#I think you could do some real gender fuckery with this concept as well but I'd have to think about how
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though, lingering over that last post....I wonder how easily this trips into horror story? I mean, in this world where there are child-producing marriages and then sisterhoods/brotherhoods for the rest, this obviously allows the family to keep a stranglehold on their collective assets and wealth. Therefore, I bet that family is an even more tightly-locked cage for those born into it.
Oh, you thought that if you could just escape marriage you'd be free, didn't you? You thought you could join the local order and letter manuscripts or tend goats or say prayers over the dying---but no. No, that's for other people's sons and daughters. You have no escape. You will serve your family forever, whether you will or no. You marry who they tell you to and live in your family's third-nicest castle your whole life; you can have as many lovers and bastards as you want, you can earn coin all on your own, if you can, but it will come to naught in the end. You will be cursed with absolute surety of where you fall: res nullius.
As it was and ever shall be, amen.
#and the reverse! no longer is becoming a monk or a nun a way to try and climb the ranks of a highly stratified system#because the wealthy nobles don't dump their spares into the church and pay for them to be abbot of wherever#instead they push them into brother/sisterhoods#where they don't have to worry about losing access to those familial assets long term#the question is then - if this system is so good at keeping everyone inside it#how does it break. where does it break.#I think you could do some real gender fuckery with this concept as well but I'd have to think about how#........also we'd probably have to change some probate law around. because there's no way that your third son#should be able to bequeath YOUR castle to his illegitimate son#even if you did give it to your son and his 'brother' on their wedding day.#I'd have to get really into medieval wills though and who has the time.#(I'm avoiding work can you tell?)
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If Slashers had horny Tumblrs...
What it says on the tin! HC post for if Jason, Bubba, Brahms, & Billy (Lenz) had their own tumblrs for horny content. (18+ only)
If you like these, feel free to send a request for other characters if you want :D
Contains : adult content, discussions of kink & brief mention of sexual harassment
Jason Voorhees
Very barebones bio that gives some basic info - his age, his gender/pronouns, and a warning this blog contains adult content.
Doesn’t get updated often, and it’s usually all at night. Mostly consists of content he reblogs from different creators (artists/sex workers, etc)
Don’t expect a fancy theme or anything - he only uses his phone for horny content since he shares a computer with his sweet old boomer mom.
A good mix - largely pictures people post of themselves or art he likes. Sometimes he’s in a Mood and reblogs a bunch of very specific kinky posts - text posts with affirmations from doms, risqué art, gif sets of people in gear.
He doesn’t have a huge following or anything, just a handful of mutuals and spam bots he doesn’t clear out frequently. But when he posts anything he thinks could be too intense he makes sure to tag it with warnings, just in case.
Sometimes leaves little compliments for people - he’s usually too shy to message people directly but he’ll reblog their posts and say nice things in the tags. Nothing too forward, usually things like “you look so handsome here!”
Bubba Sawyer
Makes sure not to put any identifying info but he usually puts his age/vague age range (“in my 30s”) because people ask for that.
A collection of stuff he likes, mostly pictures or gifs or the odd video or audio post.
A lot of mostly vanilla content - again, what turns him on, what he can jerk it to easily. Stuff he can focus on when he’s really trying to get off. I feel like he’s more likely to reblog a gif set of people just going at it or pictures of a hot person in lingerie or cute undies than anything with too much of a kink/fetish focus. But not always.
I’m not sure if our Bubba can read/write very well so I can’t see him reblogging or writing long text posts, but there will be a few short ones here and there.
He’s a little too nervous to post intimate pics publicly but I can see him on a very very confident day posting pics of just his hands after seeing people talk abt how they like strong hands.
Again, doesn’t write a lot, so he doesn’t add comments to reblogs or anything
He may leave nice things in tags tho! Like Jason he sometimes leaves little compliments for people whose content he reblogs (ur dress is so pretty!). Sometimes he tags things with certain emojis that seem to have some kind of meaning… a mood he’s in… or maybe they remind him of someone he likes?
Brahms Heelshire
VERY detailed very organized pinned post with info about him including a list of his kinks, and what interactions he wants/doesn’t want. Also, places to send him tribute. Not that he needs the money, of course, but he wouldn’t mind if you got him something off his wishlist. (Wink wink nudge nudge.)
I see him as a switch who leans heavily towards submissive with a bratty streak. However people tend to assume he’s more dominant since he reblogs more dom centered text posts (he’s usually imagining he’s the sub in those scenarios).
Has a decent following since he will periodically produce a lot of original content - mostly text posts, or audio, and the occasional picture where his face is obscured and no naughty bits are showing directly. He errs on the side of caution since he doesn’t want to get struck down by the tumblr nipple police, and also because are you kidding me his family has a reputation to uphold, he can’t afford to get caught
Tumblr is his main horny platform of choice because he finds it easier to organize content he likes into an archive, and there’s more privacy. He tried making an nsfw account on other platforms before, but because of linked accounts and email fuckery he got recommended to follow a family friend and nearly shat himself. (He has a good handle on privacy and he knows that person couldn’t find him - he double checked his privacy settings after that - but it still scared him off that website, at least for that purpose.)
