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snarktheater · 2 years

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Ready Player Two — Chapter 22-23

Last time, I had to cut our Prince quest in half because 1) it was taking much longer than it had any right to be, especially considering how little was happening, and 2) it hit my angry queer nerd bone. So let's continue where we left off, in the dramatic chapter break cliffhanger that was…walking into a clothing store.

In there, Wade gets a beret that unlocks a special car. While they drive, Aech and Shoto argue about the lyrics of a Prince song for a whole page, and I am instantly bored again. Like, no, seriously, I'm gonna rant for a second, because it's not like I can really summarize this, so I might as well have something to say.

Look, I've harped on these books being full of references to the detriment of everything else before, but this actually takes the cake by a wide margin. I can't really pinpoint what's worse about this exactly; it's not like I haven't been through a slew of references I didn't get before in this series. I guess the best way I can put it is that it's bad in exactly the same way the rest of these books were bad, where the references pushed anything of interest out of the way, just…more. And denser. It's probably not helped by the fact that Aech is leading the charge, because while Wade withholding information from us, but knowing what he is doing is one thing, now that Wade also doesn't know what's going on, everything feels actually aimless.

This is not helped by Aech's "isn't it fucked up that Prince became homophobic, or what?" moment last chapter. What am I supposed to do with that speech when she herself still shows no actual emotion towards it?

Anyway. Aech takes them to a club to audition for a band who will help them in combat, and then, suddenly, a thing happens! I guess I just had to complain.

Namely, Sorrento shows up.

“Don’t you kids ever get tired of picking through the wreckage of a past generation’s nostalgia?” He stretched his arms out wide. “I mean, look around. The entire OASIS is like one giant graveyard, haunted by the undead pop-culture icons of a bygone era. A crazy old man’s shrine to a bunch of pointless crap.”

I probably shouldn't be surprised I agree with the villain, right? I imagine that makes some sort of sense.

Well, okay, that's not entirely true. I don't agree with him implicitly passing judgment on the value of enjoying old stuff. But I do think the OASIS is cruelly lacking in imagination and stuck in a stagnant state, and due to the book's setup, the entirety of human culture is stuck in stasis with it. And that is bad, actually.

In the midst of his evil villain speech, Sorrento taunts them about Samantha bailing on them, which means he has no idea what she's actually off doing, and that kind of diminishes the threat he poses already.

“Anorak is preoccupied at the moment, so he sent me to remind you that every move you make is being watched. Time is running out. And your deadline is nonnegotiable.” He smiled and then added, “So keep your eyes on the prize or meet your demise.” And with that, Sorrento teleported away, and his avatar vanished.

Wow. Your villain showed up, and the scene still went nowhere. That's gotta be some special dedication to doing nothing at all.

So back to Aech's plan, then, which is to recruit the Original 7ven she mentioned when she first saw the clue. Turns out they're a band, and one of the symbols on the clue is their band logo. Oh, and also the audition is actually just playing DDR. You know, that game that requires excellent coordination and also lots of practice and memorization. Yet Aech decided to spring it on them last minute. Genius plan.

“DDR!” we shouted, as we both began to dance in sync to the arrows. Aech joined us, and the three of us danced side by side, hitting our marks on the floor in perfect sync. We managed to keep it up until the very end of the song.

Of course, this being this book, it's not like there's any challenge in your challenge. I love that Wade doesn't even try to justify this one. He hasn't conveniently played tons of DDR before, let alone this specific song. He doesn't even have some kind of software or admin power that would help him. He's just that gosh darn perfect at everything this book will ever throw at him.

Who is this for, really? Who finds this satisfying to read? I sincerely need to know.

It won't surprise you to hear that yes, the band does join them in their tour bus to go battle the seven facets of Prince. Speaking of which, they finally drive to that battle. But don't worry, they'll still make another stop along the way so Aech can go into a pyramid by herself and get more loot.

“The first pendant was a golden circle, which Aech gave to me. The second was a golden horn, which she gave to Shoto. The last was a golden androgyne symbol, which Aech placed around her own neck. “All right,” she said, letting out a heavy sigh. “Now we’ve got the Three Chains of Gold too. I think we’re as ready as we’re ever going to be.”

Sweet. Whatever that means.

Okay, now to battle?

