting but something told me to sit because my body felt weak and I plopped down on the couch. It took a while to register and then I was hysterical. Home alone yet living with people who banned me from talking about him and getting caught listening to his music or writing about him. I had a secret stash of MJ related things. I had a friend who took her mother’s Dangerous cassette tape and borrowed it to me to listen. My sister’s best friend’s dad had the History Album and she gave it to my sister to give it to me. That’s honestly the one thing my sister did for me that felt super profound. Because she was also told not to fuel my “obsession”. She didn’t care for MJ but she wasn’t mean about it either. But we both lived under our parents’ house and rules and as a Black girl with Black Caribbean parents… let’s just say you don’t question or go behind their back if you know what’s good for you. Once just ONCE my dad let me buy the Dangerous dvd. We were at the airport and he was hesitant. I remember it like it was yesterday… “you KNOW your mother doesn’t want you getting anything MJ related! I’m not letting you buy this”. But at the last minute he still let me get it and he said “it’s just the music videos I suppose this is fine…” oh, how it was not. That got taken away too. So you see I had to hide whatever anyone could spare. I was not even allowed to read the newspaper at one point because my mother found I would cut out pictures of him. THE NEWSPAPER Y’ALL!!! If I needed the newspaper for school work I’d get it with pages removed. Or my mom would pull out the pages I needed.

Back to being a total mess on the couch… my parents came home and I wiped my face and tears. I remember opening the door. I figured I’m older now. He passed away. It should be okay to at least say something about it. I remember opening the door and I could barely get the words out. I said “did you hear the news about Michael?” And she responded “yeah… jammer”. I come from a Caribbean island that’s been colonized by the Dutch so we use Dutch words in our creole language, Papiamento. But the way she said jammer (what a shame) was in such a nonchalant I-don’t-really-care way. Her tone was evident. I almost slammed the door shut in her face but I let her hold the door and I ran upstairs and was hysterical again.

I remember my father coming up to check on me but he stood in the door way. I was just curled up in bed crying and he left me there. Both of them left me there. I was a mess for DAYS. WEEKS. I became depressed. And again, I had no one to help me navigate these very BIG feelings. And it pained me. I didn’t have friends who were MJ fans. So I couldn’t talk to them. All I heard at school was “good riddance” or worse. As an adult I realized I just wanted someone to sit with me. Hold space for me. No one helped me through it during 2003 to the 2005 trials. No one helped me through it in 2009. I had to do it on my own and it SUCKED! You’re either met with “but you never met the man!” or “he was XYZ anyways so why does it matter, he’s dead!”. I was a CHILD! No one thought “damn… this is having a huge effect on our highly sensitive daughter and she’s clearly depressed. At the very least let’s hold space for her” NOPE! I learned very young to keep secrets. To never share myself like that with people in fear of being ridiculed. I hid myself, my passions and my thoughts. Despite growing up and excelling in anything that had to do with art (because I wanted to be like Mike lol). I kept it a secret. My grades showed it but anything else I kept it from my family. My friends kinda knew but they didn’t know what or WHO the driving force was. Where the inspiration came from. I always had to come up with some other story or muse. I wouldn’t dare mention Michael in fear my mother would appear out of nowhere and would “discipline me” for saying his name. He was my real life Voldemort and in my tiny kid brain I had to defend him in my mind because there was no way I could go up against anyone else let alone adults. My family but mostly my mother really did a number on me…

I’m writing this to say that what my family did and how the world negatively responded left a stain on my soul. Turned me from introvert and shy to soooo painfully shy I didn’t want to leave my room. Didn’t want to express myself in fear of being asked where the inspiration came from. Ironically as an adult my parents have been asking me why I’m not being creative and for a very long time I wish I could tell them it’s because they snuffed that part me, ever since I was a child, out! They couldn’t nurture that side of me and chose to see my devotion as blind obsession.

But this year and even more so today I had a huge breakdown earlier in the year and I realized I wanted to express myself and my thoughts more and speak freely about Mike. Mind you, I moved out at 18 and lived and studied in The Netherlands, Indonesia and Thailand. Still I kept that part of me which was and is a HUGE part of me, a secret. I brought it up once with a guy I had a date with and like I said, BIG feelings kinda gal, I broke down crying talking to him about Michael. And I apologized profusely and figured he’d never want to see me again. And yet he held me and comforted me. He did the one thing I craved the people who loved me should have done when I was a child. I swore on that day I’d marry that man. I did not… yet. We’re still together 7 years later and today too and every day since he has held space for me. Allowed me to be the fan I always wished I could’ve been even if it was in private with him. He lets me talk about anything MJ like he’s a fan himself (he is not but he has an immense amount of respect for Michael). And he’s always encouraged me to reach out to the MJ community but like I said the trauma, and again, not trying to be dramatic but to be told as a kid up until I left the house that I can’t talk, listen, watch nor dance to Michael was like being told I wasn’t allowed to eat, was DEEP and it made me associate expressing myself as a bad thing, a dirty thing. Because liking Michael was seen as gross. So I never engaged online for fear of my mother somehow finding me on the internet. Yeah… it was that bad😖

But it wasn’t all bad. And I’d like to share more about that in the future😌. I’m done feeling like my mother or anyone else for that matter has a say in how I feel and how I choose to express my love for Michael. That man pulled me through so many things throughout my life. I know this is a very heavy and sad day. It’s really tough for some to see the bright side. Because Michael being alive was the bright side. Even if he chose never to show his face again in public but to just know he was alive, safe and in good health probably would’ve been more than enough for fans to handle than knowing he’s truly gone. Unfortunately, that’s not the case and his life ended tragically.

I still choose to use this day as a reminder to myself of his tireless yet bright FIRE that he had and how he went against the grains of racism and ignorance, and striving to innovate, to push the envelope and go beyond. The sky was never the limit. I, too, want to use that energy and look past my upbringing and connect with other likeminded fans/people and truly engage the way I wish I would’ve years ago after leaving home. No more hiding. No more shaming myself and most certainly no more apologizing for speaking about Michael. I’m doing myself a disservice and I want to honor his memory by keeping on with the force! 🕺🏾

I love you so much Michael and I miss you like crazy and I’m so grateful for your presence and your passion for sharing your gift and life’s work with us. I feel you in the air and especially in the trees and in the animals. You solidified my belief in magic and wonder. I am so damn happy I am breaking free from these chains and really celebrating you OUT IN THE OPEN WHOLEHEARTEDLY. To the fans out there struggling I have you in my thoughts. And if you ever, EVER need someone to talk to because it’s difficult to talk to anyone else out there, you got me. I don’t ever want any of the fans to feel isolated and stuck. Especially the younger fans. You are the generation who will continue to keep Michael’s legacy going. Not only that you are the future in general and young kids/people need to be protected, loved and guided. Not the opposite and especially not made to feel like your feelings are invalid. Your mental health is so important even when you’re a fan of someone whom you’ve never met. And it is equally important to talk freely and openly in a safe space without being made to feel like you’re a criminal.

Anyways… if you read up until here, wow, thanks! Sending you all lots of love, hugs and heehees💫

[a-sin-to-be-rin]

Cliffs: Slippery When Wet

While searching for Libertalia, Shoreline runs the Drake brothers aground.

An alternative beginning to A Thief's End: Chapter 13: Marooned

---

“On your right!”

The first thing Nate thinks is, Yeah, right. Because he isn't sure how Sam can see anything in this storm. They're moving so quickly, and rocks are appearing so suddenly, and ocean mist blends so thickly with savage rainfall that Nate can't see a damn thing.

“Watch out, watch out!” Sam is screaming over the waves. Whatever he thinks he sees, he really believes it's there.

Nate glances to the side, and that's when a flaming, 500 foot naval frigate smashes into their fishing boat.

“Oh, shit!”

The fishing boat splinters underneath them and tosses them to the waves, the frigate barreling through like a linebacker through wet tissue paper. 

“NATHAN!”

Nate slams against the water’s surface. The frigate's wake drags him down, and he frantically swims against it. But it's really no use. Nathan Drake may be a veteran explorer and a daring adventurer, but even he is subject to the forces of nature. (Or, in this instance, the forces of a giant, bloodthirsty Shoreline boat.)

The surface grows further and further away, and Nate allows himself to be sucked down, with the hopes that maybe, eventually, the boat will pass and the waters will calm.

---

The boat passes. The waters do not calm.

Nathan gasps for breath, coughing as seawater threatens to invade his lungs. He treads water a bit frantically and only semi-effectively.

“Sam?” he calls, but it comes out as a croak. There's no way Sam could hear him in a storm like this. The ocean is roaring, and the rain is torrential. Nate can barely hear himself.

Once he's no longer at risk of dry-drowning, Nathan searches the area. He can’t see much, really, but he’s willing to bet there are more Shoreline boats out there. He could try searching for one, hoping to climb aboard. But at the very least, he would be tossed back into the water. At most, they'd probably just shoot him. So stowing away isn’t an option.

All things considered, Nate is lucky. They’d crashed close to the island. Or… he thinks they crashed close to the island. It's tough to tell in the storm. All he can really do is start swimming and hope to run into something eventually.

The longer Nate paddles, the more he realizes how bone-deep exhausted he is. His muscles strain as he pushes through the water. Every so often, he catches himself slowing down, and he has to kick even harder to keep from sinking. Waves come and go, frequently breaking over his head and sending him spinning underwater. Each time, Nate manages his way back to the surface, but each time, he feels how much harder it is to swim. How much more his lungs burn.

In movies, when the stranded traveler finally sees land, they speed up, so eager and reinvigorated and desperate for reprieve that they get their second wind. But when Nathan finally gets close enough to see the shore, he can barely tread water anymore, much less swim. He’s so, so close, but his arms and legs simply won’t listen.

Look, guys, Nate tries to reason with his limbs. If I don't get out of the water now, I’m going to drown.

We’re cold, his arms argue back.

We’re tired, his legs agree.

You're useless, Nate thinks bitterly. Fine. I’ll do it myself.

But without arms and legs, Nathan is little more than a limbless torso with a head. And for a limbless torso with a head, he does pretty well for himself. But the expectations aren't particularly high for limbless torsos with a head. So in actuality, he doesn't bring himself to shore. He barely stays afloat.

No, the real savior here is the tide. Mother Nature, in all her years of terrorizing Nate, finally cuts him a break. And through the tide alone, Nate washes up on the beach. He lifts his head out of the waterlogged sand and pushes himself up with jelly legs and marmalade arms. The rain continues its barrage, blowing sideways and stinging Nate’s face. But he’s already so soaked that it makes no difference.

“Alright,” Nathan mutters to himself, trying to muster the strength to trudge forward. “I gotta get off this beach.”

The sky is so dark that Nate can’t tell if it’s day or night. And unfortunately, the island is no more visible on land as it was from the water. He’s running blindly into the storm, deafened by rolling thunder and numbed by harsh wind against wet skin. It really should be no surprise that Nate slips almost immediately, falling off a rocky ledge, smacking his shoulder on the way down, and landing on his face.

For a long, dangerous second, Nathan considers staying put. Surely this can wait. His every muscle stings, spasming with fatigue. His shoulder pounds to the beat of his heart. He desperately needs a rest.

But then Nate starts thinking, and he realizes what he forgot.

“Goddamn it,” he growls, pushing himself up and breaking into an uneven jog. “SAM!”

There’s a very good chance that Sam didn’t even make it to shore. Maybe he found a boat. Maybe he was captured. Maybe he’s still in the water.

Maybe he’s dead.

Nate doesn’t hold onto that thought for long. He can’t. It would only make it that much harder to find Sam. (Because Sam is alive, dammit. He’s too stubborn to drown, and bullets obviously don’t have the same effect on him as they do everyone else.)

Wiping the rain from his eyes, Nathan finds a craggy outcrop in his way. The conditions are terrible for climbing, but the conditions are also terrible for running and swimming and trying to outgun a fleet of Shoreline ships, so what does Nathan care? He finds handholds and footholds and starts his ascent.

The climbing isn’t as bad as Nate expected. It’s slippery as hell, but the rocks are relatively short. It takes very little time to make it over the precipice. The view is dismal - just white waves and foreboding rocks sticking out of the water like giant daggers - but it gives him a glimpse of something else. Light, glinting off something to his left. So Nate carefully jumps down to the saturated shoreline. It jars his every joint and bone, but he can’t worry about it. He approaches the light, now clearly his supply box.

Or it was his supply box. Because there’s not a single supply inside. It’s just a useless box.

“For god’s s-” Nathan groans. “Of course. Everything’s gone.”

So Nate just moves right ahead. He really can’t stop right now.

“Maybe that’s a good sign,” he muses. “Maybe Sam took it.”

Maybe he’s looking for excuses to believe Sam is okay. Or maybe it’s true and Sam did take it. Who’s to say?

Nathan runs under a felled tree and climbs further up the cliff. “On the bright side, I can’t lose anything else… except my life.” And then something strikes him. “Talking to myself… That’s the first sign of crazy, isn’t it?”

And the second sign of crazy is asking yourself questions that you already know the answer to.

He pulls himself up yet another ledge, but his muscles are shaking worse than ever. The strength it takes to just walk, much less climb, is starting to get to him. His movements slow, limp worsening.

“Alright,” he tells himself. “I’m alright.”

And then Nathan steps off a cliff.

“Ugh!” he grunts, standing immediately. If he lays down now, he’ll never get back up. “Just push through,” he pants, moving forward. “Just push- augh!”

The ground beneath his feet crumbles, large chunks of rock splashing in the ocean below. Nate scrabbles for a solid surface, just barely grabbing hold in time. Once more, he pulls himself up and keeps moving.

“To hell with this place,” Nathan groans, carefully shuffling past the new gap in the ledge and climbing the next cliff face in his path. It’s getting worse. His head is spinning, and just reaching for handholds has him grunting like he’s playing in the finals at the Wimbledon. (Yeah, he watches tennis. What of it?)

But he reaches the top eventually, groaning and whining the whole way.

“Gotta keep going. Gotta keep going.”

The next climb is situated under a waterfall. Nate doesn’t consider this, because every climb has been wet. What’s a little running water going to do?

Kill you, Nate. It will probably kill you.

So he grabs hold, inching his way along a narrow ledge. He’s doing okay, considering, until the grip under his fingers is loosened by soggy moss. He slips, screams, and catches a lower ledge.

“Hah,” he wheezes. “That was… That was close.”

Slowly, painfully, he reaches up for a safer handhold. The muscles in his back are screaming. His injured shoulder shrieks.

And he slips again.

“No, no, no-!”

But Nathan has Drake luck. He grabs a piece of rock jutting out from the cliff face, slicing his hands in the process, but preventing certain doom. The waterfall is still dumping buckets on him, weakening his grip. He pulls himself upwards, barely managing to reach the next handhold. But he does reach it, and progress is progress.

And then the rock crumbles, his fingers slip, and he finds himself falling. There’s no catching himself this time. No close calls. He’s going to die.

Nate slams into solid rock, curls in on himself, and falls limp. Moving forward is no longer a question or a choice. It’s an impossibility. And though Nate loves himself a good challenge, he’s not going to beat this one.

---

Sam doesn’t like rain. That’s not particularly unique about him, but it is worth noting. So on a remote island, washed up and pummeled with a monsoon?

Not his scene.

“Nathan!” He keeps screaming, even though Nathan has yet to yell back. He’s worse than a lost dog, because at least lost dogs come when their name is called. Nathan just wanders.

And yet, Sam keeps shouting.

It’s been hours now. The dark clouds have thinned out, revealing light gray underneath. The sun is flirting with the horizon, but Sam imagines it might be another hour or so before they’re making out. The rain has tapered off, at least for the time being, reduced to a gentle mist. The ground is sodden, Sam’s boots sinking with every step, and plants drip with the remnants of the storm.