Because he has a decent following he also has a few mutuals he’s messaged periodically. He’s varying degrees of close - some only know him from his posts, some know his main tumblr, some may even be following him on other platforms as “long distance friends”
Every once in a while debates about having his own server for his simps followers, but he’s not sure about using his discord where he keeps in touch with friends/family for it or making a new one. You’re welcome to message him if you’re mutuals or you send him some cash first ❤️
Billy Lenz
What do you mean, “horny on main”? What, like you have an alt?
His blog is like, 98% porn but every once in a while he’ll reblog a non porn post to get into an argument.
“You sure have a lot of opinions on Canadian politics for a hentai blog 🤔”
Mostly an archive of stuff he finds hot at the time, without rhyme or reason - reblogs, links to other websites, etc. mostly chaos, but it seems like every once in a while he tries to have some kind of tagging system.
He sometimes posts original content - sometimes rambling text posts about the kind of sex he wants to have, very rarely pictures of himself. that he deletes immediately after in fear of getting flagged.
When it comes to audio posts… the Moaner lives up to his name. Although he’s not skilled with recording - clearly doing it on his phone - His audios aren’t half bad if you can find them. Usually captioned with something about how he made them or what he was thinking about when he made them.
Let’s be real, canon Billy had like no concept of consent. Or just didn’t care, because he wanted to scare and intimidate people. He’s definitely been blocked by people for sending creepy messages/asks or adding unwanted captions to their posts. When he wants to hit on someone in a way that means they may reciprocate, he’s nicer, but people are still (understandably) put off by him.
At his most polite though, he’d be the type to send an ask to someone saying he hopes they come to Toronto so that he can eat their hot pink cunt and make them cum on his thick tongue and fat, juicy cock. (This is regardless of factors like their actual location, whether or not they have a cunt, or travel guidelines due to the pandemic.)
#slasher fandom#jason voorhees#bubba sawyer#brahms heelshire#billy lenz#slasher imagines#lemon#nsft#noises from the attic#first post like this im nervous#who would u follow tho? i can see myself following brahms tbh#nasty attic originals
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Character Analysis: Mimi Tachikawa and Palmon
When I was a kid, I had some weird ideas about gender.
I fully bought into that “not like other girls” thing. I wasn’t interested in makeup, or clothes, or boys in the same way that the other girls seemed to be (HMMM). I didn’t like shopping, I didn’t care about being pretty, and I preferred being friends with the boys because they were doing fun things like playing Pokemon, and that’s for boys because the Pokemon toys are shelved in the boy’s toy aisle. When I was a kid, there were only two kinds of girls: those who conform to femininity entirely, and those who reject it entirely. In my mind, the spokesmodels for these two types of girls were Mimi and Sora.
This led to a whole Thing where I figured that femininity is terrible and weak and I shouldn’t strive to be like that at all. My friends, the Boys, don’t like feminine things or feminine people, and I wasn’t like that, I was cool, like them! I played Video Games and didn’t wear nail polish! I didn’t always want to gossip or go clothes shopping! In the cast of Digimon, I very much hated Mimi, and wanted to be Sora. I hated pink, I hated fashion, I hated her.
For the longest time, I tried to get into sports. Mostly it was soccer, because that’s what they play on Digimon! (Alright, it was because that’s what Davis plays specifically. leave me alone) And it killed me that I wasn’t good at it. I didn’t understand the rules even though when I joined up they told us they’d explain the rules and they didn’t (>:[) and I wasn’t fast at running, or competitive enough to be any good. Also I was hit by the ball a lot and developed a fear of it. It ate me up for the longest time, because if I wasn’t good at sports, I must be girly, and I can’t be that, I’m not! I play the Games and everything!
It took me a long-ass time to unlearn all that gender fuckery. I embraced being girly somewhere in the teens I think, and look what happened - I’m unathletic, I like shopping (but will only barely tolerate it if it’s clothes shopping), I’m taking more of an interest in changing my appearance, sometimes I will put on A Make-up, I fucking love pink, I’m a gossipy little bitch, and I never stopped playing video games. Hell, if you’d told me as a kid that I’d end up running a blog about video games, I’d probably ask what a blog was, but I’d be proud of that. I still am.
And rewatching this series, I’ve decided that Mimi and Palmon are my favourites from this season.
Everything that irritated me about her, back then and now, is the fault of the dub writers. Every time they wanted to fill in a dramatic silence with her complaining about missing sales or chipping a nail or ruining her complexion, every time she was silly and vapid and stereotypically girly, it was unnecessary. While the others were trying to find shelter or food, she’d say something that implied that her priorities were about her appearance, not survival. The dub writing really did her a disservice, and that’s a real shame because she’s such an interesting character. There are also a few times where Mimi or Palmon are the butt of an undignified joke, and it’s pretty cool. Not every feminine character gets that!
Was she really representative of Sincerity, or should they have left her as being Purity, like in the original? I think Purity as a concept is very different outside of Japan, so they were probably not going to be able to leave it the way it was. She seemd to be sincere in the same way that Applejack is about Honesty, in that she just has a hard time lying. Is she sincere in a positive way? Eh, sure, she’s good at apologies.