As we gazed up in wonder at the giant structure, the tour bus pulled up and parked behind us, and Morris Day and the rest of the Original 7ven emerged. None of them spoke. They all just stood there waiting and looking extremely cool. Jerome walked over to Morris and pretended to dust off each of his shoulders. The other members of the Time all wore grim expressions. They looked ready for a war.

Great, you got your dramatic posing out of the way. Now can you start banging your action figures against one another like a proper five-year-old?

“Not yet,” Aech said.

Oh for fuck's sake.

No, they have to gear up first, which will of course be described in detail.

Among other things: Wade's gonna have to play real guitar, the thing he mentioned he was learning earlier in the book. And honestly I'm so overjoyed that something was actually planted early and paid off later that I'll gloss over the fact that he is by his own admission very much a novice but will probably still do fine.

“Open up its item description,” she said. “Right now. Before we go in there, you need to memorize all of the special attack licks and power chords.”

You know, totally something that Wade is likely to be able to do at his level.

Aech actually gives some details on the different forms of Prince they might meet and the henchmen/backup bands they might have, and by that I mean she stops giving details after three, because who needs to actually strategize. No, it's far more important that Aech reiterates that it'll take a miracle for them to win. Which, given that you've established dying in the OASIS right now would land you in limbo, doesn't it sound like something you should maybe reconsider?

No? You're going to fight the boss, but in the next chapter? Okay, sure. Luckily we have time to keep going.

So the Seven Princes show up, and of course Purple Rain is the baddest of the bunch, and by that I mean he sounds like this:

“There they are!” he shouted in a voice that reverberated throughout the arena. “Those are the heretics who broke into our house, trashed our bike, and stole our spaceship! And now they dare to defile our temple grounds!”

I want to know if this is a reference to something, but I feel like the answer will be depressing either way.

What follows is best described as the approximation of an action scene. I'm shocked that stuff is happening and isn't just being droningly summarized. I mean, Wade is still completely emotionless as a narrator, but it's still some actual action. So shocked, in fact, that it took me a moment to realize that for a long time all Wade describes is each Prince's signature attack, while not really bothering to describe how our protagonists and their backup react to it.

Cloud Suit Prince was singing a song from 1984 called “I Would Die 4 U.” But he altered the lyrics of its chorus slightly, so what I heard was, “You will. Die for. Me. Yeah! That is how it’s gonna be!”

And just to be clear, it's still not devoid of all the usual trappings of being chock-full of references and questionable humor. I'm sparing you Wade briefly thinking that one of the Princes is going to attack out of his own ass.

So, after describing each of these attacks one after the other like this is a game guide, Wade finally starts dishing out some attacks of his own. By which I means he gets two hits on one of the Princes, who immediately retreats. Aech also summons the original 7ven, and then they all get attacks described in lavish detail. Then the Princes' henchmen also show up, and then Aech summons Janet Jackson and the Rhythm Nation, which is something she just…is able to do?

“Holy shit!” she said. “I can’t believe that worked!”

Me neither!

You know what's useful to have in a fight scene? Stakes. Not just so we know what the protagonist wins or loses based on the outcome of the fight, but individual, momentary stakes. What attack will deal what kind of damage, what the character can deal with and what's too much. But if the story starts pulling new rules and concepts straight out of its ass, and the current rules are so unclear that it's impossible to know what is and isn't actually bad news, then it's hard to care on what's happening in the fight.

Case in point: I most certainly do not.

And then it became an all-out sonic war. I don’t know exactly what happened next, or how it all went down.

Then again, I'm not surprised the book cares all that much, either.

So we skip to most of the adds being wiped out, as well as four of the Princes. And yes, one of those four Princes is the one who retreated after one attack by Wade. So. He sure was a threat.

Now, you might think "okay, it's now three on three but the heroes have blown through all their strongest hits, so it's going to be a challenge, just a more even one," right? That seems sensible enough. Unfortunately, this is where this duel starts.

I got off another lucky shot from the Cloud Guitar and managed to nail Third Eye Prince directly in his third eye. Apparently that was his weak spot, because he vanished in a shower of glittering purple dust. The last two incarnations gasped, and so did Aech.

Like, yes, I get it, you're setting up a dramatic reversal of fortune. Doing a thing, you know. But still. You got five of the seven down without breaking a sweat.