“Nathan!”

Sam must have walked halfway across the island by now. He’s taking the long way - running the perimeter of the island - in the hopes that Nathan is still on the beach. But at this rate, the likelihood of Nathan staying on the shore is getting slimmer and slimmer. More than once, Sam wonders if he should just give up and move inland. He could find a high cliff and signal for Nathan. That could definitely work. And it’s tempting, because once Sam reached the top, he could sit down and wait for Nathan to come to him.

But if Nathan was injured in the crash, he may not have left the beach at all. And the risk that Nathan is hurt and in need of assistance is greater than the relief that Sam would feel knowing that he doesn’t have to keep walking.

“Nathan!”

Sam is tired. He’s so, so tired, from his skin to his spleen to his skull. The crash roughed him up a bit, and dragging his ass to shore was no picnic either. And now, going on hour six (seven?) of searching, Sam is worn to the bone.

But that doesn’t stop him. When he spots the cove - when he spots his brother, collapsed on the ground - Sam breaks into a sprint.

“Nathan!” He slides to his knees, shaking Nathan’s shoulders. “Wake up!”

Nathan’s eyes snap open, looking at Sam like Sam just stole his Gameboy. (And Sam would know. He stole Nathan’s Gameboy back in ‘81. Legend has it, Nathan is still looking for it.) “Sam?”

“Yeah, dumbass. Don’t recognize your own brother?”

“Shut up,” Nathan groans, pushing himself up. He blinks a couple times, rolling his shoulders and wincing. “Where are we?”

Sam tries to bury his worry with wit and sarcasm. “Uh, did you smash your brain in?” And Sam tries to subtly check Nathan’s head for any sign of that. “Remember? The crash? Shoreline? Libertalia?”

This seems to strike a chord. “Ah. Yeah. Right. That place.” He sighs but makes no move to stand up. “I was looking for you, and then I… fell.”

“Fell?” Sam looks up, but the cove is mostly covered. “Fell from where?”

Nathan points up at a hole in the natural ceiling. “Cliff. Up through there.”

“Jesus, Nathan.” Sam curses. “You're lucky you're not dead.”

“Oh, yeah, lucky me,” Nathan groans. “Death would’ve been the kinder mercy.”

“Any chance you found Libertalia before you swan dived off a cliff?”

Nathan’s unamused expression tells Sam everything he needs to know.

“Okay, fine. No Libertalia. Yet. Are you…? Can you walk?”

“I think so?” It’s a question, not a statement.

“Well, let’s try, huh?” Sam tries to keep upbeat, because Nathan kind of looks like shit. The odds of him being out of commission are decent.

“Yeah, okay.”

Sam takes hold of Nathan’s left arm, but even touching it makes Nathan yelp. He drops the arm like it’s broken glass that is also on fire and covered in acid.

“What? Is it broken?”

Nathan grabs his shoulder, cringing in pain. “Uh, I don’t… I don’t think so.”

“Well then what? Broken ribs? Did you get stabbed or something?”

Nathan shakes his head, carefully pulling his shirt collar down past his shoulder. The drenched henley is happy to accommodate. “Oh. Um. Yikes.”

And “oh, um, yikes” is right. Because Nathan’s left shoulder is lower than the right, an unnatural bump under his skin.

“You idiot. You dislocated it.”

“Damn, sorry. I’ll get your permission next time,” Nathan spits.

Sam doesn't have the energy to argue. He just sighs and yanks Nathan’s shoulder back into place.

“Shit!” Nathan screams. He grabs his shoulder protectively and mutters more curses under his breath. “Warn a guy,” he hisses.

“I needed you relaxed. You always tense up when you dislocate something.”

“Dude, that was one time.”

“And you tensed up, and I couldn't get your arm back in, so who's fault is that?”

Nathan sighs. Mutters a few choice swear words. 

“Gonna live?” Sam watches his brother carefully. He’s still pale.

But Nathan nods. “It’ll hurt like hell for a while, but I’ll make it. Help me up.”

So Sam grabs Nathan’s right arm and pulls him up. Nathan brushes the sand from his clothes and uses his belt to sling his arm. “C’mon,” Nathan says, heading inland. “Time to find a lost pirate civilization.”

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

This might seem like a weirdly personal question, but do you have any advice on managing strong romantic feelings for a fictional character and/or the actor who plays them? I only ask because after seeing MoM, I developed some feelings for Wanda, and by extension Elizabeth Olsen herself, that feel about as close to love as you can get without directly knowing the person. I know how this would come across to a lot of people so I will say upfront that I’ve never considered stalking or harassing her in any way, and that whatever interaction I might have with her would be on her terms in a setting she’s comfortable with. That being said, I also hold myself to a high standard in how I feel about her and have a lot of guilt or anxiety about other emotions, some of them trivial like feeling bad that I didn’t watch Wandavision when it first came out, and some more intense like even though I want to work in movies and maybe with Elizabeth herself, I’m not smart enough to be a writer and director and create something worthy of her talents. And in certain times, there’s also angst over not ever having a chance to be with her or even Wanda romantically followed by guilt over being that selfish in wanting her for myself. Sorry if this is going on too long but essentially, are there strategies you or someone you know are familiar with for keeping an affection for someone like this in your life in a healthy way, because I do appreciate the good aspects of Elizabeth’s talent and Wanda’s story but not letting the negative feelings on my part get in the way. Sorry if this is gets too personal but thank you for your time.

No apology needed at all, dear! It's alright. Thank you for reaching out.

I'm afraid I know very little about these things, to be honest. The way I see it, all emotions are exactly the same. If we're okay with people laughing or crying over a story, why would other emotions be a problem? It's a fantasy after all. Real or not doesn't really change anything, humans have developed so many different forms of communication precisely because we love telling stories to each other -- none of them are real, but that doesn't make them any less valuable.

I believe the question you need to ask yourself is if this is affecting your life in any way, as in your real-life relationships, your mental well-being, your work, your responsibilities, etc. But if it isn't, there's nothing wrong with fantasizing or feeling. Wanda is a fictional character after all so whatever you do or say is not going to hurt her, and regarding Elizabeth you seem to have it figured out just fine as well. So, is it hurting you?

As for the other less pleasant feelings such as anxiety, guilt, etc, I can only assume that if you have romantic feelings for her and Wanda, you will experience everything that comes with that. Love isn't always nice, is it? Be it with a real person or not, sometimes it's messy and painful.

Personally, I wouldn't try to fight against those feelings or bottle them up, that would only make things worse. Just allow yourself to feel them, maybe do something creative with them like write fanfic or draw or talk to other fans about it, etc. Or just fantasize about it in your own way, whatever makes you 'feel' is good enough -- both pleasant and non-pleasant are okay, maybe you can try to change the perspective and see those emotions as a gateway to understanding yourself better. I know the non-pleasant ones suck big time, but they can be helpful.

A quick google search says this is "fictosexuality". There must be some forums online with people who discuss this kind of thing, they'll probably give you better advice than me since I don't really know much about this. I'm sorry I can't be of better help here but know that you're not alone.

[crazy56u]

Okay, shopping cart accident to one side, I’m home now. Let’s go.

Tonight, on a very special “Quantum Leap”, we remind you that 2012 was about 11 years ago.

Oh fucking God, Party Rock Anthem…

Okay, it looked like Ben punched her to the floor.

“You love basketball.” Interesting time to pint that out.

“Ben, call it a hunch, but I think you have to save basketball.”

“Amanda, if you don’t rest your ankle, I’m banning you from basketball.”

You didn’t have to cue Party Rock Anthem back up, guys…

Gia should’ve done a Space Jam, but she got the job done regardless.

Now Ben, as you can tell, you are not leaping yet, so welcome to the long haul.

Ah, we’re getting right into the transphobia, delightful.

“And she’s your daughter.” She just called Ben “Dad”, no fucking shit.

I too sadly stare at high school trophies when confronted with dickhead teenagers yelling at my daughter.

In-fighting amongst the team, and Ben being scolded by the principal for having his trans daughter play basketball, we are starting off on a cheery fucking note…

“Look, my daughter can fucking grow a new ankle all I fucking care, you are the asshole here, not me!”

Calling it: In 8 years time, Amanda’s mom becomes a full blown Karen. I can technically say that since “Karen” didn’t enter the public consciousness until 2020, she doesn’t count yet in 2012.

Well, I commend Gia for trying to make light of a shit situation.

Also, dollars to donuts the principal was the one to make her use the janitor’s closet as a changing room.

Why the fuck would they use a real helicopter for “Miss Saigon”? You remember what happened with “Twilight Zone: The Movie”, right?

Ben already changed history, neat.

So, Ben has to make sure Gia has to not run away, got it. How many transphobes does he need to beat up to make this happen? Can that be the episode?

Moral of the Story: Being an ally is for scrubs, being an accomplice gets shit done.

Why am I convinced this bar is in Texas?

Also, is Janis still at the Project, or was she allowed to leave after saying a name?

Dottie, you are clearly lying about not knowing Ben, why are you lying to Ernie Hudson?

Dottie is such a sick-ass poet, the government hates her. That’s awesome.

So, while Ben is fighting transphobia in 2012, Magic and Jenn are attending a poetry slam in Not Texas.

March 13th, the scariest March. So, watch as it turns out that day was actually super bad for Dottie, and I become an asshole.

“Management here is sus.” Among Us has done a lot of fucking damage to society.

[My phone wanted to autocorrect “damage” to “Sam anger”, just FYI.]

If only “Angry Birds” was still a good game in 2023…

“I can’t believe you put her in the game without giving me a head’s up first!” It was the last 30 seconds, and Amanda had a shit ankle, stop trying to make Ben the bad guy here!

“Don’t make me the enemy, I’m already doing that to you!”

Okay, I count that as confirmation of my “Amanda’s mom becomes a Karen” theory.

I think you need to block that number, ma’am.

“I-I didn’t think-” “That’s right. You didn’t think.” Ma’am, remember how you told Ben to not make you the enemy? Yeah, that’s a two-way street.

Ma’am, I am willing to bet Gia’s going to regionals, I hope you are prepared for that.

I love how Ben indirectly asked “Why couldn’t this episode just be basketball?”

“They banned trans people in the military?” Oh, I wish to fucking God they were allowed to directly shit on Trump here…

“The point is, we saw it coming, and we[…] didn’t say anything.” A tale as old as time.

I love it when my wholesome time travel show openly admits it wants to fix the bullshit of 2017, but can’t yet.

“[soft cheerful music]” is not a caption this episode deserves.

I love how the episode is blatantly making this a wholesome family moment to set the audience up for more bullshit at that car wash. I saw the trailer.

I fucking felt myself die hearing Ben say “Swag”. Certain things were left behind in the 2010s for a fucking reason.

And now there’s a debate between Twilight and Hunger Games. I am fucking old.

“Bella is totally useless without Edward or Jacob.” Show, I did not fucking sign up for debates about the lore of Twilight, stop this.

“Who needs The Hunger Games if you got high school, am I right?” Mic drop.

And now the episode enters hardcore “This is the fucking moral” mode.

Nothing like a dance party to make life better.

Okay, legitimate question: How much of this speech was written, and how much of this is ad-libbed from personal experience?

Okay, time for the fun car wash scene set to Carly Rae Jepson, clearly things will not get bad!

Oh goody, Amanda’s mom is also here, I already do not have high hopes!

[Fun fact: I dabbled in car washing as a kid one summer. That lasted only a week; when I tried washing my sister’s car, she got annoyed that I didn’t do a good job, and when she tried doing it herself, she sprayed me in the face with the hose out of anger. That’s why I don’t wash cars anymore.]

“Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here’s tonal whiplash, I guess sorry, maybe.”

Ohhhhhhh, I hope that wasn’t the principal’s car…

…so, of course it was actually Amanda’s mom’s car…

Ben is getting fed up with this mom, and I agree with him.

Boy, I already know what the principal has in mind for “protecting girl’s basketball”, and I already am mad.

Ben is legitimately knocking some skulls to protect Gia. Father of the year.

“Okay, let me tell you a story. It’s about me.”

“Dad, I bet it sucked for Ben Song…” “You don’t know the fucking half of it.”

“And every time I smell Febreze-“ Holy fucking tonal shift, Batman.

“She called it loneliness, but I called it toast.” …you were having a stroke?

Magic is having a religious experience in this poetry slam.

I love how she didn’t even say a name, and yet Amanda’s mom instantly owned up to being the complainer. No fucking subtlety.

Amanda, why are trying to be cordial at this point, your mom is currently making shit worse, and both you and Gia know this.

Okay, fuck it. She’s a full-blown Karen now. The evolution is complete.

Please, please let her slap the shit out of Amanda’s mom…

Amanda, there is only one reason why you would say it would be different. You know that, right?

I love how the principal has just decided to cowtow to Amanda’s bitch-ass mom.

I now really fucking hate the principal. Way to fucking go, you made shit worse!

And now Gia’s going to run away! Good job all around!

“This isn’t my first runaway kid, let me tell you about an earthquake in ‘89 sometime.”

Maybe basketball will help fix everything…

Look, Gia, if it makes you feel better, there’s a decent chance karma is going to bite Principal Kruger and Amanda’s mom both in the ass hard.

“Why don’t you grownups figure out how to make school safe for everyone?!” Gia? Hi. I’m from 2023. We’re still waiting for that question to be answered…

Ben has indirectly said the principal can go fuck herself.

Okay, cool, Amanda has decided to stop giving a shit about her mom.

“You’re really going to put your job on the line for this stunt?” “Go fuck yourself, ma’am, I’m fucking Ben Song.”

“What exactly do you think you’re going to achieve with this?” “Well, ma’am, I think we’re about to go to regionals.” I honest to God wish Ben flipped her off after saying that. You know for a fact he wanted to.

Okay, time for the most important game of basketball all episode.

The only cheaters I see are all the assholes holding up the shitty fucking signs trying to psyche Gia out.

That was Ben’s “Remember the Titans” speech.

I love how everyone at the Project is getting in on the action.

And Ian goes into the Imaging Chamber.

“Look, the principal wanted me to make you pull your daughter, but I ain’t her fucking lackey. Instead, I just want to tell you good luck, we’re all counting on you.”

Yeah, get fucked, society, the Union saves the day yet again!

Annnnnnd I was wondering when Katy Perry would poke her head into the door…

I love how Ben leapt there.

Meanwhile, back at the poetry slam.

“Dottie, you got Quantum Leaped.”

So, I guess Ian’s the secret leaper.

Meanwhile, Hell’s Kitchen.

“Awesome! I get to be a cook! Nothing bad can happen!”

[On an unrelated note, the promo revealed that the next episode involves the restaurant burning down that same day.]

All in all, I am now doubly upset I couldn’t watch this live. And that’s not even factoring in there’s another three week gap.

Also, my pet theory is that Principal Kroger gets sacked soon after that game.

[anonymousbutnott]

A year ago today, I had a breakdown at a party. I had a boyfriend at the time, and he couldn’t come with me. When I told my mom about him a couple months earlier, we agreed that I would ask her and my dad if we could do stuff together. But I hadn’t told my dad about him yet, so I couldn’t ask him if he could come that night. And watching everyone dancing, I felt… stupid, that I couldn’t share that with my boyfriend, because I felt too scared to tell my dad about him.

Despite telling them that I was bisexual the year before, and them pretty much accepting it, I wasn’t sure how much they would allow. Why did I think that? In this post, I’m going to talk about what I saw during my childhood and as I grew up, and see what made me this way.