I like seeing characters who exist on a spectrum, instead of being written as a list of aspects. Mimi’s was always about her selfishness and self-preservation instincts against her opposing desire to see everyone safe and happy. She never really wants to fight, hence her splitting from the group in the last arc. Typically, her complaints that aren’t about surface-level things are about why it has to be them, why her. She doesn’t want to be saving the world, she’d just much rather have the world not need saving in the first place. In a way, you could say that her complaints about how much her feet hurt and how she was going to mess up her hair are what she chooses to focus on, rather than air out her real concerns. Plus, she does grow up at least a little during her time in the Digital World.
But occasionally, she’s a girl of Action. When she really needs to, she can be a badass, and that’s everything every girl needs to see. Stereotypically feminine and not put at odds with her competence!
(And let’s be real here for a second, if I was a Digidestined kid, I would ABSOLUTELY be Mimi. I’d complain about getting dirty, about hunger, the heat, having to fight, just the same as her. Hell, she was my avatar for the longest time because I almost physically resemble her!)
(Also because, when that shot came up, I was also playing with my hair in the exact same way. It’s a sign!)
Her relationship with Palmon is interesting. In the first episode, when the In-Training Digimon fail to take down Kuwagamon as they are, all of the Digimon are physically struggling against their partners to get back to the fight except Tanemon, and Mimi merely asks her if she feels the same as the others. Does this speak to Palmon sharing Mimi’s preference for non-violence, or did she pick up on this trait of Mimi’s this early on? In the second episode, Palmon asks...
...which, okay that’s a pretty obvious trait of Mimi’s, let’s be fair. But it does show that Palmon has been analysing Mimi at least a little.
Palmon was very often on the same wavelength as Mimi. She cried when Mimi cried. When Mimi was upset at something, no matter how small, Palmon at least looked to be sad as well, possibly just out of wanting Mimi to not be sad. The biggest rift between them was in the Princess Karaoke episode, where Palmon’s eventual disapproval of how Mimi was acting was the final straw in convincing Mimi that she was in the wrong. It took Palmon a long time to figure out that maybe, just maybe, they weren’t the good guys in this situation. The Japanese version has a throughline where Palmon tells Mimi that she hates her, tells her again in her dream, and then tells her that she loves her at the end of the episode, which is exactly what Mimi needed to hear every time. (The dub doesn’t have this, but it does have Palmon telling Mimi that she’s a spoiled brat instead, which is still pretty heckin’ harsh.)
It could have been any of the pairs in the situation of the final episode, where one doesn’t want to say goodbye so they run away, deciding to just never see them again. It could have been Kari and Gatomon, not wanting to say goodbye so soon after meeting for the first time. It could have been TK and Patamon, because they’re the Young Ones who don’t know how to face their emotions yet. It could have been Tai and Agumon, because shows like this like to have the important events happen to the front-line main characters. But it wasn’t any of them, it was Palmon who couldn’t face saying goodbye, and Mimi who nearly didn’t get a proper sendoff for closure.
Palmon and Mimi’s relationship was shown to be very strong, very trusting. For Palmon’s words to be the point where Mimi realised that she was being selfish, she must have valued Palmon’s opinion of her a lot more than she realised. She was happy enough for Joe, Tai and their partners to think that she was selfish, but Palmon was where she drew the line and snapped out of it. The fact that Mimi was inconsolable in the final episode when she (nearly) didn’t get to say goodbye just shows this further.
I think my favourite thing about Palmon is that she Digivolves into Togemon. She’s this cute little flower girl, and then she’s a fucking huge cactus who’s ready to throw down in every way imaginable and will punch a dude in the face. Also dumb plant jokes. And she’s a little bit dumb of ass, but that’s okay.
I don’t know, I just like them both. They’re also #aesthetic goals, if I’m honest. Palmon’s an adorable little fucker, I had to restrain myself from posting every Palmon face I thought was cute. I’d go ahead and say that she’s in my top 5 favourite Digimon. While Mimi’s voice acting was pretty good, Palmon’s was fantastic, and I could listen to her talk all day. She had random voice cracking moments and that one time she laughed I physically made squeeing noises. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, she is PRECIOUS.
Plus, Palmon wearing Mimi’s hat? ADORABLE. I like to think that, after the hat fell off the tram at the end, Palmon found it and kept it.
The last thing I want to say about Palmon is that is her name derived from Palm, like palm trees? Should it be pronounced that way???? They don’t in the dub, but they alsy like to pronounce “Dramon” very wrong, so maybe we shouldn’t take their word for it. Maybe it’s correct anyway, because she is, indeed, a pal.
TL;DR GIRLS GOOD
#mimi tachikawa#palmon#togemon#character analysis#digimon#digimon anime#digimon adventure#auto plays digimon#auto watches digimon adventure
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Home and a Half Pidge Headcanons
An ask I got yesterday reminded me that I never posted the HaaH headcanons for Pidge like I promised, so here they are! (I’ll answer the actual ask as soon as I can with some new material instead of headcanons I already had written... oops...)
Anyway, without further ado, some headcanons for Pidge related to my fic Home and a Half!