But speaking of the reversal. Aech warned Wade that his guitar weapon would explode, and it does after this, leaving him near death. Also, Shoto says another "blaspheme" against Prince and gets lightning bolted to death. No, really. Wade also assumes that that's because he's suffering from synaptic overload from using the ONI too long. I didn't know acting irrationally was a potential side effect of that, but here you go, I guess. RIP Shoto. Maybe.

Acting on survival instinct, I ran over to scoop [Shoto's items] up and add them to my inventory. Aech ran over to stand shoulder to shoulder with me. At some point during the melee, Mesh-Mask Prince had descended to the ground behind us.

I didn't cut anything here. We just go from a character's virtual (and potential) death, to grabbing his loot, to "some point during the melee". Why even bother coping with said apparent death, or (re)starting the fight, am I right? Let's just cut to something else.

And by "something else" I mean, of course, another reference that the book thinks counts as a set piece, as one of the Princes summons (I think?) a woman.

She was dancing and spinning in circles, with a large sword balanced on top of her head. My HUD informed me that this woman was Prince’s first wife, Mayte Garcia. […] “This is just like the music video for ‘Seven’!” [Aech] shouted.

Of course it is.

The woman then starts to sing, and the Princes are all revived to sing with her…and then they turn into the Fifth Shard. So…did we forget the part where the heroes, after the dramatic reversal, should, you know, overcome the newly renewed odds and triumph anyway? No? Random woman showing up to sing and defeat them? Okay sure.

The flashback Wade receives from this shard is from Kira's 40th birthday at a rock club. Halliday is here being a creep, and also they got Prince as a special guest for the event. And Kira's happy about that.

So, like, that would be sometime in the early 2010s, right? Is this before or after he became a Jehovah’s Witness and became homophobic? Oh, who am I kidding, they don't actually care about that.

Back to the present, and Wade doesn't bother trying to figure out what happened here. Which, on one hand, is vaguely annoying, but at least it's because he goes straight to worrying about Shoto, so I'll take the rare moment of humanity. Unfortunately, they still don't have any idea what happens to the ONI users stuck in limbo, so the scene doesn't really go anywhere. At least we learn that Shoto's wife and family are aware of his situation and are standing watch over him?

And then it's on to the next clue

Win her hand through a feat of dark renown The last two shards are set in Morgoth’s Crown

Oh. Well that's easy. Even I could probably figure it out. And it's the last two? Did you get bored with your own plot?

Wade goes straight to catastrophizing, because Morgoth is the ultimate evil in Lord of the Rings, and he's totally unbeatable and overpowered, and I'm just here like…yeah, you just said all of that about Prince, though.

I started to laugh. […] I checked my ONI usage countdown and I still had over an hour remaining, so I couldn’t be experiencing the onset of SOS. Not yet. Which meant I was just starting to lose it.

Anyway, Aech conveniently doesn't know who Morgoth is so Wade can explain it. I don't know why the book bothers having a character (who, as a gunter, probably should know this) when Wade hasn't been shy about explaining things in narration; the reader needs the info but this feels like the wrong way to go about giving it.

“Let me guess,” she said. “They’re all white, right? White Elves. White Men. And White Dwarves. I bet everyone we encounter on this Tolkien planet is gonna be white, right? Except, of course, for the bad guys! The black-skinned Orcs.” “Saruman the White was a bad guy!” I replied, losing my temper. “We don’t have time for literary criticism right now, Aech, valid though it may be! OK?”

There's something deliciously ironic about me posting this exchange, and I am enjoying it very much, thank you for asking. But also, I love that Wade's argument against Aech's very valid point is to say "well there's a white villain too". Which is a flimsy argument. But also, if you want to go there: the White part isn't because he's a white person, and also, Saruman became Of Many Colors during his switch to evil, and it's Gandalf who became the White Wizard in his stead from then on, which actually does imply the White Wizard is good and that Many Colors are bad. Which I doubt was ever meant to represent race, but if that's the reading Wade brings into, suddenly makes the whole thing look like a screed against multiculturalism.

Okay, Wade does apologize for whitesplaining, at least. And then it's off to Arda I, the planet based on the First Age of Middle Earth.