When I was very little, I was a kid who would do something without thinking a lot of the time. I’m naturally very curious, but living in a small community where you can’t get anywhere without a car, I didn’t have much to see by myself. I tried to see what my (then) sisters did when I wasn’t around, but they didn’t take it too well. They constantly shut me out, or yelled at me to stop being nosy. Being the hardheaded, barely-conscious child that I was, I didn’t listen and demanded that I be included. It got to the point where, for a few years, we stopped talking to each other.

Eventually, I learned my lesson, and they opened up, so we pretty much got over it naturally. But I think I went in the opposite direction. I didn’t want to annoy them, so I avoided asking a lot about what they were doing or the things they were interested in. This spread to me becoming very quiet around the beginning of middle school. I had trouble making friends I didn’t know already, and I would only talk to people if they talked to me first.

Around this time, my older sister was a teenager, and boy, was she the complete opposite. She was very outgoing and loud, and she tried to assert her independence. Of course, a lot of the things she wanted were in conflict with my parents who wanted her to be safe, more responsible, and more obedient. I saw them get into giant fights with my parents about everything, her wanting to dye her hair, to go out with friends, to have a cell phone, a job, a boyfriend. To have a social life. My parents would push back, asking what would people say?! , or what about school?, or are you able to afford all this? She would tell them that it’s fine, everyone else is doing it, so why couldn’t she? Everyone would spriral into anger.

I would listen to this happen month after month, mortified by how they treated each other. So I internalized the message that if I wanted to avoid that, I shouldn’t do things that my parents didn’t like. I always did mostly well in school already, so just focus on that and everything would be fine. Who needed to go places every day anyways? I was scared of spending the night away with family anyway, no way I could do that alone.

Not only was I scared of asking for things, I stopped wanting things in case it would upset them. I only went out if it was related to school, like Beta conventions. (Anyone have those in your state? I got second place once and got the chance to go to nationals in the summer. Too bad it was in 2020 lol.) I made my parents happy with my academic achievements, and I was happy with them too. But outside of those, I barely paid attention to anything. I don’t remember so much stuff that I never thought of most of the stuff I described earlier. I had friends, but I barely remember what they’re like. I don’t remember what hobbies I had, any movies I saw, any music I heard throughout middle and early high school.

This eventually culminated in 2020-2021. That year, school was shut down, and for the end of 9th grade, we didn’t learn anything. In 10th grade, we had completely online classes, and I wasn’t prepared for it. It meant I had to try to teach myself everything, with little guidance from teachers’ videos and feedback comments, and I had to go at my own pace, which I never had to use in a classroom setting. This broke me. After a few weeks, I completely stopped trying, but I still had to pretend to be doing things so my parents wouldn’t catch on. I don’t remember anything significant about most of that year.

It took until March 2021 for the school to call my mom and ask us what I was doing. She confronted me about why I didn’t do any schoolwork for so long, to which I responded with “I don’t know”. I still don’t. Looking back, I have my guesses, but we’re still waiting on that. At the time, I just knew that school was becoming too hard, and I couldn’t continue being a star student, especially all by myself at home. But I couldn’t describe this, since I had a lot of trouble communicating my feelings.

I went back to school early, but I had trouble catching up on a full year of lost curriculum. All the way to graduation, I was never able to bring my grades back to the full A’s and B’s from 9th grade. I actually ended up failing most of the classes from the online semester since I didn’t do anything and gave no explanation to the teachers.

Then something really big happened that changed a lot about me. I started feeling sick in May, but my doctor said I was probably fine and couldn’t really diagnose me with anything since I couldn’t describe what I was feeling. My mom noticed that I was holding information back, and she told me that I needed to start learning how to communicate what I’m thinking, since I had to be able to talk to people to get around in the world. But I didn’t know how.

Throughout the summer, I felt more sick, and my head started getting cloudy. I don’t remember a lot of what I did that summer, again. But eventually, I ended up going through a medical emergency I’d rather not go into detail here. Thankfully, I was never close to dying, and the treatment and subsequent lifestyle change made me feel healthier than I have ever been in my entire life. And with that health came some mental clarity.

I finally saw that for so long I had been holding myself back so much that I had a dislike for trying anything new. The fact that I only wanted to eat macaroni and chicken nuggets and other such things for sixteen years of my life was what made me sick in the first place. But I also dismissed so much food I thought was gross or would make me sick that I love so much now. And of course, aside from that very literal perspective, I was holding myself back from doing things that I was scared would be dangerous or I wouldn’t like because I wanted to make everyone happy, that I was making myself unhappy. It would take a long time to unlearn these behaviors — in fact, I still have issues with them often, clearly — but now, I at least know that I have this tendency, and could try to push back against it if I feel ready to for a particular situation.

(I do want to mention that from that point forward, my family has been trying to get therapy, and because of specific circumstances with my siblings that I’m not getting into, they are getting therapy, but we’ve been having trouble getting anyone to call back for me. This is something my parents and I are working on.)

I also realized that I had been avoiding something pretty obvious for the past few years. After some reflection, I came to the conclusion that I was bisexual. This is something that I had troubles with before. My parents were religious, and around when I was 13, my sister came out to them as bisexual. My parents apparently dismissed this as another example of her following her friends too much. I, being the oblivious, barely-conscious child that I was, didn’t really even know what being gay was, or anything about sex and sexual feelings. But as I learned about queerness from my friends in middle school, and later on the internet, I became pretty much supportive.

I eventually started feeling things myself, but I noticed they were mainly towards guys. I completely shut those down and forced myself to be “into” girls. I kept my mind off it as much as I possibly could. Because of this, even when I had these feelings, it was impossible for me to think of myself as anything but a straight ally. But once I started letting myself experience things (and after learning more about the queer community itself), I subconsciously realized that I couldn’t ignore this forever. Consciously, I thought, “Oh wow, I like guys. That’s new. Must be my newly found health.”

With the support of my siblings, I came out as bi to my parents soon after, on September 2021. I do realize that that may seem very quick for coming out, especially with parents who may well have still been homophobic, but in my mind, I wanted to share my feelings, because they were more willing to listen to me and wanted me to improve. They were also starting to listen to my sister, so I was hoping they would try to reconcile with her.

We had about and hour talk, and this time, they were much more supportive with me. They said they want what will make me happy, and if it’s being bi, they were good with it. But they did ask if I knew for sure if I was bi (I didn’t lol). They said that I should try taking it slow. They noticed how much I’d started growing out of my shell, and they were proud of me, but I should still be careful, and not do something that I didn’t want to do or was worried about. There was still plenty of time to figure things out. At the end of the day, they loved me and always would. They just wanted to know I was alright.

So then, I came out to some of my friends, including my cousin, a girl I met in freshman year who was queer, and a guy who I’ve been friends with since elementary school who was queer. And then he decided to ask if we could date.

First of all, I was very shocked that he felt that way. I was very flattered, but I hadn’t though of him like that at all. I wasn’t sure if I could love him. Thankfully, I had an appointment the next day, so I was able to think thoroughly about whether I wanted to date him. First of all, he was one of my friends who I had known the longest, so even though there were some years we didn’t talk a lot, we knew each other well. We had great chemistry as friends, so it would be interesting to see how our relationship would evolve. This could be a way I could get closer to him. He could also be someone I could turn to when I was feeling down.

I still had the concern about whether I could handle a relationship on top of my schoolwork. Mom had said that I should take things slowly. Also, if I went into this, I didn’t want them to know for a while, and neither me or my friend could drive, so we couldn’t see each other outside of school. But at the same time, my parents were proud of me for doing things on my own. They also told me to not stress over school too much. Stress had also been a factor in my illness, and I could ask for help if I needed it. They also told me that as long as I was passing, I was doing well.

In the end, I decided that if I wanted to learn more about myself, doing this would be a good step in the right direction. It could also be something that I have to myself, that I didn’t need my parents’ approval for. So when I came back to school, I told my friend “Dating sounds like fun :)”. We exchanged numbers.

He was the sweetest person I’ve ever met. As friends, we liked to roast each other, making lots of jokes at each other and (mainly for him) other people. He was in particular was very sassy. But when we were dating, he was very kind and helpful. And touchy. As in, he liked physical touch. I was very new to this, so I was taking a while to get used to. Not to mention that I was still mostly closeted to everyone else, so I was paranoid about people seeing us together. Thankfully, I think he could sense this, so we came to the agreement that we would wait until I was ready to do things like hold hands in the halls.

We talked a lot through text. We were very flirty with each other, and we talked about our day. It took a while (I’m demiromantic, as I learned later on), but eventually I started having actual feelings toward him. He made me feel warm and fuzzy! That’s something I never knew was an actual thing! Around Christmas, I told him I was feeling a lot more secure in my sexuality, and I told him I was ready to be more visible with him, and tell others. We became boyfriends.

I still felt guilty that we couldn’t see each other, but he assured me he was happy to be together at school, and I did too. We liked to give each other gifts, and on Valentine’s Day, he gave me so much stuff that I didn’t know if I could carry it around school and to my house. I also told my (now) siblings about him around that time. Soon, the school got ready for the prom, and I wanted to take him.

I wanted to tell my parents if we could meet up. But for some reason, I got very nervous about telling them about him. It had been months since we had the discussion, but I don’t know if that was long enough for them to grow more supportive. I had to ask my siblings and cousin for help. I told my mom that I was taking a guy to the prom, and she said ok. But I completely froze when trying to tell Dad. At the end, Mom agreed to take me to the prom and wait for my friends to show up.

That night was the climax of our relationship. We had so much fun, taking pictures together and with friends. We even got two in the official prom collection, and I have them saved on an SD card. We danced, and at the end when we were waiting for my ride, we kissed for the first time under the crescent moon.

Summer came around soon after, which meant that we couldn’t see each other in person. My mom and I agreed that if we wanted to go to each other’s houses, she wanted me to tell her and Dad. I told my bf about this and that I was too scared about telling him. He was supportive and told me that he was there to comfort me in any way he could. Unfortunately, we slowly stopped communicating a lot. I also traveled a lot, both with my family and for extracurricular things. I still wanted to learn some things I missed out on two years earlier, and I was trying to figure out which college I wanted to go to.

One night, my family went to a quinceañera. It had been over two months since I’d seen him, and about a week since we had talked. I had wanted to bring him there, but I still hadn’t told my dad. As everyone started dancing, I started feeling horrible about it. I had grown so much the past year, and still I was scared. Scared of what was probably some invisible boogeyman who didn’t approve of me dating a guy. I ended up crying, and my cousin talked to me about it.

When we got home, she and my siblings told me that they were going to be there for me so I could tell Dad. I was shitting bricks, and stuttered through the words. He responded with saying that of course I could be with my boyfriend, and that he loved me just as before. Hearing him say that again, after all I did, meant everything.

The next day, my sister decided to get my mind off of it (and also celebrate my younger sibling’s birthday lol) by having a sleepover at her apartment. We got a cake, played with her roommates, and went to the beach. I felt like I could enjoy myself again, with or without my bf.

We ended up breaking up and deciding to remain friends a few months after. I really enjoyed the time we spent together, but senior year was very busy, and we had spent so much time away that summer that I had trouble reconnecting. Attraction is very fickle like that.

But now my family is closer than it’s ever been, and I’ve been trying to tell them how I feel more. I’m closer to my siblings than ever, and I’ve gotten over my heartbreak. There’s still a lot of stuff I have to work on, but for what it’s worth, I don’t have any regrets.

When I told Mom we broke up and we’re staying friends, she said she was glad that we did what we felt was right. She said that she would always be there for me if I wanted to talk, and she wanted me to feel happy, no matter what.

If you haven’t noticed, I’m not actually bi. I started identifying as gay earlier this year. But I haven’t told many people yet. So far it’s only been my siblings and cousin. I haven’t even told my friends. This is because I’m taking my mom’s advice more. The truth is that sexuality is so much more complicated than I had ever thought was possible. That’s why I only identify as such online. I’m like 95% sure I’m gay at this point. But it’s like Mom said, there’s no rush or time limit on your identity.

I’m trying to balance what my parents have said with my own beliefs. Getting into a relationship so soon after coming out was a rash decision, and even though it was the best thing to happen to me, I probably won’t do it again. I’m glad I did, though.

If I decide to continue identifying as gay, I’ll tell my parents eventually. But in any case, I feel ready to go out into the world as me.

Recounting all these memories was painful at times and beautiful at others. I don’t know if there are any messages to this, but I’m glad I took the very long time out of the day to reflect on this. And if you took the time out of your day to read this, thanks. It means a lot.

Also, make sure to tell my sibling happy early birthday! I’m sure random people’s wishes will mean a lot to them lol.

[takecareluv]

𓏲 ࣪₊diary entry : june fifteenth  .ᐟ

finding the motivation to get back into a routine after not having one for so long can be extremely difficult, at least i have found myself struggling a great deal recently.  no matter how desperate i am for a change in every aspect of my life, it’s so much easier to stay trapped within the bad habits that are holding me back — staying in bed all day, mindless scrolling for hours on end, comparing myself to every beautiful girl i come across on the internet, the list goes on.  i’m so caught up in everyone else's lives that i am entirely forgetting to live and enjoy my own.  i frequently tell myself change will come, things will get better, and i will become the person i've always dreamed of being,  the person i've always been jealous of.  but when?  when will things get better?  when will i stop pitying myself and actually do something about the parts of myself i want and need to see a change in?  

i've come to realize the only answer is now.  i can no longer keep waiting for a new day, week or month for a fresh start.  i can no longer keep putting it off and letting my bad habits get the best of me.  the only person i am hurting by doing so is myself.  a transformation will only come if i start putting the effort in now.  so that is exactly what i am here to do. 

꒰ 📖 ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

i think one of my biggest faults is i expect change to come overnight and that is just unrealistic. i shouldn't expect to do everything in the first day. it's extremely unrealistic to go from no set routine to adding in every desired step sucessfully in one day.  it takes time and a great deal of patience.  without patience, i have watched myself fail time and time again, crawling right back to the destructive habits i was trying to rid myself of in the first place.  with that being said, it is important to remember there will be ups and downs, good days and bad. consistent and meaningful baby steps towards a bigger goal will make the most difference in the long run.  so don't be too hard on yourself ( i’m saying to myself. . . ) 

. . . yesterday i had what would be considered a good day.  i did my skincare first thing in the morning, took the time to make an extra nutritious breakfast, went for a mile long walk around my neighborhood, and did a bit of extra pampering by having a self care shower . . .  while today, on the opposite complete end of the spectrum, i spent majority of my time either sleeping in bed or on the couch. now usually i would be very quick to get down on myself for being so ‘lazy’.  but instead, i reminded myself days like this are just as necessary as the ‘productive’ days. i am not being lazy by allowing for rest — i am giving myself time to recharge and rejuvenate — something quite vital for everyone’s mind and body.

. . . 

⌗ °. •♡ affirmations to use 𓂃

i give myself permission to relax .

i am taking care of my wellbeing by resting .

it is okay to take a break .

i deserve to rest .

rest and relaxation is productive .

i am kind and gentle with myself .

i trust my body to take care of me .

. . .

it is not just okay, but essential that you listen to your body when it’s telling you it needs rest.  and when you feel this , take the day to nourish yourself in more gentle and relaxing ways : watch a comfort movie / show , take a much needed nap , have a warm cup of tea or a cozy meal , listen to your favorite music , cuddle a pet ( or stuffed animal :3 ) , and overall just relax. do things that don’t take as much energy as let’s say working out or cleaning the whole house, but still allow to keep your mind at ease and away from the potentially ‘dark place’ you may otherwise go to. ( which for me personally is social media  :< )

. . . not being so hard on yourself is a crucial way to keep yourself motivated, inspired, and in high spirits while attempting to stay focused on a goal. and for me right now, one of the top things i am working on in order to keep myself in a more positive light throughout my journey this time around. here’s hoping it goes well . . . 

xoxo, meg 💌

[transgenderteensurvivalguide]

“Elliot Page doesn’t remember exactly how long he had been asking.