Pidge:
- Grew up in the picture of the nuclear family: mom, dad, two kids, dog, nice upper-middle-class house in a quiet neighborhood, dinner on the table at 7:30pm on the dot… Of all the paladins, Pidge had the most stable and “average” childhood… at least on paper.
- In reality, there is not a single person in the Holt family who isn’t eccentric as fuck. Grandma Holt? May or may not still be an active intelligence agent for MI6. The dog? Woofs in Morse code. Auntie Ariana? Has actually seen the Jersey Devil. Colleen Holt? Has killed a man. If you ask Pidge, she’ll say that her upbringing was perfectly normal and she’ll genuinely mean it, but this is a consequence Pidge having no idea what “normal” even means.
Rest under the read more to save your dash:
- Not actually a girly-girl when she was young. Although they’re eight years apart and thus unlikely to be mistaken for one another, very early on Pidge got frustrated by how similar she and Matt look, and she definitely did not want to wear his tacky hand-me-down clothes, so she pitched a royal fit and insisted on wearing dresses and hairbands so that her family would have to buy Pidge all her own things. (They probably would have bought them anyway if she’d just asked calmly, but Pidge was three at the time, and they were all very impressed by her grasp of cause and effect.)
- Of course, when Matt disappeared on the ill-fated Kerberos trip, those tacky hand-me-downs ended up being some of the most important items in Pidge’s life. Even outside of infiltrating Garrison, wearing Matt’s old clothes was one of the few comforts Pidge would allow herself—when she cut her hair and put on his baggy shirts, for a second, looking in a mirror, she could almost convince herself he was still there—
- Pidge has no intention of changing the way she dresses or styles her appearance until she’s reunited with Matt and her father. After that? Well, they may not be the coolest looking things ever, but Matt does have a point that baggy t-shirts are very comfy…
- And okay, because I’m sure everyone expected this headcanon first: Pidge and gender is a surprisingly uncomplicated subject. Side note before I go further: I’m sure everyone has their own headcanons for this and none of what I say here should be taken as rejecting or invalidating any other fan’s views on Pidge. The only thing invalid in the Voltron fandom is canon. Anyway, I personally like to imagine that Pidge is very ambivalent on gender. There is so much else going on—the war, Sam and Matt being missing, freaking giant robot space cats—that sitting down and sorting out the question of “Do I identify as male, female, nonbinary, or anything else?” is just really, really low on Pidge’s to do list. Pidge thinks of Pidge as “Pidge” and even that’s rare because Pidge doesn’t sit around thinking about herself or what other people think of her.
- In fact, what strangers think is, in general, extremely low on Pidge’s radar. Although she used to be more self-conscious due to bullying from both classmates and her teachers, the combination of her parents’ consistent support and Matt’s… extreme tactics (“I’m telling you Pigeon, nanobots in their lunches will solve all your problems.” “That’s illegal, Matt.” “Nothing is illegal until you get caught.”) Pidge (mostly) overcame the phase of being affected by other people’s opinions. Who cares what strangers think? Absolutely none of them will ever be even close to as smart and talented as her family anyway. (My IQ is three times yours, your argument about my gender is literally invalid.)
- By the way, I’m using “her” simply because that’s what I’m used to seeing in the fandom and to keep the fic and headcanons consistent, but in the functional world of HaaH, Pidge answers to any pronouns and doesn’t have a preference for any set in particular over others. In fact, Pidge is used to going by different sets of pronouns coming from different people, and might be “he” to one person, “she” to another, and “they” to yet someone else. Pidge is just… Pidge.
- Again, with the war and Voltron and missing family and literally everything else going on--and the fact Pidge is far more practical than all of the rest of her fellow Team Voltron members combined--she isn’t wasting time and energy doing something as troublesome as falling in love with an alien. (“Keith, can’t your melodrama wait until after we win the war?” “My drama waits for no man.” “Then please explain how you and Lance manage to engage in synchronized dumb-fuckery at least three times a week.”) Eventually, after life has settled down and Pidge has had some time to think about it, she’ll realize that the reason she somehow managed to avoid any romantic entanglements in space isn’t because she’s just much more mature than her teammates (although this might be true)—it’s that she’s just not really interested in romantic engagements with anybody, period.
- Pidge’s one true love is discovery; she feels far more passionate about knowledge and learning new things, encountering new puzzles, and grasping new concepts than she does about anything else. In between all her creations and codes and experiments and observations, it just doesn’t feel like there’s room—or that there needs to be room—for a romantic relationship with a real person.
- Pidge will make room for friends though, if and when they insist on worming their ways into her life. She tends to be a fairly private person who has never really had a large friend group (back on Earth, before Garrison, there wasn’t anyone but Matt and her parents who really understood her, and she didn’t have much in common to discuss with children her own age), but once someone earns Pidge’s trust, she does open up and form close bonds and she will give her all to help and be there for her few, but close, friends.
- Meeting Hunk at Garrison was a huge revelation. Up to that point in Pidge’s life she had never really met any young person outside her own family with a soaring genius-level IQ that was a match for her own. Although she and Hunk bicker frequently because their approaches to science are extremely different, she’s still over-the-moon to have someone who doesn’t stare at her like she’s talking gibberish whenever she goes off on one of her tangents.