#ready player two #st: ready player two #ernest cline #book review

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normal-thoughts-official · 3 years

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Magnus as a cheerleader and quarterback Alec fucking in the locker room before or after game

ok so im not entirely sure that cheerleaders aren't just an elaborate prank the US is playing on the rest of us and i have no idea what a quarterback is other than that it probably involves doing something with a ball while playing in a team against other team, so i'm building this answer out of absolutely NOTHING but horniness. but i also don't care!!!

first of all, iconic of magnus to be a trans man cheerleader. bet that probably was like, a problem initially lmao but then there were plenty of other men (cis and trans alike) wanting to join and like. not to make this a serious AU but i could see him kinda becoming the leader of a movement for the right of men to wear tight skirts and dance around and for alec to kind of fall in love with how fierce he is u know. oh maybe he was already in it before he transitioned and then ppl wanted to kick him out? and he just said nah fuck this men in tight skirts when. and ppl were like hes got a point

also ugh he's an amazing dancer and we know it so he WOULD be good at it!! i don't think he'd take this super seriously like Hang Out With The Cheerleader Girls and make it like his personality or anything (i think if there's any stereotypical hs group magnus would belong to it would definitely be the hot nerds but realistically i think he would mingle with everyone a bit) but he likes to dance and exercise in general and competitive sports are not his thing and the whole way you have to work together as cheerleaders .... idk it's nice. plus when he got some other man/AMAB ppl in the team (?) he got some pretty nice friends. queer club babey!

and maybe that even made alec more comfortable with coming out, u know, maybe the jocks are homophobic pricks but there ARE other ppl right there he can hang out with even if he can't fucking dance for shit. all in all he gets along better with them than his teammates so who cares if they don't like him coming out? and magnus is kind of that gamechanger and plus he IS wonderful and kind and funny and ugh he's in love with him

anyway!!! nobody asked for this AU so i'll just get to the horny part. realistically i don't think they would be able to fuck in the locker room before or after the game cuz like... other people. but i DO think they've got a kink for each other's uniforms (if being a quarterback involves wearing those ridiculous shoulder pads then no it doesn't! i'm speaking this out of existence) and that they are horny bastards who would 100% sneak into the locker room after school is closed to fuck there just. because. sooooo

anyway all i'm picturing here is magnus pinned against the wall, still in his full uniform except his panties or shorts or whatever are off so he can wrap his legs around alec's waist 😌 and alec gets to fuck him in his pretty cheerleader uniform and hear his cute moans echoing all around the room

and just ugh magnus probably feels more exposed like this, you know, fully relying on alec to keep him up, legs spread, alec fucking him in his short little skirt and kissing his neck and playing with his clit and telling him how beautiful he is, how he drives alec crazy, how he loves the way magnus moans and screams when alec fucks him.....

just ugh generally 10/10 scenario but also they pavlov the shit out of this and alec ends up getting a boner every time he enters the locker room which is really not ideal. also they would make a mess so i'm imagining them just like, getting some wet paper towels and cleaning up the walls and floor afterwards and it's a very funny and unglamorous vision. but also they regret nothing and maybe make out again just a little bit because magnus is still in his little skirt and crop top after all and alec is not exactly known for his self restraint when he's around him, especially alone and with all the time in the world

#sh #shadowhunters #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #trans magnus bane #smut #trans magnus smut #malec smut #ask #anonymous

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three--rings · 3 years

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Ring's, you seem like you've lived such a cool life (admires politely from a distance) . Any other stories you're willing to share? Absolutely no pressure. Have a nice day!

Lol, you have to realize you’re saying this to someone who has spent most of the last decade bedridden. This is why I recommend taking opportunities when you’re young and able...

I don’t know that I have any particular story in mind. But I do have rambling.

So when I was a teenager I saw a movie called “Haunted Summer” which isn’t a teen slasher fic, but a movie about Percy Shelley, Mary Shelley, Byron, and others all shacked up together for the summer, which infamously gave birth to both Frankenstein and the very first vampire novel. (The movie has Eric Stoltz as Shelley, Laura Dern as Mary Shelley’s sister, and Alex Winters as Dr. Polidori. Yes the Bill and Ted guy.)

Anyway, it was pretty formative, mostly because of how queer it was (or implied it was). But also because of this one line spoken by Byron towards the end where he says “I must go wherever experience takes me.” (And then promptly leaves to go fight for Greek independance and die.)

And I took that line as something of a personal motto.