But he does remember the acute feeling of triumph when, around age 9, he was finally allowed to cut his hair short. “I felt like a boy,” Page says. “I wanted to be a boy. I would ask my mom if I could be someday.” Growing up in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Page visualized himself as a boy in imaginary games, freed from the discomfort of how other people saw him: as a girl. After the haircut, strangers finally started perceiving him the way he saw himself, and it felt both right and exciting.

The joy was short-lived. Months later, Page got his first break, landing a part as a daughter in a Canadian mining family in the TV movie Pit Pony. He wore a wig for the film, and when Pit Pony became a TV show, he grew his hair out again. “I became a professional actor at the age of 10,” Page says. And pursuing that passion came with a difficult compromise. “Of course I had to look a certain way.”

We are speaking in late February. It is the first interview Page, 34, has given since disclosing in December that he is transgender, in a heartfelt letter posted to Instagram, and he is crying before I have even uttered a question. “Sorry, I’m going to be emotional, but that’s cool, right?” he says, smiling through his tears.

It’s hard for him to talk about the days that led up to that disclosure. When I ask how he was feeling, he looks away, his neck exposed by a new short haircut. After a pause, he presses his hand to his heart and closes his eyes. “This feeling of true excitement and deep gratitude to have made it to this point in my life,” he says, “mixed with a lot of fear and anxiety.”

It’s not hard to understand why a trans person would be dealing with conflicting feelings in this moment. Increased social acceptance has led to more young people describing themselves as trans—1.8% of Gen Z compared with 0.2% of boomers, according to a recent Gallup poll—yet this has fueled conservatives who are stoking fears about a “transgender craze.” President Joe Biden has restored the right of transgender military members to serve openly, and in Hollywood, trans people have never had more meaningful time onscreen. Meanwhile, J.K. Rowling is leveraging her cultural capital to oppose transgender equality in the name of feminism, and lawmakers are arguing in the halls of Congress over the validity of gender identities. “Sex has become a political football in the culture wars,” says Chase Strangio, deputy director for transgender justice at the ACLU.

(Full article with photos continued under the “read more”)

And so Page—who charmed America as a precocious pregnant teenager in Juno, constructed dreamscapes in Inception and now stars in Netflix’s hit superhero show The Umbrella Academy, the third season of which he’s filming in Toronto—expected that his news would be met with both applause and vitriol. “What I was anticipating was a lot of support and love and a massive amount of hatred and transphobia,” says Page. “That’s essentially what happened.” What he did not anticipate was just how big this story would be. Page’s announcement, which made him one of the most famous out trans people in the world, started trending on Twitter in more than 20 countries. He gained more than 400,000 new followers on Instagram on that day alone. Thousands of articles were published. Likes and shares reached the millions. Right-wing podcasters readied their rhetoric about “women in men’s locker rooms.” Casting directors reached out to Page’s manager saying it would be an honor to cast Page in their next big movie.

So, it was a lot. Over the course of two conversations, Page will say that understanding himself in all the specifics remains a work in progress. Fathoming one’s gender, an identity innate and performed, personal and social, fixed and evolving, is complicated enough without being under a spotlight that never seems to turn off. But having arrived at a critical juncture, Page feels a deep sense of responsibility to share his truth. “Extremely influential people are spreading these myths and damaging rhetoric—every day you’re seeing our existence debated,” Page says. “Transgender people are so very real.”

That role in Pit Pony led to other productions and eventually, when Page was 16, to a film called Mouth to Mouth. Playing a young anarchist, Page had a chance to cut his hair again. This time, he shaved it off completely. The kids at his high school teased him, but in photos he has posted from that time on social media he looks at ease. Page’s head was still shaved when he mailed in an audition tape for the 2005 thriller Hard Candy. The people in charge of casting asked him to audition again in a wig. Soon, the hair was back.

Page’s tour de force performance in Hard Candy led, two years later, to Juno, a low-budget indie film that brought Page Oscar, BAFTA and Golden Globe nominations and sudden megafame. The actor, then 21, struggled with the stresses of that ascension. The endless primping, red carpets and magazine spreads were all agonizing reminders of the disconnect between how the world saw Page and who he knew himself to be. “I just never recognized myself,” Page says. “For a long time I could not even look at a photo of myself.” It was difficult to watch the movies too, especially ones in which he played more feminine roles.

Page loved making movies, but he also felt alienated by Hollywood and its standards. Alia Shawkat, a close friend and co-star in 2009’s Whip It,describes all the attention from Juno as scarring. “He had a really hard time with the press and expectations,” Shawkat says. “‘Put this on! And look this way! And this is sexy!’”

By the time he appeared in blockbusters like X-Men: The Last Stand and Inception, Page was suffering from depression, anxiety and panic attacks. He didn’t know, he says, “how to explain to people that even though [I was] an actor, just putting on a T-shirt cut for a woman would make me so unwell.” Shawkat recalls Page’s struggles with clothes. “I’d be like, ‘Hey, look at all these nice outfits you’re getting,’ and he would say, ‘It’s not me. It feels like a costume,’” she says. Page tried to convince himself that he was fine, that someone who was fortunate enough to have made it shouldn’t have complaints. But he felt exhausted by the work required to “just exist,” and thought more than once about quitting acting.

In 2014, Page came out as gay, despite feeling for years that “being out was impossible” given his career. (Gender identity and sexual orientation are, of course, distinct, but one queer identity can coexist with another.) In an emotional speech at a Human Rights Campaign conference, Page talked about being part of an industry “that places crushing standards” on actors and viewers alike. “There are pervasive stereotypes about masculinity and femininity that define how we’re all supposed to act, dress and speak,” Page went on. “And they serve no one.”

The actor started wearing suits on the red carpet. He found love, marrying choreographer Emma Portner in 2018. He asserted more agency in his career, producing his own films with LGBTQ leads like Freeheld and My Days of Mercy. And he made a masculine wardrobe a condition of taking roles. Yet the daily discord was becoming unbearable. “The difference in how I felt before coming out as gay to after was massive,” says Page. “But did the discomfort in my body ever go away? No, no, no, no.”

In part, it was the isolation forced by the pandemic that brought to a head Page’s wrestling with gender. (Page and Portner separated last summer, and the two divorced in early 2021. “We’ve remained close friends,” Page says.) “I had a lot of time on my own to really focus on things that I think, in so many ways, unconsciously, I was avoiding,” he says. He was inspired by trailblazing trans icons like Janet Mock and Laverne Cox, who found success in Hollywood while living authentically. Trans writers helped him understand his feelings; Page saw himself reflected in P. Carl’s memoir Becoming a Man. Eventually “shame and discomfort” gave way to revelation. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” Page says, “and letting myself fully become who I am.”

This led to a series of decisions. One was asking the world to call him by a different name, Elliot, which he says he’s always liked. Page has a tattoo that says E.P. PHONE HOME, a reference to a movie about a young boy with that name. “I loved E.T. when I was a kid and always wanted to look like the boys in the movies, right?” he says. The other decision was to use different pronouns—for the record, both he/him and they/them are fine. (When I ask if he has a preference on pronouns for the purposes of this story, Page says, “He/him is great.”)

A day before we first speak, Page will talk to his mom about this interview and she will tell him, “I’m just so proud of my son.” He grows emotional relating this and tries to explain that his mom, the daughter of a minister, who was born in the 1950s, was always trying to do what she thought was best for her child, even if that meant encouraging young Page to act like a girl. “She wants me to be who I am and supports me fully,” Page says. “It is a testament to how people really change.”

Another decision was to get top surgery. Page volunteers this information early in our conversation; at the time he posted his disclosure on Instagram, he was recovering in Toronto. Like many trans people, Page emphasizes being trans isn’t all about surgery. For some people, it’s unnecessary. For others, it’s unaffordable. For the wider world, the media’s focus on it has sensationalized transgender bodies, inviting invasive and inappropriate questions. But Page describes surgery as something that, for him, has made it possible to finally recognize himself when he looks in the mirror, providing catharsis he’s been waiting for since the “total hell” of puberty. “It has completely transformed my life,” he says. So much of his energy was spent on being uncomfortable in his body, he says. Now he has that energy back.

For the transgender community at large, visibility does not automatically lead to acceptance. Around the globe, transgender people deal disproportionately with violence and discrimination. Anti-trans hate crimes are on the rise in the U.K. along with increasingly transphobic rhetoric in newspapers and tabloids. In the U.S., in addition to the perennial challenges trans people face with issues like poverty and homelessness, a flurry of bills in state legislatures would make it a crime to provide transition-related medical care to trans youth. And crass old jokes are still in circulation. When Biden lifted the ban on open service for transgender troops, Saturday Night Live’s Michael Che did a bit on Weekend Update about the policy being called “don’t ask, don’t tuck.”

Page says coming out as trans was “selfish” on one level: “It’s for me. I want to live and be who I am.” But he also felt a moral imperative to do so, given the times. Human identity is complicated and mysterious, but politics insists on fitting everything into boxes. In today’s culture wars, simplistic beliefs about gender—e.g., chromosomes = destiny—are so widespread and so deep-seated that many people who hold those beliefs don’t feel compelled to consider whether they might be incomplete or prejudiced. On Feb. 24, after a passionate debate on legislation that would ban discrimination against LGBTQ people, Representative Marie Newman, an Illinois Democrat, proudly displayed the pride flag in support of her daughter, who is trans. Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene, a Georgia Republican, responded by hanging a poster outside her office that read: There are TWO genders: MALE & FEMALE.

The next day Dr. Rachel Levine, who stands to become the first openly transgender federal official confirmed by the Senate, endured a tirade from Senator Rand Paul about “genital mutilation” during her confirmation hearing. My second conversation with Page happens shortly after this. He brings it up almost immediately, and seems both heartbroken and determined. He wants to emphasize that top surgery, for him, was “not only life-changing but lifesaving.” He implores people to educate themselves about trans lives, to learn how crucial medical care can be, to understand that lack of access to it is one of the many reasons that an estimated 41% of transgender people have attempted suicide, according to one survey.

Page has been in the political trenches for a while, having leaned into progressive activism after coming out as queer in 2014. For two seasons, he and best friend Ian Daniel filmed Gaycation, a Viceland series that explored LGBTQ culture around the world and, at one point, showed Page grilling Senator Ted Cruz at the Iowa State Fair about discrimination against queer people. In 2019, Page made a documentary called There’s Something in the Water, which explores environmental hardships experienced by communities of color in Nova Scotia, with $350,000 of his own money. That activism extends to his own industry: in 2017, he published a Facebook post that, among other things, accused director Brett Ratner of forcibly outing him as gay on the set of an X-Men movie. (A representative for Ratner did not respond to a request for comment.)

As a trans person who is white, wealthy and famous, Page has a unique kind of privilege, and with it an opportunity to advocate for those with less. According to the U.S. Trans Survey, a large-scale report from 2015, transgender people of color are more likely to experience unemployment, harassment by police and refusals of medical care. Nearly half of all Black respondents reported being denied equal treatment, verbally harassed and/or physically attacked in the past year. Trans people as a group fare much worse on such stats than the general population. “My privilege has allowed me to have resources to get through and to be where I am today,” Page says, “and of course I want to use that privilege and platform to help in the ways I can.”

Since his disclosure, Page has been mostly quiet on social media. One exception has been to tweet on behalf of the ACLU, which is in the midst of fighting anti-trans bills and laws around the country, including those that ban transgender girls and women from participating in sports. Mississippi Governor Tate Reeves says he will sign such a bill in the name of “protect[ing] young girls.” Page played competitive soccer and vividly recalls the agony of being told he would have to play on the girls’ team once he aged out of mixed-gender squads. After an appeal, Page was allowed to play with the boys for an additional year. Today, several bills list genitalia as a requirement for deciding who plays on which team. “I would have been in that position as a kid,” Page says. “It’s horrific.”

All this advocacy is unlikely to make life easier. “You can’t enter into certain spaces as a public trans person,” says the ACLU’s Strangio, “without being prepared to spend some percentage of your life being threatened and harassed.” Yet, while he seems overwhelmed at times, Page is also eager. Many of the political attacks on trans people—whether it is a mandate that bathroom use be determined by birth sex, a blanket ban on medical interventions for trans kids or the suggestion that trans men are simply wayward women beguiled by male privilege���carry the same subtext: that trans people are mistaken about who they are. “We know who we are,” Page says. “People cling to these firm ideas [about gender] because it makes people feel safe. But if we could just celebrate all the wonderful complexities of people, the world would be such a better place.”

Even if Page weren’t vocal, his public presence would communicate something powerful. That is in part because of what Paisley Currah, a professor of political science at Brooklyn College, calls “visibility gaps.” Historically, trans women have been more visible, in culture and in Hollywood, than trans men. There are many explanations: Our culture is obsessed with femininity. Men’s bodies are less policed and scrutinized. Patriarchal people tend to get more emotional about who is considered to be in the same category as their daughters. “And a lot of trans men don’t stand out as trans,” says Currah, who is a trans man himself. “I think we’ve taken up less of the public’s attention because masculinity is sort of the norm.”

During our interviews, Page will repeatedly refer to himself as a “transgender guy.” He also calls himself nonbinary and queer, but for him, transmasculinity is at the center of the conversation right now. “It’s a complicated journey,” he says, “and an ongoing process.”

While the visibility gap means that trans men have been spared some of the hate endured by trans women, it has also meant that people like Page have had fewer models. “There were no examples,” Page says of growing up in Halifax in the 1990s. There are many queer people who have felt “that how they feel deep inside isn’t a real thing because they never saw it reflected back to them,” says Tiq Milan, an activist, author and transgender man. Page offers a reflection: “They can see that and say, ‘You know what, that’s who I am too,’” Milan says. When there aren’t examples, he says, “people make monsters of us.”

For decades, that was something Hollywood did. As detailed in the 2020 Netflix documentary Disclosure, transgender people have been portrayed onscreen as villainous and deceitful, tragic subplots or the butt of jokes. In a sign of just how far the industry has come—spurred on by productions like Pose and trailblazers like Mock—Netflix offered to change the credits on The Umbrella Academy the same day that its star posted his statement on social media. Now when an episode ends, the first words viewers see are “Elliot Page.”

Today, there are many out trans and nonbinary actors, directors and producers. Storylines involving trans people are more common, more respectful. Sometimes that aspect of identity is even incidental, rather than the crux of a morality tale. And yet Hollywood can still seem a frightening place for LGBTQ people to come out. “It’s an industry that says, ‘Don’t do that,’” says director Silas Howard, who got his break on Amazon’s show Transparent, which made efforts to hire transgender crew members. “I wouldn’t have been hired if they didn’t have a trans initiative,” Howard says. “I’m always aware of that.”

So what will it mean for Page’s career? While Page has appeared in many projects, he also faced challenges landing female leads because he didn’t fit Hollywood’s narrow mold. Since Page’s Instagram post, his team is seeing more activity than they have in years. Many of the offers coming in—to direct, to produce, to act—are trans-related, but there are also some “dude roles.”

Downtime in quarantine helped Page accept his gender identity. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” he says.

Page was attracted to the role of Vanya in The Umbrella Academy because—in the first season, released in 2019—Vanya is crushed by self-loathing, believing herself to be the only ordinary sibling in an extraordinary family. The character can barely summon the courage to move through the world. “I related to how much Vanya was closed off,” Page says. Now on set filming the third season, co-workers have seen a change in the actor. “It seems like there’s a tremendous weight off his shoulders, a feeling of comfort,” says showrunner Steve Blackman. “There’s a lightness, a lot more smiling.” For Page, returning to set has been validating, if awkward at times. Yes, people accidentally use the wrong pronouns—“It’s going to be an adjustment,” Page says—but co-workers also see and acknowledge him.