- If you ask Pidge, she will violently swear up and down that Lance never and in. no. way. reminds her of Matt, fills in for Matt in the lame-older-brother role, or helps her miss her brother just a little bit less. That did not happen, never had a chance of happening, what are you even talking about—
- But if you ask about Shiro, she will be flat-out honest and admit she totally thinks of him as Space Dad. It’s not her fault. Shiro literally hero worships Sam Holt (still to this day!!) and may or may not have taken on more of his mentor’s mannerisms in order to fill the leadership role for Team Voltron. Sometimes Shiro will say or do something and Pidge will be absolutely dumb-struck because he got that from my dad is an actual thing she has to deal with.
- “Pidge” is actually a derivative of “Pigeon.” Everyone in the Holt family has a bird-based code name. Mr. Holt is Eagle Two.
- People often get the impression that Pidge is scatterbrained because she can talk about ten different things at once and pounces on leaps in her own logic that other people just can’t follow, but her thoughts and speech are very organized. It’s not her fault you couldn’t understand her system of organization if you tried.
- Put Pidge on the spot on a subject she doesn’t know, though, and watch the awkward jump right out. (“Oh, you meant the pop band Galileo, not the person. You know, that’s really an easy mistake to make. You can hardly blame me when you stop to consider all the similarities between modern chord progression and the trajectory of supermassive objects like—”)
- And if it’s not awkward, it’s defensive. Pidge may be hyper-intelligent, but she’s still very, very young, and it’s hard not to get snappish when challenged by people whose opinions she really does care about. She has a far quicker temper than Matt (who is a “revenge is a dish best served cold” champion), a trait she shares with their mother. Colleen, in turn, blames it on her having been born in New Jersey. Pidge has flipped so many tables on the Castleship that Coran and Lance eventually went around and bolted them all down.
- Do not even so much as hint that Sam and Matt Holt might be dead instead of just missing in space. Keith is still scared after his last attempt at reasoning with Pidge about her family’s fate.
- Has a bad hoarding habit. Back on Earth she had her parents there to insist she clean her room at least once a week, but in space, things are getting a bit crazy. The Castleship closets and cabinets can hyper-condense their contents and she’s STILL running out of room for all the neat doodads and parts and scientific wonders she finds on their adventures across the galaxy. Is definitely in the “Look, there’s still a mostly clear path to the door; it’s fineee” category. It’s not like she finds it hard to let things go once she’s gotten attached to them or anything. Nope. Definitely not.
- Pidge’s mess is absolutely of the “everything has a proper place” type though. Move anything with her name on it and you will feel her wrath.
- As the only one of the Earth paladins to have technology on her when they were unexpectedly swept off to war, everyone on the ship relies on Pidge’s laptop for their monthly dose of Earth nostalgia. Good thing for them Pidge and Matt’s pirating skills put Pirate Bay to shame, and she’s got basically every Earth movie from 1980 to the present. She even has every episode of the timeless classic F.R.I.E.N.D.S. (Keith hates that show with a burning passion that even he cannot explain.)
- Speaking of technology Pidge had on Earth—every single person in the Holt family is (and has been for decades) aware of the existence of aliens. Pidge’s family tree has been involved in communications, radio wave technology, and interpreting space observations since those fields were first invented. When Earth first identified patterns of waves that obviously corresponded to alien communications going on outside Earth’s galaxy, Pidge’s great- great- grandfather was there. When world governments covered up the discovery, he was the loudest voice of dissent. Since then, the Holt family has been deeply involved in military and space operations across several countries, operating from within an oppressive system they fundamentally disagree with, using their positions of authority to monitor the Milky Way and beyond, keeping tabs on what the aliens might be saying—and what messages Earth might be inadvertently sending back.
- Of course this is top secret work—secret even from the Garrison and government where the Holts were employed. Other kids learn how to play piano and soccer; Pidge and Matt learned how to hack virtually impenetrable military databases and hide their data behind uncrackable ciphers instead.
- But the Kerberos Mission was supposed to be safe. They’d all monitored the chatter so closely—there hadn’t been anything hostile anywhere even near Earth’s galaxy, no sign at all of any technologically advanced race like the Galra in years and nothing about one little Earth mission that would disturb any other intergalactic travelers anyway… Why would they...
- Pidge is surprisingly athletic for a self-professed nerd. With youthful energy to burn and a family to save, Pidge took to Allura and Coran’s intense Altean training like a duck to water, and while she’s not quite Shiro or Keith when it comes to hand-to-hand combat, she can definitely holds up better than Hunk or Lance.
- Favorite color is actually yellow, and if Green wasn’t totally The Coolest™ lion, she’d be sort of salty about Hunk getting the Yellow Lion instead.
- Absolutely capable of cursing up a blue storm, and hasn’t been friends with Hunk quite long enough yet to remember to censor herself around him all the time like Lance does with his “Holy crow!”s. She’s trying, dammit!
- Big on pets. Gets attached to pet-shaped creatures (whether living or robotic) very easily. 110% kept the space caterpillars, who live happily free-roaming the piles of space junk in her bedroom. The space caterpillars and the space mice do not get along, however, as the space mice do not take well to having their status as the favored fuzzy team mascot squad threatened. In their micro-Cold War, which is occurring without any of the ship’s humanoid occupants being aware, the space caterpillars are currently winning.