The debate over whether cisgender people, who have repeatedly collected awards for playing trans characters, should continue to do so has largely been settled. However, trans actors have rarely been considered for cisgender parts. Whatever challenges might lie ahead, Page seems exuberant about playing a new spectrum of roles. “I’m really excited to act, now that I’m fully who I am, in this body,” Page says. “No matter the challenges and difficult moments of this, nothing amounts to getting to feel how I feel now.”

This includes having short hair again. During our interview, Page keeps rearranging strands on his forehead. It took a long time for him to return to the barber’s chair and ask to cut it short, but he got there. And how did that haircut feel?

Page tears up again, then smiles. “I just could not have enjoyed it more,” he says.”

[stagemanagerssaygo]

Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney’s Hyperion Theater

by Cooper Howell

Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney's Hyperion Theater. #holdingtheateraccountable Im just gonna go ahead and be straight up. This is pretty scary to share. HEAVEN: Once upon a time Liesl Tommy cast me as Prince Hans in Frozen: Live at the Hyperion. And I was gooped. GOOPED. There was nothing in my prior history that gave any indication this was possible. Up until then every role I played had to do with my race. Every. Single. One. And even ones where it didn’t (Shakespeare or classical pieces mostly) I was always made aware that the novelty of me being a poc in that role that gave me the part. So much did I not expect to get this part that when I got the callback I rolled my eyes and didn’t take the actual callback seriously. I mean, there was a zero percent chance that Disney would ever let me play a Prince, especially when the dude in the movie is a ginger. But then I got it. And immediately everything I thought was possible about my career changed. My whole life I’ve never inwardly felt black. I’ve never inwardly felt white. I’ve always felt like I was Cooper, you know, on the inside. But whether it was every single white human in Utah reminding me that I was “the whitest person they ever knew/saw” (which DIDNT mean how white my skin was. It was how white I ACTED) or Mr. Johnson, my 7th grade drama teacher, telling me that he “wanted to put Velcro on the ceiling to see if I’d stick” or Mr. Smith, my high school drama teacher, saying “finally we can do black shows” as soon as I entered high school and then not casting me in roles because of the "optics" of it, or even my best friend in high school Tanner Harmon who called me "blackie", I was always reminded that I was an other. So imagine getting paid good money to put on that $10,000 costume and waltzing out to 4000 people a day to play a really amazing part. A fantastic, evil, complicated, person who sings a killer duet and then grabs the show by the throat with a vicious about-face monologue... and not once was my race ever mentioned cuz it didnt matter. What was being prized was Cooper, my talent, not my skin color that I never asked for. Heaven. Liesl MADE SURE, almost overly sure, that the poc’s in the cast felt equal. The kingdom of Arendelle, after all, is a make believe place. It can be whatever. From having Disney executives come and tell us that they were happy to have us there, to side conversations with John Lasseter, we were made to feel overly welcome playing the parts we were playing. She encouraged us to dive deeper into the script of a cartoon that I didnt really think much of until I was in it. We were encouraged to ask why. We felt seen as talent and not commodities. There were, of course, detractors. Gosh, I remember people at a party of cast members from "Mickey and the Magical Map" another show at Disneyland which features a princess and the frog number and many of those casts mates angrily claiming that “if that black girl Tiana Okoye can play Elsa than I should be able to play Princess Tiana” and then looking at me to confirm that was okay to say, not realizing that a) she’s one of my best friends, b) that I’m in the show with her also playing a role that wasn't created to be a poc, c) how racist that sounded, and d) why there's a difference there and why that wouldn't make sense. On Liesls final night I came up to her and said “I don’t know why you did it but thank you so much for casting ME in this part” to which she replied “you mean why would I cast a handsome, talented person in this role?” And I stuttered something like “well, I mean, I’m black. You know...” to which she tilted her head to her side and said “no. I don’t know why. Tell me why that matters.” And I had no answer. Seeing that I had no answer she smiled. That was the answer. There was no reason. On the spot my outlook about myself changed. Windows into what I thought was possible for me opened. -------------------------------------- HELL: And then Liesl went back to NYC and she was replaced by a man named Roger Castellano as show director. Rogers task, he told us on the first day, was to "change the show". We were not told what needed to be changed or even why, but that changes were on the horizon. You've got to understand: to a full cast of actors who had just spent more than three months dissecting a 60 page Disney script with a Tony nominated director like it was Shakespeare, we were initially emotionally/mentally/spiritually resistant to changes. But then it became clear that the spirit of collaboration was over, and the show changes were to be given without the same care, consideration, and thematic explanation of why they were being made. Everyones initial reaction was to push back, but when people who questioned their notes or their changes started getting days removed their schedule or being replaced entirely by a new actor, the Hyperion theater became a place where no one was allowed to speak out. Injustices were happening left and right and no one felt they could do anything for fear of losing their livelihood. And that's when the Frozen: Live at the Hyperion became a living hell. In my first note session with Roger he pulled me into a room with Domonique Paton, my best friend and incredible costar who played princess Anna in the show I was in. She just so happens to also be black. Almost all of Prince Hans’s scenes in the show are with her character and so most of my notes would be primarily based on those interactions with her. Earlier in the day I performed with a different (white) actress but it was the show with Domonique that I had a note session about. Imagine my surprise and dismay when, with how Liesl set up the show experience, we were told this: “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER ITS TOO… URBAN.” Urban. What else could that have meant, do you think? He could have said maybe “too contemporary” emphasizing that we were maybe too modern in our speech patterns or movements. We weren’t. He could have said “too lax” or “too loose” meaning that maybe we were being unprofessional and goofy up there because we’re really good friends. We were not. The best me and Ms. Paton could think of was a 8 count moment of improv dance that me and Domonique decided to use as a synchronized moment of unity. It happened to fall on the line “our mental synchronization can have but one explanation” and thought, with the freedom that Christopher (the original choreographer) had given us, was appropriate, especially considering everyone behind us was doing the robot. As in the 80s robot. But he didnt clarify. He just said “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER IT’S TOO… URBAN” And when asked what he meant he smiled with a little shrug and said "you can figure that out. You're smart." And thats how I became Black Hans and Domonique became Black Anna. My every moment onstage afterwards became about the optics of being a poc in that show. It was if I was suddenly made aware that I was LUCKY enough to be there and under any normal circumstances, or this new directors circumstances, me getting this part would have never happened. But the message was clear. It was especially clear when me and Domonique Paton shows together durastically decreased and made even more clear when the vast majority of the new hires were not people of color. But no one said anything. And made even MORE clear when, over the next few weeks, both Domonique and I got COPIOUS notes, ten times that of our coworkers that played the same parts. It was almost a game. In fact we did turn it into a game, seeing who would get the least amount of notes from him in a day. Our costars would even joke about it onstage with us, during the ballroom scene, and jokingly whisper "The shows been up 15 minutes. How many do you think you got today?" But no one said anything. And the notes were about all kinds of things. How we held our hand. If our inflections went up or down on a word. Which side of a couch we leaned on… which was fine! When you're an actor, thats the gig... until we started comparing our notes with the actors that played our same parts and none of them, NONE, would get the same notes. Our notes would be outrageously longer, the note sessions sometimes lasting 10/15 minutes. Others would get the “Oh hey, try doing this or that next time, okay bye” walk-by notes. Sometimes I would sneak into the audience and watch as some of the other Han's, some of whom changed lines, changed entire intentions of scenes, some of whom adding in all types of vocalizations and cackles and dance moves and what have you, and would receive ZERO notes. But I was watching them to see what was wrong with me. What was my performance missing? What am I actually doing to feel this singled out. And then I realized that the thing that was wrong with me was that I was a different color than the 5 other white Hans's they cast. And then I started getting notes about my penis. Most of the time these “penis sessions”, as I called them, were given in private rooms without another stage manager present. It was incredibly unpleasant and unprofessional. In fairness, those Prince Hans pants are TIGHT! And yes, Mr. Howell is indeed a party in the front and a party in the back, but so were a lot of those fellas. And thats where I put my foot down. If Disney was going to provide me with a costume it is not my responsibility to fix their problem, especially when other of my (white) costars had been given a dance belt for the same thing. But they never got penis notes. Private session notes about what their penis looked like in that show. Over and over again I was told to fix it, to not make it (my dick) so apparent, and that “if my daughter were younger I wouldn’t want her to come to a show you were performing at" all the more insulting considering his daughter, a cast member in the show, was a friend of mine and the loveliest person. He started demanding that I buy a dance belt. It was “my fault”, “my responsibility” …and thats where I took my stand. And then it really became hell. Penis sessions were now done out in the open. Once, he screamed at me, in the green room in front of all of my costars during lunch, about how incredible unprofessional I was, about how he was tired of seeing my dick, and that if I didnt go buy myself one I didnt deserve to be there anymore. Followed by a huge litany of notes. That doesnt compare to some of what Domonique went through and I invite her to share them if she’s willing. During this time I went to every stage manager in the building and told them about being singling out and about my penis. They all told me to write a complaint report and it would go to some place called "HR". Which I did. Numerously. More months passed. Nothing from "HR". Multiple cast members who witnessed my note sessions encouraged me to go to the HR themselves. I didnt honestly know what an HR was. As soon as it was explained to me by my allies even what an HR was I went to the head of HR at Disneyland herself and waited outside of her door. I asked her if she got any of my HR reports and she told me that she had received no HR reports from the Hyperion. Ever. And then asked me to fill out a HR form. As we went over it, she asked me some questions, and then set up a second meeting. On the second meeting she said that in order for my report to be given credence I would need witnesses to give their testimony. The witnesses, in fact the very people that told me to go to HR in the first place, said no. They didnt want to lose their jobs. In retrospect that might be the thing that hurt the most but, whatever... anyway, I was told "“well… without testimonies we’ll do an investigation and we’ll call you when we’ve completed it.” I never received a phone call. With absolutely zero protection from the stage managers from both the sexual harassment or my obvious racial targeting I (and others) were experiencing, not to mention that HR reports were doing nothing, aka not being forwarded, I thought about quitting. And when a white stage manager made a show mistake and laughed it off to the cast by saying an entirely offensive lynching joke, I quit. I didnt matter to Disney. How I felt and what I was being put through didnt matter. I was a commodity. My departure was unceremonious. Bizarre. 100% un-magical. I hung up my costume one last time and it was given to a new Hans, one who looked very much like me oddly, and stepped out of the theater. The park was playing “every wish your heart desires will come to you” and I remember laughing at how dead that song felt. The director has since moved on but still works as a musical theater director in Southern California. This one time 4 years ago I got to feel something other than my color for the first and only time in my professional career. It lasted from about March 2016 to July 2016 and never again since. I will never forget in those early days looking at all the beautiful princesses I got to woo and thinking “wow. I’m a prince right now.” Im sure that sounds stupid. But it didn't feel stupid. And a Disney prince! Yeah, a shitty prince kinda... I mean, he's a sociopath... BUT still a Prince! Especially special was being able to look in Dominique’s eyes and I could see the same glimmer of “can you believe we get to do this right now” reflected back. We never knew it was in the cards for us. My race always has and will always be part of my career equation and a determining factor of its projection. It will always be a determining factor in how im treated, by creatives, by people, by the those in authority over me, including the government and the police. #wasitmyskin

Copied in its entirety here from Cooper Howell’s public Facebook post: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10163696376095054&set=a.10151302685610054&type=3&theater

[darkmulti]

hi, can you write yandere! bts reaction to you slapping them in an argument please?

⚠️: Yandere!BTS, slapping, implied smut, manipulation

-> sorry for any mistakes

»»———————————- ♔ -———————————««

Jin

Jin was once again, being narrow minded. “It was for work, Jin! I wasn’t working with him for fun, it’s our job. I can’t believe you punched him in the face. You embarrassed me in front of everyone!”

“Great! If you’re embarrassed, quit your job! So you never have to see them again!

“I’m not quitting! You can get that out of your head! I would leave you before quitting-” a hard slap cut you off. You instinctively covered your stinging cheek and took a step back. You were in a state of shock. Yes, you and Jin had petty arguments here and there but they never got physical. By the end of the day, you guys worked it out. However, after he laid his hand on you, you knew it was over. You looked up at him and slapped him right back. “Fuck you! We’re over.”

You turned around and ran upstairs to your shared bedroom. This house was under Jin’s name so it was you who has to go. You grabbed your suitcase and started packing all your clothes. Jin rushed into the shared room and pulled your suitcase away. He dumped all the clothes on the ground and threw the suitcase across the room.

“You’re not fucking leaving! Hang up all these clothes. Stop overreacting like a pathetic little bitch.”

You scoff and get off the floor. “I’m a ‘pathetic little bitch’?! Says my insecure husband.”

“You won’t be able to survive without me. No other man would be able to spoil you like I do. I’ve given you the high life, now obey me in return.”

“I’m not your slave, I don’t have to fucking listen to you.”

“Do you pay the bills in this house?! Do you buy the groceries?! Do you pay for insurance?! No? Then, shut up. You wouldn’t have anything if it weren’t for me. You’d probably be living on the streets if I didn’t take you in. I was the one who made sure you got that job because I knew it would make you happy. If it weren’t for me, those guys would’ve laughed in your face, Y/N. All you do is go to work, flirt with your co-workers and act all big shot around me. The least you could do is respect me and our relationship.” With that, he slammed the door shut, leaving you alone while you questioned your worth.

Yoongi

It started off as a calm and quiet evening but as soon as your phone vibrated, it quickly changed.

You began working for a new company and your new boss has been up your ass. He treats you like a personal assistant and it was pissing you off. You noticed that you were the only one who was being treated like this and it angered you. Once you’re clocked out, you don’t like to be disturbed unless it’s urgent. But your boss doesn’t seem to understand that and asks you to do work while your clocked out. You obviously refuse because why should you do work if you’re not getting paid?

Anyways, he’s always texting you about how to do different kinds of paper work, who’s working, who’s not working, how to hire people, ect — he should know how to do all of it because he’s the boss. When your off work, he’s texting you ever 10-15 minutes, asking for help. You’re tired of it, but can’t really do anything about it. You can’t quit just yet because you’re trying to prove to your boyfriend that you don’t need him to survive.

Yoongi has always underestimated you. Man literally thinks that you’re dumb. One night, you both got into a heated argument and he told you that you wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him. The very next day, you went to a bunch of job interviews and got hired on that same day.

It’s been two weeks at your new job and ever since, your phone is always blowing up thanks to your boss. Even at 10pm, your boss is texting you about work. Yoongi became annoyed because you were always on your phone. You guys got into another argument about this so now, you hide your phone from him so he can’t see the notifications.

Ever since then, things have been a little better. Tonight was movie night and you foolishly had your phone in your hand. Throughout the movie, your phone was lighting up and vibrating multiple times and a Yoongi was tired of it.

“Who the hell are you texting now?!” He snatched your phone out of your hands and when he saw that it was your boss, he threw your phone against the wall. “I told you to block that man! Yet, you go against me and continue to text him! Are you sleeping with him? Are you cheating on me with him?!” He screamed, making your heart leap out of your chest.

You didn’t say anything. Instead you ran to the door. You didn’t want to deal with him anymore. You deserved better. You tried to leave but he slammed the door on your fingers and pulled you back inside. You slapped his face and tried leaving again but he grabbed your hair and pulled you down to the basement.

“You made me do this to you. I warned you plenty of times to stay off your phone but do you listen to me? No. I’ve given you too much freedom and now you don’t know how to behave. That stops now.”

Hoseok

“Get up. Boss wants to see you.” The guards said, pulling you up by your arms and dragging you out of the cell. “Boss my asshole. Who does he think he is? Kidnapping me for no good reason. I just wanted coffee and now I’m god knows where!” The guard chuckles at your bratty behaviour. “Just a little advice, don’t talk to boss like that. He’ll blow your brains out.”

“Shut up, muscle head. Don’t tell me what to do.” The guard stops and aims a gun at your head. “Do it muscle head. Your boss will be so proud of you.” You said sarcastically. “Shut your mouth and keep walking. I may not be allowed to kill you but I can still still hurt you — really badly.”

“Are you threatening me muscle head?” You turn around, ready to scrap with the guard. He may be a lot bigger than you, but you’re a lot smarter and clever.

“Hey, hey, do we have a problem here?” A familiar voice interrupted. You turn around and your heart drops when you see his face. “No, boss. She’s just refusing to-”

“Hoseok?” You cut the guard off and step back. “Oh, so you still remember me?” He smirks and walks towards you but you keep walking back. “What do you want from me?”

“Isn’t the answer obvious? I want you back.”

“No! I broke up with you because you’re crazy. Leave me alone now. I’m a different person. I’m not the same Y/N that you manipulated and controlled. I left her behind. Now let me go!”

Hoseok cornered you. There was no where to run. “Are you sure that you left her behind? You’re claiming that you changed but you’re still very naive, darling.”

His words made your blood boil. Hoseok mentally and emotionally abused you. With the help of therapy, you were able to pick up and put your broken self together. You thought that you’ve become a stronger person, but as soon as you saw his face, your confidence was washed away.

“I- I told you, I’m different now!” You tried to sound brave, but your facial expression sold you out. Hoseok wasn’t dumb; he knew you were scared shitless. “So, show me that your a different person. How will you escape me this time, darling?” He traps you in between his arms and leans in close to your face. In a panic, you slapped him across the face and made a run for it.

You somehow managed to get out of his large mansion, but Hoseok was running after you the whole time. You tried losing him at sharp turns and big crowds, but he was right on your ass. You saw a security guard and bolted towards him. “Sir, sir! There’s a- a man...” you said, to catch your breath, “a man chasing me. He kidnapped me. Please, I need your help.”

“That’s enough darling.” Hoseok caught up to you and without a second thought, you hid behind the security guard. “Sir, please! Arrest this man! He kidnapped me!”

The security guard was ready to take action until he saw the man’s face. “M-mr. Jung?! Sir, I had no idea that she was running from you! Sir, I’m so sorry! Please forgive me!” The guard grabbed your arm and pushed you to Hoseok.

The commotion had everyone watching. The security guard was on his knees with his hands interlocked together. “Please spare my family and I. Mr. Jung it was an honest mistake.”

“What the hell?” You quietly muttered. “You see that, darling. Everyone is afraid of me. So you can run all you want, but you can never ever hide from me.”

Namjoon

After a long week of work, your husband wanted to treat you to dinner. You’ve both been extremely busy due to your hectic schedule and it’s caused you both to drift apart. The only time you see Namjoon is in the morning and before going to bed.

It was Friday evening and you were getting ready for date night. You wore a gorgeous dress that was somewhat revealing but you were fine with it. You just wanted to look good for your husband.

You both agreed to meet at the restaurant and when Namjoon saw you, his jaw dropped. He possessively wrapped his arm around your waist and guided you to your private table. It was outside on a balcony. You guys had an ocean view, the weather was perfect and the stars were out. It was super romantic.

The date was perfect until the waiter started checking you out. Namjoon was visibly annoyed by the waiter but kept it to himself until he left. “Why did you have to wear that dress? Are you doing this on purpose? So other guys can check you out?” You were taken back by his questions. “No, I wore this dress for you, not for some random men.”

Namjoon scoffed and bit the inside of his cheek. “When will you stop lying?” He mumbled, but you were able to pick it up. “I’m not lying, Joon. And quite frankly, I’m hurt that you think I’m doing this for other men. You’re making me feel bad about myself.”

You got up and left but he followed behind. You walked out of the restaurant and got into your car. You drove back home without giving Namjoon a second glance. Once you arrived home, Namjoon pulled up next to your car. You both entered the house in silence.

Namjoon’s phone began ringing so, he went upstairs to answer it. After tidying the house, you went upstairs and overheard his conversation. “We could’ve had a wonderful night, but my wife doesn’t know how to dress.”

Now, he’s pissed you off. You slam open the room door, grab his phone and hang up. “Do you enjoy putting your own wife down?! Do you enjoy humiliating her?! I wore this dress for you! I wanted to look good for you! I wanted you to complement me and tell me I look pretty but instead you slut shame me!”

Out of anger, you slap him across the face. “I want a divorce. I’m not staying with someone who made me feel like complete shit. You can keep this house, I don’t want anything from you.”

Namjoon looked down and started to laugh. His laugh gradually got louder and it started to creep you out. You took a couple steps away from him but he noticed and grabbed your wrist. “You want a divorce? So you can go back to that restaurant and gets that waiters number? Over my dead body. You’re never leaving me. If I have to hurt you, I will.”

Jimin

“Jimin! Stop it! You’re overreacting!”

Jimin dragged you out of his friends house and pushed you into the car, creating a scene. Everyone was watching him degrade you for not wearing your wedding ring.

“You forgot?! What kind of wife do I have?! Are you dumb?! How could you forgot to wear your wedding ring?! That ring shows everyone that you’re mine!”

Jimin was full on screaming in your face and you couldn’t handle it. You broke down crying into your hands. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you! It truly wasn’t my intention.” You were beyond terrified. You didn’t want to go home because you knew he would punish you. Even though he humiliated in front of everyone, you’d rather stay around people than go home and be alone with him.

You were about to go down on your knees until he slapped you and dragged you along. You tried getting out of his grip and in the process you accidentally slapped him. It wasn’t a hard slap or anything, you were just trying to get away. But of course, Jimin made it a big deal.

“First, you forgot your wedding ring; second, you flirted with all my friends and now, you slapped me?! Why don’t you want to leave, huh?! Who are you sleeping with?! Who are you trying to replace me with?!”

“No one! I didn’t mean to slap you! I’m sorry!” You were crying your eyes out. You’ve never seen Jimin this aggravated. You were afraid of what he might do to you so, you gave in because you didn’t want to worsen your punishment. He pushed you into the car and slammed the door shut. Throughout the car ride, his hand squeezed your thigh.

“You don’t even know what’s coming your way. Just wait till we get home” He muttered, causing your heart to drop into your stomach.

Taehyung

“Taehyung! Let me go! People are going to notice that I’m missing! You can’t keep me here forever!” You yelled, banging on the metal door.

It was your foolish mistake; trying to break up with him at his house. The moment you told him you want to part ways, he grabbed you and pushed you into the basement. Of course you fought back, but miserably lost against him. Now it was a game of waiting. Waiting for someone to notice your presence missing.

- 3 days later -

It been a couple days and you’re still locked in the basement. There was no clock or a window so you couldn’t keep track of time. Taehyung hadn’t come downstairs to check on you either. You were starving and living off the bathroom tap water. You were lying on the ground, looking lifeless when the heavy metal doors opened.

“Are you done playing your childish games?” Taehyung asked, crossing his arms. “You should be asking yourself that question, Taehyung. I’m not playing any games. I’m serious when I say I want out of this relationship.”

Taehyung closed the doors and walked towards you. He grabbed your shirt and pulled you close to his face. “All the years we spent together, you wanna throw it all away, angel?”

You turn your head away from him, avoiding his dark orbs. Taehyung noticed you avoiding his eyes so he pushed you against the wall and leaned in close to your face. “Look at me when I talk to you, angel. Or are you scared?” You were on the verge of tears but you didn’t want to appear weak in front of him. You looked him straight in the eyes and muttered, “get away from me.”

“You don’t tell me what to do, angel...” he grabbed your ear and tugged on it, “I’m your master. You listen to me.” His deep voice sent chills down your spine. You were close to dropping on your knees and submitting to him out of fear. But you didn’t. You couldn’t show him that you’re weak. “Taehyung, I’m serious! Get away from me!”

Taehyung frowned. You were really getting on his nerve. Was he not a good boyfriend? He spoiled you with gifts, spent all his time with you and he never cheated on you. What was he doing wrong? He thought to himself. “Why is my perfect, little, angel acting out? Look at me, angel. Tell me what I did wrong? Did you fall out of love? Did you find someone new?”

You look at him, dumbfounded. “Taehyung, you’re trying to control me! You’re making my decisions for me. I can’t go out alone, and if I do, you stalk me! Then you get possessive for no reason! You almost killed my bestfriend because he gave me a hug! You take things too far and you don’t trust me even after being together for years! You just want to control my life and feel like I’m suffocating when I’m with you.”

You could see fire in Taehyung’s eyes. He raised his hand, ready to slap you but before he could, you slapped him and ran for your life. You were light headed and weak, however if Taehyung finds you, you’ll face severe consequences.

Jungkook

Jungkook was going on and on about you going out with your male bestfriend.

You texted Jungkook last minute because you knew if you had told him earlier, he wouldn’t allow you to go. You simply messaged him, “I’m going out with Namjoon, I’ll be home by 6pm.”

Jungkook was livid. He called you multiple times but you were too scared to pick up. Finally, his 7th attempt was when you decided to pick up.

“Where the fuck are you?! I’m coming to pick you up right now.”

“Jungkook we just came to the restaurant, I’m not leaving.”

“Do you think it’s appropriate to go to a restaurant with another man?! What if people think you guys are dating, huh? You’re a fucking cheater. Tell me your location, now!”

“For the love of god, I’m not cheating on you! Namjoon and I have known each other since middle school. I’ve known him longer than I’ve known you. We are nothing but friends.”

Jungkook was pissed. He hung up the phone and went home. He poured himself a glass of whiskey before sitting down on the couch. He was waiting for your arrival. It was 5:54pm when the front door opened. You were right on time.

“See, I told you I’d be back by 6pm. I don’t know why you have to make everything such a big deal.”

“While I’m working my ass off, you’re out with another man.” He said, putting the glass of whiskey down.

“I work too, Jungkook. And I’m a full time student. If you want to get even with me, go out with your female friends. I wouldn’t mind at all. As long as they remain friends.”

Jungkook stood up and starting walking towards you. “So, you can cheat, but I can’t?” A taunting smile took over his face.

“Again, Jungkook? I am not cheating on you! Namjoon is just my close friend. That’s all. Nothing more or less.” You said, crossing your arms and unconsciously stepping back.

“Stop lying. Just tell me now and maybe I’ll forgive you.” You scoff and roll your eyes. “I don’t have time to deal with you, Jungkook. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, because you were fucking around with Namjoon, right?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You turned around to leave but Jungkook pulled you back, harshly. Instinctively, your hand landed a heavy slap on his face. Unexpectedly, Jungkook slapped you right back — but a lot harder.

You winced as you held your warm cheek. Hot tears gliding down your face. Without thinking twice, you made a run for the door but Jungkook tackled you to the floor.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?!”

You can make your own ending:)

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

What If? (H.JS)

Warnings : mention of divorce 

Word Count : 1897

Synopsis : she had never seen jisung as anything more than just a friend. that is until her and jisung volunteered to do a couples photoshoot for their mutual friend. seeing the way he looked at her, the way they just seemed to match perfectly had her wondering, what if they were more than friends?

“He said my portfolio isn’t good enough. There isn’t enough variety.” Hyunjin whined as he plopped beside me on the couch. I could see the disappointment and exhaustion in his eyes when he looked at me. He had been working on his photography portfolio for months now, hoping to impress his professor.

           “Did he give you any ideas to help expand your portfolio?” I asked, running my fingers through his hair. It’s always helped calm him down, or that’s what he told me.

           “He wants me to try to do a couples photoshoot, since I do a lot of portrait shoots. But I don’t even know any couples!” I slowly began to massage his head as he moved to rest his head in my lap, his eyes closing as he did so.

           “Y/N and I will do it.” Jisung offered from the kitchen. Hyunjin’s eyes shot open, meeting mine immediately.

           “Is there something you two aren’t telling me?” He questioned, causing Jisung and I to burst into laughter.

           “No, but we can act like it front of the camera.” Jisung chuckled as he sat in the chair beside the couch.

           “Besides, most of the school thinks we’re dating anyway.” I joked. Ever since high school, people have thought Jisung and I were couple since we’ve always been so close. Jisung is quite introverted and nervous around a lot of people, and he’s told me before that I comfort him just by being beside him. Growing up, he always clung to me in one way or another, not that I ever minded.

           “Yeah, when I met you two in high school, I could have sworn you two were a couple.�� Hyunjin added, sitting up on the couch. “But you two would really do a couples photoshoot for me?” We exchanged looks before nodded.

           “You’re our friend and this is important to you. Of course we’ll help.” I smiled.

           The three of us set out to find some nice shooting locations the next day. It was the perfect day for a photoshoot; the sun shining high in the sky. Every once in a while, Hyunjin would stop us and we’d take some pictures. Jisung and I looked up some references so we knew how to pose and make it look more realistic.

           There was a lot of longing stares and laughter at how ridiculous this felt. Hyunjin was completely focused as Jisung and I posed for him. This was his final project and was worth 50% of his grade, and I could tell it was stressing him out. We tried our best to look as in love as possible, trying to hold in our laughter until the picture was taken, but sometimes it was difficult.

           “Stop looking at me like that.” Jisung chuckled, hiding his face behind his hands. I reached out, taking one of his hands in mine and continued looking longingly into his eyes. “Yah!” I watched as his cheeks became a rosy colour.

           “Let me love you!” I yelled as he suddenly took off running. As I caught up to him, I jumped on his back, thinking it would tackle him to the ground, but I was surprised when he caught my legs in his hands and continued running with me on his back. “Yah Han Jisung!” I shrieked, begging him to drop me.

           “Didn’t think this one through, did you princess?” I cringed at the cliché nickname, lightly hitting the top of his head in protest. “Yah! Don’t hit me!”

           The three of us ended up at a cafe looking through the pictures Hyunjin took throughout the day, after he downloaded them to his laptop. Jisung would point at one he thought was really nice, asking to send them to him later. But I just stared, my heart suddenly picking up pace.

           I stared at the pictures, seeing the wide smiles on both our faces. How perfectly our hands seemed to fit together. Hyunjin even took pictures of us when we were just being ourselves, running around the park with me on his back. You couldn’t tell the difference between the pictures where we were acting like a couple and when we were just hanging out.

           In all the years I’ve known Jisung, I’ve never seen him as anything more than my best friend. But looking at these pictures is like looking into another reality where he’s my boyfriend, and I don’t mind it.

           Han Jisung has always been the person I turn to when I have news to share, good or bad. Through all the hard times and fights, he stuck by me, promising me he’d never leave. He’s the person that knows me better than I know myself. He knows exactly what I need without me asking for it. It’s like he can read my mind.

           There’s no denying that he’s handsome either. He has a smile that can light up a room. Whenever I’m having a bad day, his smile alone can brighten it, bringing a smile to my face as well. And he’s got the cutest cheeks that puff out when he shoves food in his face, much like a squirrel. It’s one of my favourite parts about him. Honestly, I love everything about him.

           There’s no doubt in my mind that I accidentally fell for my best friend. I fell for him a long time ago, but I refused to admit it. But looking at these pictures, my heart can’t deny it anymore. I’m in love with Han Jisung.

           “Hey, Y/N, you okay?” Jisung’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “Do you not like the pictures? Are we not a cute couple?” He joked, his famous smile dancing across his lips. I couldn’t help but smile back.

           “We’re obviously the cutest! All the pictures are amazing, Jinnie.” Hyunjin smiled at us, the stress seeming to wash off him completely.