- The caterpillars’ names are Copernicus, Kepler, and Newton.
- Remember that one post about Lance drawing angry brows on the space caterpillar and siccing it on Keith? I very much accept that as canon. Pidge was Not Happy™ when she found out what Lance had done and she is NOT letting anyone else near her caterpillars again any time soon. Is very, very careful not to let Niresh see the space caterpillars so that they don’t end up stolen right from under her nose.
- Speaking of the kids, Pidge is super awkward with them and skedaddles at the first sign of tears. Next to Allura, there is probably not any member of the team worse suited to babysitting duty. That said, as someone who has lost members of her family in the war, Pidge is probably the member of the team who most directly understands Dulsara’s anger and the children’s loss. That doesn’t mean she’s really ready to let herself sympathize with the Galra though, at least not until she finds her own family first.
- Pulls all the most bullshit moves in Monsters and Mana. Whenever the team reminiscences on the truly legendary moments from their campaigns, somehow Pidge is the star in all of them.
And that’s all I’ve got for now!
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LGBT+ Identity in the Time of Mindless Self Indulgence
Mindless Self Indulgence isn’t an act that could have flourished at any other time. The emo/pop punk wave was gathering steam; hip hop was still a novelty one could distinguish themselves from the flock by cribbing. “Random” Invader Zim-style humor was in the decline, while “edgy” no-limits humor was skyrocketing. Nerds hadn’t become the dominant force they are today, but due to the internet and the rise in manga and anime sales in the United States, they were able to access nerdy content much more easily. Youtube was taking off, music piracy was booming, and reliance on both radio and local record-store gatekeepers was at a low for young music fans.
Perhaps most critically, our national understanding of politics and identity at the time, particularly LGBT+ identities, was in a different stage of development than it is today. “Punching up” vs. “punching down” was not a concept that most people considered in their comedy. “It’s just a joke” was more widely accepted as an excuse for transgressive entertainment than it is today. “I’m an equal opportunity hater” was a common refrain.
Early in their career, the band released multiple tracks where Jimmy Urine, a man who was certainly not black, used the n-word. The “Pantyshot” cassingle was a treasured possession among MSI fans, featuring an early song that supposedly lost them a record deal due to being about lusting over a 5 year-old. Little Jimmy Urine sold kisses for a dollar to fans after shows, including to the teenagers. As a whole, the band made punchlines of racial and sexual slurs, rape and child abuse, school shootings, prostitution, drug use, incest, and just about every other taboo under the sun.
The understanding was that none of it was real and that none of it had any real consequences. Calling someone a faggot didn’t matter if we were all in on the joke, that homophobia was stupid. Words were just words. The identity of the speaker didn’t matter so long as their ideology was clear. It was something of an inversion of the way we publicly navigate comedy now, in that their identity determines where on the ladder they are to punch up or down, and the contents of their ideology is of minimal consequence compared to the text of their words. The context of a joke is not a matter of what the audience believes, but of the many complexities of hierarchy that society as a whole believes.
“Who cares?” asks 2008. “It’s just words.”
“How could it not matter?” answers 2018. “Words create culture.”
So LGBT+ identity in the era of Mindless Self Indulgence.
Describing the difference between 2005 and 2018 to young queer people is a source of anxiety for me, because I feel like the old woman talking about how she walked uphill both ways to the library if she wanted to read a book. It’s difficult, however, to put in perspective how quickly the culture around LGBT+ identities has changed. As dangerous as it is for queer kids today, they have much freer access to information about their resources and history than we did, and far greater representation in all forms of media.
When I was a teenager, I was the first person openly LGBT at my school, and my only point of reference for LGBT identities were Rosie O’Donnell and Elton John. There was no “Born This Way” yet, no Halsey and Hayley Kiyoko and Ellen Page, no Troye Sivan and Adam Lambert and Frank Ocean, no Miley Cyrus, no Laverne Cox. There were no empowerment ballads.
Which was fine, because I didn’t want empowerment ballads anyway. I felt disgusting. In reckoning with my LGBT+ identity, I felt small, broken, repulsive, confused, discarded and doomed. I was sickened in my own skin and filled with self-loathing because of my sexual orientation. Sometimes I still am. When I was 15, I drew a map of my heart, and in between the “fields of sexual insecurity” and “possibly irreparable damage” I had written “guilt!” several times and underlined it.
“You’re beautiful” didn’t only feel false, it felt invalidating. I was fiercely defensive of my self-hatred. I was working so hard at it, spending so much time and energy convincing myself I deserved the beating I was giving myself. To this day the barriers I’ve put up against generic bromides persist, and songs like “Scars to Your Beautiful” or “Roar” make me cringe. Maybe someone gets something out of them, but I can only think of the teenagers like me who used that sort of sentiment as fuel for their own self-abuse. I remember once bursting into tears at a “Jesus Loves You” sticker because it served as proof that the whole world was playing a joke on me, telling me that someone so unlovable should have some hope.