           “Honestly, you two would make a really cute couple. Look at this picture.” He showed us a picture he took just a bit ago when we got to the café. Jisung and I were standing in line, waiting to order. As per usual, Jisung had his arm draped across my shoulders, and I was holding his hand that was hanging off my shoulder, our fingers laced together. We were staring at each other, wide smiles on our faces. We weren’t even posing, that’s just how we’ve always been. “You are the happiest with each other.” Hyunjin added, but Jisung and I were both silent, realization hitting us both.

           “Wow.” Jisung breathed out, his eyes suddenly meeting mine. “I’m so handsome!” He exclaimed, a wide smile taking over his face. I let out a laugh, but I could feel my heart drop. It was obvious that I was the only one who fell.

           I eventually excused myself with the excuse of a project due in a couple days that I needed to finish. I put my earbuds in and took the long way home, overthinking every little thing between Jisung and I over the years. When did my feelings change?

           Was it the night my parents divorced and I couldn’t stop crying, wondering what went wrong? Jisung came over after I had called him and he heard I was crying. I told him not to, but he still showed up, drenched from the pouring rain, holding a bag of all my favourite snacks. He held me until my sobs faded and wiped away the drying tears.

           Maybe it was when we were partnered for a project in high school and we were in my room, laughing about something completely unrelated to the project. We stayed up late into the night, until my dad came upstairs, offering Jisung the spare room to sleep in, saying he already called his parents. Jisung was awake before me, waking me up with breakfast in bed and a shy smile.

           It could have been when I was stood up, and instead of just picking me up and allowing me to do the lonely walk of shame out of the fancy restaurant, he barged in, apologizing profusely for being late. I smiled when I saw him dressed in his best suit, his hair a mess from the obvious run he did to get there. He even paid despite the high price and his dwindling bank account.

           Or it could have been a mix of everything. Maybe my feelings were never platonic. I always seemed to laugh louder and smile more when he’s around.

           A short vibration from my phone pulled me from my thoughts. I opened the message from Hyunjin, seeing a couple pictures from today on my screen along with a short message. I don’t think you two are just friends.

           The pictures were ones he didn’t show us at the café, or at least not when I was there. The first one seemed to be from when we were just wandering around looking for a location to shoot. I was looking somewhere off camera, probably looking around for a place to shoot. But Jisung’s eyes were on me. His hands were in his pockets while a soft smile danced across his lips. The way he looked at me was the way guys in movies look at their lover. Eyes full of love and longing.

           The second picture was during one of the moments we were trying to act like a couple, but we couldn’t contain our laughter. His hands cupped my face, our eyes locked together in a sweet gaze. You could practically hear our laughter just by looking at the picture. And in both of our eyes was the same longing look Jisung gave me in the previous picture.

           The final picture was another from us acting like a couple. I had closed my eyes just like the couple in the reference picture, thinking Jisung did too. Our foreheads were touching, his hands cupping my face once again, and my hands resting on his chest. But his eyes weren’t closed. They were open, looking at me with such love that I could feel the butterflies erupt in my stomach.

           I stopped walking, just staring at the third picture, hope building up in my stomach. The lyrics of the song playing in my earbuds was background music to the sound of my heart pounding.

           Just then, Jisung’s contact picture popped up on screen as he called me. He always knew when I needed him. He knew me better than I knew myself. I should have known I couldn’t keep these feelings a secret from him. He could read me as easily as you can read your favourite book.

           “Turn around.” Was all he said before hanging up. Slowly, I listened to his directions, turning around, and seeing him standing just a few feet away. “You felt it too, didn’t you.” He said, neither one of us taking a step. Strangers just walked on by, not paying us any attention, as if they were extras in a drama we were starring in.

           “Yeah.” Was all I could say, and a smile formed on his face. “I think I always have.” I added, surprised he could hear me with how soft my voice was. He finally walked towards me, closing the short distance between us before cupping my face.

           “Me too.” He whispered before pressing his lips to mine in the first of many kisses we’d share.

[lesyasun]

A while ago I received an interesting question about game aesthetics. The person in that ask really struggles with downloading stuff and finding their own style. They asked me how I came up with what you see on my screenshots. Have you ever thought that you can recognize whose screenshot this is by just a quick glance? Is editing important in photoshop? How to take beautiful screenshots? Today let’s talk about how different one single game could be for each of us and what really makes this mysterious “sims aesthetics”.

EDIT: Sorry, it turned out to be huge with lots of random thoughts :D I hope at least one percent of these is useful!

NOTE: English is not my native language, I apologize for possible grammar or spelling mistakes. I tried my best in writing this!

Ok, let’s imagine that you’re a person who just obtained the sims game or just want a nice fresh start and demolished your download folder. (We all need fresh starts sometimes, right?) The struggle is that you have no idea which style you like the best. There are so many sims blogs. Everyone seems to enjoy what they post but you’re a little bit lost in that jungle. Don’t worry! I’ll try to guide you and share my thoughts.

STEP 1 Choose your general style

I roughly divide all sims blogs that I see on my dashboard into a couple of so-called styles. I’ve been doing it in my mind for ages. I like following different people and seeing diferent editing. None of them are better than others. I hope you understand that it’s just a matter of liking. Ok, here we go. Let me put this sorting hat on you :D

1. Realistic 

Screenshot by @luchiatores

Perhaps, it’s the most important thing that you should decide for yourself. Wether you should use realistic textures in your game or you’d prefer to stick to more cartoonish maxis match ones. Why is it so important, to my mind? I like things that match. Just imagine game Witcher 3 where characters and surroundings are realistic. And now imagine Minecraft where things are pixelated. Both games are great, both games have certain beautiful styles. And now imagine Geralt hunting for monsters in a pixelated Minecraft swamp. A bit strange, isn’t it? :D The same applies to Sims. If you put a super realistic skintone on your sim and put a Maxis ponytail, that would probably look strange too. If you choose this style, just try to dig for a good quality content, start following simblrs in this style. Unfortunately, I’m not an expert when it comes to realistic content. So, try to drop an ask to someone whose realistic game you like. There are so many helpful people around in the sims community no matter what style they have :)

2. Trully Maxis Match

screenshot by @whattheskell

This is a complete opposite of a realistic style. I’ve always called people who use a lot of original maxis textures “trully maxis” :D If you can decorate a house without any custom content, if you like the way original hairstyles look, if you like Maxis clothes, you should go this way. From what I’ve spot after being so many years in the sims community, “trully” maxis simblr are so creative when it comes to storytelling. The stories that they write about either their sims/or maxis premades are so breathtaking. So much drama, so much fun. The only thing that I write about my screenshots is “Ok, this is my cat! Look, it can eat flowers and puke afterwardst! Yay! Cute”. If you choose this way, I can recommend you to check out @holleyberry, @didilysims or @moocha-muses. Obviously there are a lot more blogs that I follow. These people are just so sweet and helpful and they’re first who came to my mind. 

3. Bright Maxis Matchery

screenshot by @muupi

This is where I refer myself to. This style is still Maxis but what stands out is the use of bright colours and saturated photoshopped pictures. Ah, my love for overedited pictures is endless <3 This is what I’m going to talk a lot below since it’s my cup of tea. It’s all about colours and pallete addiction. If you love looking at super bright/silly/cheery screenshots and they boost up your mood, than join the squad! 

Basically, Maxis match (I’ll just shorten for MM from now on) players avoid super shiny skins or hair textures and prefer to have content with Simlish letters instead of English ones. This is a very important factor for me when I choose paintings or prints for T-shirts. I don’t know, I feel like it’s so cute that sims can’t understand our languages, talk this funny gibberish simlish language. It’s cute! There are so so many people that I can recommend. @lina-cherie @keoni-chan @kahlenas They are first who came to my mind <3

4. Grungy/cosmic

screenshot by @lilithpleasant 

I don’t know if these are suitable words :D But this is how I describe people’s game who like aliens/supernatural sims/grungy textures with or without bright colours as well. Just think would you prefer a bit of a grungy stuff or less-textured but cleaner MM? You always need to think about textures while you download stuff. I can recommend to check out @pooklet or @furbyq-sims 

5. Semi

screenshot by @whysim 

You might ask me “Why am I not allowed to put a realistic skintone on a maxis sim? What the hell?” Of course, you are! Do it please, if you want. There are no rules, no restrictions. You CAN go semi-realistic, you CAN mix patterns, you CAN mix colours. There’s only one rule: please, enjoy what you do. Don’t be afraid to share your pictures on the Internet. There will always be people who can judje your style and say: “meh, it’s too dull, meh, it’s too bright, meh, too shiny, meh, too plain meh, meh, meh”. Just don’t pay attention and enjoy your game. As for semi-realistic I can recommend such wonderful people as @marvelann @lilith-sims @falkii @knowledgeaspiration 

A bit about my style: I’ve always loved cartoonish/bright style. I’ve never ever played with shiny textures. Before Tumblr era I just played either without CC or with a bunch of maxis recolours. How I came up with the idea of cartoonishness? Pretty simple. It’s a part of my personality, I think :) I’ve always loved Disney/Pixar movies. Cartoons just make life a lot funnier! They make me happy. I’m a pre-school teacher after all :D. You can’t imagine how many cartoons I’ve watched throughout my life. I can quote Peppa Pig and will never be tired of that :D Before Tumblr I just played some funny legacies (I’ve never finished any though :D) When I found out about Tumblr, and such great content that can make my game even more Disney looking, it just blew my mind! Every time when I download stuff, I imagine that I’m watching a Disney/Pixar or whatever studio cartoon. When I create sims, I feel like I’m a cartoon designer. Pretty silly, right? :D 

Let’s take a look at my screenshots from the past. I tried to find similar ones with a lot of greenery.

2014

2021

I stil like a lot of greenery. Editing has changed, photo angles have changed. But bright colours and Maxis stuff are forever in my heart <3

Risa (2014)

Gage (2021) 

As I’m a big cartoon addict, I love recreating game/anime/cartoon characters. No matter, if they’re my favourite or requested ones. I love when my sims have different traits. I love when they’re funny looking/clumsy/absent-minded or when they’re evil/supernatural. When they are pirates/detectives/vampires or witches. This is my way of playing Sims. I love this game as it gives us possibilities to show your creativity, a chance to recreate our favourite characters. A chance to be a writer of storylines or if you’re bad at telling stories, just being “a cartoon designer” like me :)

STEP 2 Colour palettes

If you’ve chosen the path of “bright maxis matchery” than colour palettes are super important! Oh, you can’t imagine how addicted I am to certain colours. I can download GBs because of it.

Here are some of my favourite colour palettes:

1. Anna’s colours

My absolutely favourite palette. I would download absolutely anything in these pretty colours. Just looking at them makes me so cozy *0* There’s a photoshop action for those who want to recolour CC in this palette.

2. Poppet’s colours

I especially like the latest one. So pretty! @poppet-sims is the queen of lovely recolours. She has some more palettes. But “Back to Basics is my favourite”

3. Eversims colours

@eversims has got a lot of pretty colour palettes. But the most iconic one is Ever So Lovely

So, these are the basic colours that I like downloading furniture/clothes with. 

There are a couple more pretty palettes that I like:

Huning’s Pony Colours

Back in the days it was my ultimate favourite one. But these days I edit my pictures in Photoshop excessively and prefer calmer colours and add bright layers in photoshop instead.

Nyren’s Kosmic Colours

If you’re more into pastels, than try to download some stuff in this pretty palette.

You might wonder if I use all of these colours. Of course not! I have a selection of colours that I use: apple green, sky blue, yellow, red, pink, orange, purple, teal, mint. I absolutely love combining 2 or 3 of these in my interior shots. I also love choosing my sims’ favourite colours and dressing them/decorating their bedroom in this certain colour(s).

For example, my sim Mia likes apple green/purple and mint.

I think @deedee-sims can relate. While I prefer choosing a favourite colour per sim, she chooses favourite colour for the whole family!

This is a great idea, I think! :)

STEP 4 Bodyshop stuff

Ok, I hope it’s clear that I’m colour palettes addicted, now let’s move onto actual custom content and what I prefer adding to my game. I decided to divide CC by sections. Let’s start with Bodyshop.

4.1 Skintones

Another important thing that you need to choose for yourself. There are tones ofoptions. I’m going to recommend only MM skins as obviously I have no idea which realistic or semi-realistic ones are high quality.

screenshot by @deedee-sims

If you prefer trully maxis skintones, I recommend you to try Leh’s skintones. It’s super close to original ones in terms of shades. Also look at those button noses! These cute noses is the reason why I started using this skin back in 2014. But later I switched to Lilith’s feather as I wanted more variety and those noses there got a lovely shine.

It was my default skin for a lot of years. These days I own every possible skintone by Lilith and various blends by other people.

Lilith’s Alien Flavor

Lilith’s Android Skin Edit

Lilith’s Apple Pie Skinblend v.2

Lilith’s Apple Pie Skinblend

Lilith’s Apple Pie by Kahlena

Lilith’s Feather Skinblend

Lilith’s Feather Skins 

Lilith’s Feather by Sim-Strangers

Lilith’s Feathers Colourful by Berrynooboos

Lilith’s Honey Supernatural Custom

Lilith’s Honey with freckles

Lilith’s Honey with no freckles

Lilith’s Honey Unnatural by Berrynooboos

Pixel-danger-sims pastel skins

Here’s a very handy set-up by Vimpse with Lilith’s skins being townified.

Try to choose one set of skins or download all of them by one certain creator. I need a lot of skins because I love creating tones of sims and I want to make them various looking.

4.2 Eyes

 ♦  Polaroid ♦ - my favourite

♦ Transcendental ♦

♦ Sleeping Lion ♦

♦  Sharp Eyes ♦

♦ Shallowed in the Sea ♦

♦ Hand Outs and Punch Ups ♦

These are just some of my eyes. There are some more by Poppet, by Kahlena. And I have various addons to these sets that I grabbed over and here. I remember having struggles of choosing only one set. But than I thought: why do I have to choose if I like all of them and want my sims to look as different as possible? I just love when they are cartoonish but high-quality with nice white clean sclera. Just look at Disney Rapunzel. You’ll see what I mean ^_^

There’s one little trick that most mm players do for making sims’ eyes bigger and rounder - adding a whiteline eyeliner by jesstheex. I personaly do it for every single sim of mine.

4.3 Makeup

I use tooooons of blushes, lipsticks and eyeshadows. I have everything by Lilith and Jesstheex. And lots of bits and bobs by various creators. I love using both matte or shiny textures. I sometimes add nose shine or use special nosemasks. There are various lovely things in my collection. What I can recommend you is to download a sim that you like by another creator with the help of Sims Clean Installer and just steal makeup from the sim to add to your collection *evil laughter* I recommend to do it because sometimes there are some mouth corners or various eyebags and etc which are difficult to find. It’s easier to grab them together with sims.

For example, I grabbed the shiny nosemasks from one of Lilith’s sims.

Sometimes I like adding a bit of shine on Sims’ noses. Some sims of mine don’t have shine. It really depends on a sim. But what I definitely like is cute button noses! I like using nosemasks to achieve that. I have all the masks by Lilith and these ones by kahlena.

4.4 Hair textures

Another important decision for you is the hair textures. I recommend you to choose one certain retexture. Back in the days, I used to have Remi’s textures

screenshot by @selenaq13 

I liked Remi’s ones because they were non-shiny. They had maxis colours and a really cool yellowish blonde! 

Receintly I switched to Simgarooped as I’ve always loved that there are 6 naturals. The yellowish blonde is still there! Plus my favourite Deedee-sims keeps updating every week with the retextures of new meshes <3

There are lots of various textures blends. Just search, download, play test. Think, if you’re ready to look at such type of hair hours of simming.

Also try to decide if you’d like to have more natural looking sims or go crazy and have supernatural/aliens. I used to have really bright sims with colourful skins and hairs.