It was impossible to internalize that queerness was not dirty, unnatural and loathsome. Any attempt to break that association was drown out by the rest of the messaging we were receiving and our own tried-and-true mental gymnastics. Reassurance could not reach us at the bottom of the well.
At the time, I was obsessed with Mindless Self Indulgence with the kind of all-consuming adoration that only teenagers can possess. I aped frontman Little Jimmy Urine’s fashion, writing slogans across my coats with white tape. “What Do They Know” and “Cocaine and Toupees” were my ringtones, much to my mother’s chagrin. I had catalogues of bootlegs, lovingly sorted and pressed to CD. Mindless Self Indulgence populated my artwork, both in classroom doodles and in art pieces for my portfolio that I labored on for weeks. They were the subject of my college application essay. I met my first love on an MSI forum (which I moderated) and lost a few romantic relationships over my inability to talk about anything else. I owned every shirt. When I was hired on at Barnes & Noble’s music section, I would nominate Frankenstein Girls Will Seem Strangely Sexy for the staff recommendation shelf every single week, and whenever it inevitably got recalled to the warehouse for lack of sales, I’d order it right back.
Sometimes my friends and I would go to the mall parking lot at night and blast Mindless Self Indulgence from my car, dancing around the empty lot with our striped stockings, fingerless gloves and Hot Topic trip pants.
This band kept me from killing myself.
“I’m filthy, disgusting, horrible, irredeemable,” we’d say. “People tell us we’re beautiful and we know they’re lying. I’m a freak.”
“Yeah, you’re fucking ugly,” the music said. “So what? So’s everything else. Have some fun with it.”
Despite the fact that Jimmy Urine has never publicly labeled himself with an LGBT identity, we young LGBT MSI fans claimed him as our own. We enshrined the article where he described being sexually attracted to anyone regardless of gender. We imitated and revered his gender fuckery onstage, the skirts, the pink suits and tutus, the eyeliner, his yelping falsetto leaping up from the masculine shouting, the way he danced. We pored over lyrics - that we transcribed ourselves in many cases, through multiple listens and endless debate - for those nuggets of same-sex attraction and gender ambiguity.
“I make a good girl but I make a terrible boy,” went one song. “These things in my pants that we’re all waiting for, I never really knew what that thing down there was used for,” went another. And the most sacred text of all was “Faggot”, off Frankenstein Girls Will Seem Strangely Sexy, the most beloved record of the vast majority of hardcore MSI fans.
“I played that shit straight / blowing suckas to the side hopin' I get laid / now everybody knows / no way in hell I can ever live it down”.
Shit was a revelation.
Kitty, the drummer of Mindless Self Indulgence, once said of the band’s LGBT fans that listening to MSI’s music was like vomiting: it hurts at the time, but then you feel better. You got it out. And the band always cultivated their relationship with their LGBT fans. Gay marriage was one of the few political issues they openly took a stance on, in a time when states like my own were amending constitutions to protect themselves from Massachusetts’ same-sex marriages.
Thus, we had a place where we felt simultaneously seen and valued by the band, and unseen amongst the chaos surrounding us. The irreverent humor of the band created a safe space where homosexuality could be disgusting, but so was everything else. There was no shame at an MSI concert. You were listening to a man famed for drinking his own urine sing about whipping his meat out, who cared if you liked to kiss girls? That’s old news. We’re all freaks down here at the bottom of the well.
I’m 28 now, and I don’t know if the kids these days have an equivalent band. I don’t know if there’s a market for it anymore; I’m sure there will always be queer kids who have internalized the awful message that they are inherently unlovable, but I’m not sure if they can’t find more accessible and more inherently positive panaceas. I see mutations of the same style of humor in Willam from RuPaul’s Drag Race and in some of the undercurrents of Tumblr’s teen humor. “We’re goblins, trash, garbage babies.”
“Yeah,” my inner child says. “I fucking feel that.”
The paradigm of humor has changed since 2008, at least in my circles, and the reasons for that are manifold, political, social, capitalistic. In many ways, it’s been a good thing: bigotry can be exposed rather than cloaked in excuses. A basic understanding of social inequality is presumed of most audiences. People are responsible for the impact of their words, not the intent. “Equal opportunity hater” is seem for what it is: intellectually lazy and blinkered, the refuge of white guys who don’t want to own up to the fact that some jokes aren’t funny.
But I’ll always have a place in my heart for comedy that meets people where they’re at. Where we’re at isn’t always beautiful or acceptable or healthy, but sometimes it’s the place where we need the laugh most.
#music#personal#lgbt stuff#humor#mindless self indulgence#jimmy urine#sorry guys i can't figure out how to text break
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Anxiety got on top of me this weekend and it was the first time in a while for me experiencing that in a public space, so there’s a few misplaced feelings of shame/embarrassment to work through rn. But I’m also really pissed.
I was out for an old pal’s birthday in the area I spent my childhood in Australia, a nice old beachside place I now try to avoid like a plague apart from seeing school friends or going for swims.
I moved at age 7 from the Philippines, where my mother’s family live in pretty harsh circumstances - and my dad, by then a self made rich man, would visit on trips away from his other family in Hong Kong. That itself was a tricky one already, especially at the time, when ideas of white-centric nuclear families with firm gendered roles was being gleefully plugged into the social consciousness. In other words, post colonial ideas ruled my world and there was a lot in mine that didn’t add up. I don’t mean to imply those attitudes are gone by any means - but the visible conversations of dissent weren’t as accessible back then and plus I was a child.
So I came to this country off the back of a kidnapping threat (I couldn’t elaborate on that if I wanted, it’s strangely murky in my parents’ stories) with all kinds of jumbled ideas about class and race to add to the prevailing shitty attitudes about class and race of the time. Mama and I were plopped in the middle of an assimilation-loving, model minority myth-believing, proudly xenophobic area with no relatives and no friends, right as Pauline Hanson’s anti Asian ship was reaching full sail. I don’t know how my mother soldiered on like she did, but she did with softness in her spine as well as steel.
My dad was determined I go to a richy poo primary school. He thought it was the best education I could get and education is access— and I guess he thought I’d be able to form relationships that could help me work for that access. Due to a class intersect and in the rosy promise of early 90s globalisation, there was actually a bit of diversity at that school - and the idea that someone could be different to you and still be a real live human being wasn’t as much of a trippy, new thing there.
But there were still external factors everywhere. I remember a few times thinking how cool it would be to switch with whoever white girl in my class - just for an hour or two. I think I wanted to see how life treated you as one of them. It didn’t help I only really saw myself represented as a sidekick or an afterthought. Insidiously, I got the idea my only role was of comedic relief or antithesis to whatever bland mashup of cultures people presumed ‘Asian’ to be. I was one of the only non white or non white passing person at my high school - def in my year, apart from another SE Asian boy (he bailed in year 10 and we weren’t friends anyway, sad); a First Nations enrolled in the year below for a few terms and left soon after.
Sidenote, my mama did a fucking brill job in never letting me believe I was less. She never slut shamed or body shamed me, though culturally, a lot of titas made a Eurovision week special out of it, espesh at the time. But I always knew there was something about me that people saw as ‘less’. It took me ages to consciously realise it was my Asianness that was the subtracting factor, the thing that took points off me for full benefit of humanness. On top of regular teenage angst and hormonal identity crises, I couldn’t make sense of a lot of this shit, or didn’t want to think about because I didn’t know how.
My early twenties was a slow process of learning and unlearning and it got me angry. Becoming conscious is a raw hot stripping back of the mental skin you spent years putting on. Nothing changes but everything changes. And there was other stuff going on that got me slipping back into old habits, not dealing with how I was feeling properly, but ofc i didn’t know that at the time. It wasn’t always bad but that’s partly why it was so confusing. Lately I’ve been feeling like a fog is being lifted and some things have happened to allow for other things to take place. Things like healing.
Anyway back to this night - what’s been on my mind is that in a way it was part of a process. Nothing really happened. There was the usual white girls going out of their way to walk in my way. One white dude said some bs then aggressively called my friend and I aggressive. Standard. Esp with this particular friend, it’s like people can’t stand to just let us live when we’re together! But nothing out of the usual fuckery happened. No one was physically hurt, which is obviously a cute positive. But it’s always so much more insidious that way isn’t it. I wasn’t born in those parts, my earliest memories are from an ocean away from there. With the exception of the few babes who saw me properly and were my friends, that place never really welcomed me. Not without a caveat, not without proving proximity to whiteness, or more to the point, separation from non whiteness. Not without the cost of the balance. Maybe that was what shook me. I’ve been in that situation so many times, that situation is my goddamn life. I’ve moved around a bit since, some time in the inner city, now in a suburb with heaps of immigrant workers & real diversity - so I don’t go back to the beaches too much anymore. Mama moved too so there’s no home there for me. But it got me that I was back in the place I’d spent time growing up in and I was finding it completely unchanged when in so many ways I saw everything differently. It wasn’t like I expected anything else but at some point, it got to me. I don’t even know what happened, one second I was all ‘leggo peeps, let’s relocate upstairs’ and next thing coming outpour of my mouth is I need to engage in a SWIFT AND TIMELY BAIL and I’m crying. I know I was tired, severely underslept and anxieties kept peaking throughout the night. So rationality is not the game and delirium is. But it was more than that too. It was the sad but inevitable confirmation that I do - not - want - any - part - of that shit any longer. Ever.
I was v v lucky to have pals there that get it. I had my lil moment and they didn’t make me try to explain or drill me about it, just were supportive babes. ILY.
There’s always the assumption you’ll get backlash, that speaking on something will just compound everything and make things worse. Even if you’re literally just responding to something right in front of you. Isn’t that just calling a cunt a cunt? I get so sick of watching the glaze or unmistakable trace defiance flash in people’s eyes at having to hear about “racism” One More Time™, not understanding that it is every millisecond of people’s realities. Not a concept or a debate, our reality. It’s not hypothetical lives being affected, it’s actual real live people. When I hear people say ‘stop talking about it’, I would fucking LOVE to. We would all love to stop having to talk about it. Do something about it on your part so we can PLOISE.
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#aliencrybby#racism#anxiety#social anxiety#woc#not your chinadoll#exhausted not exotic#wip#colonialism and race#fuck your shitty post colonial gaze#vent#daily dissent#resist! resist! resist!
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