Even my toddlers had unnatural hairs. It’s a lot of fun! But right now I prefer to create more natural looking sims though I like vampires/witches/aliens anyways!

screenshot by @honeylungsims 

If you would like to have colourful supernatural sims, check out Honeylung! She has the brightest and most unusual supernatural sims <3 

You’ll need a lot of face masks/bright lips/shadows. Check out @berrynooboos​ for the cutest alien CC.

4.5 Facial hair and Brows

I don’t think they should really match as long as they look great.

For example, I use eyebrows by @suratan-zir which are super cute and high quality but use Poppet’s textures instead of Simgarooped.

As for facial hair, I use some Poppet’s as well.

by Skoogy

by Poppet #1

by Poppet #2

by Simgaroop

4.6 Clothes

As I already mentioned, I love clothes in my favourite palettes. I love Simlish prints. There are so so many creators who share wonderful clothes.

I love @deedee-sims for age conversions, shoeswaps, morphs. I love @mdpthatsme for really cool 4t2 conversions. I love @moocha-muses for colourful T-shirts <3 Don’t be shy to send me a WCIF about a certain item of clothing.

STEP 5 Buy and Build

Tooons of bright recolours, IKEA items, Maxis add-ons, 3t2 and 4t2 conversions - all these things make my heart beat :D

These days I play in a rural-type world. I download a lot of craftsman-style build things, a lot of plants and garden deco.

I love bright wallpapers and greenhouses, I love clutter and kids CC for nurseries. Patterns with polka dots and plumbobs. Sunflowers and tulips. This is what I usually drop into my download folder :)

STEP 6 Taking screenshots

No matter which recolours and textures you prefer, I think high-quality pictures are important. The first thing that you need to playtest for yourself is a camera mod. It’s upo for you, but I can’t live without Gunmod’s Camera Mod. There are some more available, just check out.

Also lighting is important since Maxis original is terrible. I use Dreadpirate’s mod. 

I recommend to take screenshots in a camera man mode. Click Tab to enter it. Use W, A,S,D,E buttons to move right/left/up/down etc. And what’s important, use X and Z for zooming in and out. I always use Z for example, when I take close ups of my cats.

Don’t be afraid to experiment with angles. Try some artistic ones.

You can move your camera down and take a screen from below.

Or vice versa from above.

Sometimes I’ll just take a screen of my sims’ hands or feet. It really depends. I love spending hours on just “walking” in a camera mod around my sims houses.

Another useful feature of this mod is to use Ctrl +4,5,6,7,8,9 buttons.

These can fix the angles for you. And after fixing them, when you click on 4,5,6,7,8,9 you camera will go back to those positions. It’s very handy when you want to screen 2 sims who are talking and there’s no need to constatntly move camera from sidde to side. Just fix it and wait for them to perform cute emotions!

As a bonus, you can fic positions in the life mode too. For example, I always choose a proper angle from above where the wgole house can be seen. And wait for something cute/funny/to happen.

Also there’s such a thing as The Rule of Thirds. It’s the rule of photography composition. I always try to follow it :)

STEP 7 Photoshop Editing

I love oversaturated colours. It can be too much for someone’s eyes, but I like the brightness :) I’ll share some good Photoshop resources. Probably, one thing that I can recommend to absolutely everyone no matter how bright you want your screens to be is sharpening! Seems that Tumblr eats our picture quality for breakfast. Sims screenshots seem so blurry to me. I love sharpening them first.

I use sharpening from Kalekaloo’s action.

After sharpening I run the base from Eversims Action and then add some colour layers from Simburgerr’s one (I like gradients and fluffy lights layers especially). It makes the reds colours a little bit too saturated but I think it’s cute!

There are a some more cute actions and PSD files out there:

OhMySims - Action 1

OhMySims - Action 2

Sterina’s Action

Photoshop PSDs by Pleyita

Snapdragoned PSD

Mandragore PSD by Kiinuu

JellyBeanery’s Action

Roguebotanist

Nnilou - 12:51

A generic PSD by Knowledgeaspiration

Colorize IT by Bonnypixels

Colour Crush by Bonnypixels

Just Like Heaven by Pixeldemographics

For more tips/palettes/cute fonts I recommend you to check out @bepixeled

That’s all that came to my mind. I hope at least something was useful!

[blu-joons]

When Their Best Friend Suddenly Holds Their Hand ~ Ateez Reaction

Seonghwa:

Your eyes looked across at Seonghwa as the nominees were read out for the award. You could see how nervous Seonghwa was, leaning across to him.

Instinctively, your hand rested against his, squeezing the back of it gently. “Don’t worry,” you whispered as his head span around to look at you.

“I’m not,” he smiled, staring down at the hold you had on him, feeling a heavy breath run down his throat. “Are you nervous?”

Your head shook, squeezing his hand once again, “I know that you’ll win, so there’s no need for me to worry about anything. I’m just here to support you.”

“I’m glad I’ve got you to support me,” he responded, altering his glance so that he looked across at you, “what would I do without you supporting me?”

“I reckon you’d be just fine,” you chuckled, tapping against the back of his hand.

His head shook as the VT ended playing out all of the nominees. The two of you sat closely to each other as there was a short pause before Ateez were read out as the winners.

“I told you,” you smiled, feeling Seonghwa squeeze your hand, “I knew you’d win.”

“You must be my good luck charm.”

Hongjoong:

Your body jumped yet again as the movie played out, Hongjoong had warned you the movie had several jump scares, but you never imagined it would be this bad.

As another one came, you reached across to hold onto his hand, trying to hide your face. “I don’t like it,” you whined, turning your face away from the screen.

“Y/N,” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off the tight grip you held onto his hand. “If you’re that scared then we can just turn it off.”

Your head shook, reluctantly turning back around to watch the screen. “I’m fine, we don’t need to turn it off, I just wish you’d warned me about all the scares.”

“I didn’t think you’d be this scared,” he chuckled, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand, “none of this is real though, it’s all just a movie.”

“If I have nightmares tonight, you’re the one to blame,” you scolded.

Hongjoong chuckled, nodding his head back at you. “I’ll look after you,” he assured, “you can just sleep with your hand in mine and I’ll be able to keep you nice and safe.”

“Oh,” you muttered, as you’d realised what you’d done, “do you want me to let go?”

“No, don’t be silly, I don’t mind.”

Yunho:

Your heart broke as Yunho let go of yet another sigh as he messed up his routine. You stood up from your chair, walking over to him before he could try again.

You reached out to take a hold of his hand, stopping him from moving. “Just take a moment,” you instructed, keeping a tight hold on him.

“It’s impossible,” he whispered, glancing down to your hand in his, enjoying the warm feeling it brought. “Nothing is working.”

Your head shook, smiling widely up at him. “You’re just having a bit of a rough day. Why don’t you just come back tomorrow and do something else today?”

“What do you suggest?” He quizzed, raising a questionable glance at you. You tightened your grip on his hand and pulled him towards the studio door.

“Let’s head out somewhere, grab something to eat,” you suggested, tugging him along.

His head nodded, happily being pulled in the direction that you led him. “That might be the best idea you’ve come up with in a long time, I swear you can read my mind sometimes.”

“See,” you laughed, “I know you a lot better than you think I do.”

“Maybe you do know me well after all.”

Yeosang:

Yeosang groaned at the loud squeal you let go of as you reached the shopping centre, looking around at all the open shops you would spend the next few hours browsing.

In your sudden excitement, you held onto Yeosang’s hand to try and make him smile. “I promise, shopping with me won’t be as bad as you think it is.”

“You’ve trapped me now,” he joked, lifting your intertwined hands into the air. “I wouldn’t even be able to escape if I wanted.��

Your hip stretched across to nudge into his, “we can go to a few places for you too, but I really need to find some new outfits, and you are here to carry my bags.”

“I’m just a slave,” he clarified as your head quickly shook. “The only reason you’ve invited me here is because everyone else was too busy, or not stupid enough to say yes.”

“Stop making this sound like a chore,” you teased, squeezing tightly onto his hand.

Yeosang groaned, rolling his eyes across at you. “I know at the end of today I’m definitely going to end up agreeing to ever come shopping with you.”

“You’ll have fun,” you smiled, “time with me is never boring, I promise.”

“We’ll soon see about that.”

San:

Your stomach dropped as the rollercoaster went up, barely able to open your eyes and look down at just how high the carriage was taking the two of you.

San smiled as he glanced across at you as you reached the top. “I don’t like it,” you whined as the ride paused before tilting you closer to the drop.

“Just let yourself go,” San laughed. You reached across to hold his hand at the sound of his voice, holding onto him for dear life.

Your body tensed up as the ride finally flew, feeling San lift your connected hands into the air. “No!” You yelled, screwing your eyes tightly shut as it fell.

“You’re alright,” San chuckled, as the ride slowly came to an end, allowing your eyes to open. “Were you really that scared you had to hold onto me.”

“Well, there’s nothing else to hold onto that high up,” you groaned in response.

San frowned, keeping his hold on you as you climbed out of the carriage. “Why did you agree to go on it if you were that nervous, you should have just said no.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” you sighed, as his eyes widened at your honesty.

“You never disappoint me, ever.”

Mingi:

Your eyes lit up as the boys all ran off the stage, glancing around straight away for Mingi. As soon as he saw you, he ran down to you, pulling you into a hug.

Just as he stepped away, you grabbed onto his hand to pull him back. “You can’t walk away without letting me tell you how amazing that concert was.”

“I don’t need you to tell me we’re amazing,” he teased, nudging your hip with his free hand. “Am I not allowed to go and see anyone else now?”

Your hand quickly let go of his as he nodded down to the grip you had on him. “I don’t know what I was thinking, sorry, it just felt like the right thing to do.”

“Don’t apologise,” he joked, moving his hand to rest against your shoulder. “I’m not complaining, you just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

“I didn’t want you to walk away from me just yet,” you whispered down to the floor.

Mingi frowned, taking your hand once again. “I didn’t ask you to let go either, in fact, I want you to hold onto me for the rest of the night so I can keep you nice and close to me.”

“Seriously,” you chuckled, as he held onto you tightly, “you’re not going to let go?”

“No way, you’re staying right here with me.”

Wooyoung:

Your feet stopped as you reached the large step up to the arena. Wooyoung leapt up with ease, glancing back at you still stood in front of the hurdle.

Without thought, your hand reached out for him to take to pull you up. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to pull myself up this, give me a hand up, please.”

“Hold tightly,” Wooyoung instructed, offering his hand out for you to take, pulling you up the step with ease, catching you as you stumbled.

You smiled across at him, carrying on walking without much thought. “Steps like that aren’t built for people like me, they’re for strong people like you.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, noticing that your hand was still firmly holding onto yours. “I’ve got you up the step now though, do you still want to hold onto me.”

“Do you want me to still hold onto you?” You queried, taking him by surprise.

His head shook, squeezing your hand gently. “It’s actually not, weirdly it feels quite normal to just hold your hand,” he smiled, carrying on walking down the street with you.

“I never realised how big your hands were,” you joked, “I’ve never held it before.”

“There’s a lot that you don’t know about me.”

Jongho:

The room erupted into laughter as Jongho told the group the joke he’d been dying to share for most of the afternoon, sending everyone into fits of giggles.

You threw your head back as you felt your stomach hurt, gripping onto his hand to steady yourself. “That was such a stupid joke, it’s not even that funny.”

“Y/N,” he sniggered, noticing your hand resting over his. “If you didn’t find it that funny then why are you sitting in tears right now?”

Your head shook, barely able to look across at him as a result of the tears in your eyes. “It was just so dumb, that’s why it’s funny. I don’t even get the joke.”

“You’re impossible,” Jongho grumbled, trying to subtly move his hand away from yours, but instead you kept a strong hold around him. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you stuttered, as you suddenly realised what he was trying to do. “Sorry.”

His head shook, grabbing your hand as you tried to move it away. “It just took me by surprise, that’s all. You’ve never really held onto my hand like that before.”

“You’ve never been funny before,” you teased, “I can let go, it’s no big deal.”

“Don’t, you just do what makes you comfortable.”

---

Masterlist

[skullcandy11111198]

I keep finding more and more reasons to love Leverage every time I re-watch the series (and funny enough I keep discovering them while I’m in college)

So hear me out, after an assignment in freshmen year in a creative writing class where I used a Leverage episode as inspiration for a story, I created a kid of bet with myself that I could work a Leverage episode into at least one assignment each year, with extra points if I managed it in both semesters. Each class is new, so each time I manage to find a new episode that either made it so I knew about the topic before class, or I got to class and was like heyyyy that sounds familiar 🤔

So without further ado, here is how I either learned something new from Leverage and/or worked it into a school assignment:

Fantastic fiction class: our job was to re-work a fairytale into a story of our own making, so of course I did Scheherazade. No one else knew about it, but the second I heard the prompt I was like “oh hell yeah, I got a good one for this!!”

Japanese Literature- Mystery and Suspense: I went full out on this one!!! I compared The Rashomon Job to Akira Kurosawa’s movie Rashomon and the story it was based on, In A Grove, by Ryuonsuke Akutagawa. I did a full on in depth analysis of the similarities and contrasts and the common themes of Japanese detective fiction present in the episode. It will forever be one of the papers I am most proud of! (Also, awesome aside, we were only allowed to do a piece of media if our teacher had seen it, and she said if it was something she didn’t know, then we had to show it to her. So after class one day she and I just watched the entire episode in her office while I explained what Leverage is about. That teacher was amazing!)

I don’t remember which class it was, but there was also a time where I was able to have a full on academic discussion, bs-ing my way through it, based only on the knowledge I had watching the D. B. Cooper episode 😂

Again, don’t remember what class, but the same situation happened in relation to the Spruce Goose too. Like, someone mentioned it and I was like “oh yeah, here’s some weird obscure information I know about it!” And people were like “why do you know that??” Me: *slides further down chair* “no reason…”

The French Connection episode also led me to know wayyy more about truffles than I thought I did. To the point that I can kind of coherently explain to someone why they cost so much, why a pig is involved, and yes, they are in high demand to the point that illegal means /might/ be considered when sourcing them

The Gimme a K Street episode was really what made me respect cheerleaders. I was never in a school that had any, so all I had was the popular media depictions, but after that episode my respect for them shot through the roof

Intro to Disability Studies: I just need to get approval from the teacher, but I am probably going to try to write a paper on The Broken Wing Job and disability in media and the presence of inspiration porn and the fight between the depiction of people /with/ disabilities doing awesome things versus people doing awesome things /in spite of/ their disabilities

Sociology/Criminology classes: holy hell I was just re-watching this episode when it finally clicked!! And I was like “nooo, they didn’t…ha, they did!!!” I was watching The Experimental Job, and tell me why it only just NOW clucked that they named one of the bad guys “Zilgram” 🤦🏻‍♀️ And then the experiment Parker was a part of until she got kicked out, you know, the one with the test subjects…getting shocked…and it was the “volunteer’s” job to shock them…because the person in the white lab coat said it was okay? Yeah, THAT one. I wasn’t sure why I basically knew about that test before I took those classes, all I could think was “heyyy, that sounds familiar🤔”

Lastly, basically all of the episodes have taught me so much about like money, art, scams, what to look out for when big companies do hinky stuff, basically like a little bit of something about everything! And don’t get me started about Leverage: Redemption!! I swear all of these episodes just make it so I have a little bit of knowledge about how people are taken advantage of so when I watch an episode of Dirty Money on Netflix I already have a basic understanding of the topic! Friggin elder abuse!! I knew about it due to my Domestic Violence class but hot damn does Leverage: Redemption do it well!

Overall I just love Leverage and I have made it my personal mission to share the series with anyone and everyone I can, so have this little breakdown of how I manage to work it into my everyday life.