Now, it’s probably not the SAFEST motto to have. It’s one that can definitely get you into a lot of trouble. But luckily(?) I also have anxiety. So that tended to keep me pretty safe even as I tried to say “Yes” to all the things that came my way including the ones that were scary. (Also I knew I had too much of an addictive personality to get involved with drugs and that helped a LOT in keeping me alive.) (Also I think having anxiety means that everything is frankly terrifying so you might as well do the cool shit.)

So I spent my teen years doing theater and going to punk clubs, and I flew to another state alone to do archeology for a summer when I was 15 and I went to college 1500 miles from home in New York and did a BUNCH of crazy stupid shit while I was there. And tried a lot of things and yanno...mostly I made friends with a lot of people way more interesting than myself. But when I had the opportunity to, like, travel or go to a performance or participate in some event, I would tell myself “I must go where experience takes me”.

And then I went into social work and learned so much about people with very different backgrounds to me and I went into mental health crisis work and that was yet more Rapid Education. (And honestly if I COULD tell stories from All of That, those would probably be the most interesting because I Saw Some Shit, yo. But confidentiality.)

And then I got disabled and ended up becoming a semi-professional cosplayer/seamstress/blogger and went to a bunch of cons and stuff for a few years. And then I stopped doing that and started writing again. And here we are.

So have I gotten shit-faced drunk with an internationally known rock band on the beach? Yes. Have I interviewed a rock band while squatting in a back alley behind a club? Yes. Have I driven 20 hours straight across several states just to go pick up a friend? Yes. Have I camped on bare rock on top of a ridge under so many stars it was as bright as moonlight? Yes. Have I attended clothing-optional events? Yes. Have I played Strip Twister down to the skin in front of a room full of mostly strangers? Yes. Was there someone with a fucking camcorder present filming it? Also, alas, yes. Have I walked through an event being hounded by people with cameras like a fucking celebrity surrounded by paparazzi, because people want to stop me (and my friends) every few steps for photos so it takes hours to get anywhere? Yes. Have I lectured and presented and been known as an expert in my niche of costuming? Yes. Is the most interesting thing I ever do these days play dnd with a bunch of local nerds, some of them half my age? Yes.

And that’s not even getting into the NSFW ones.

But like, if I have any advice to young people, it’s Say Yes to Things. Like, there are so many opportunities you have when you’re young, like study abroad and cheap travel and volunteer trips and getting involved with performance and activities that just don’t exist as much when you’re older. And also, when you’re in the workforce after school, you can still do things even when you’re broke.

Now, at 41, with chronic pain, I have a hard time road-tripping across the country and staying in crappy hotels with a bunch of people to a room. Or having big sleepovers at friends’ places when everyone is sleeping on the floor, but I did those things in my 20s.

#asks #replies #personal #me

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merlins-hurt-comfort · 4 years

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If You’re Gonna Be The Death Of Me, That’s How I Wanna Go

Summary: Remy really goes “head empty, only Emile” in this one. He is a cocky, little flirting shit for everyone except Emile, also Emile is non-binary because I say so. I love the “it’s my fanfiction and I get to say who’s queer/dying” attitude, can you tell? Fandom: TS Sanders Sides Warnings: Swearing and food is mentioned in a pick-up line but I think that’s it, check out the tags down below Pairing: Remile Characters: Remy Sanders, Emile Picani and Logan is mentioned once as Remy’s brother Wordcount: 1790 Uploading date: 5th of june 2020

A/N: This is for @shut-up-emrys-deactivated202005 <3 I hope you like it and I hope you're having a fantastic birthday. I am so extremely glad that you're my friend. I love you. As you can see, this piece is a bit shorter than usual and I am blaming it on the fact that it’s all fluff, no angst but hey, I have three wips right now :D

One step in front of another, that's how you walk, right? There was no big deal about what Remy was going to do. He was only going to ask out his dearest friend Emile. Emphasis on the only because it was nothing big, absolutely not at all. He would do it and he would ace it and everything would be chill and he definitely had everything under control.

He walked down the hallway of his school, on his way to Emile's locker, since that's where they would most likely be.

The students seeing Remy passing by saw someone filled with confidence. Head up high, straight posture, self-assured steps and a pair of sunglasses resting on his head, not on his nose, simply because people considered it rude to wear shaded glasses in buildings.

What they didn't see were his increasingly bad shaking hands or how he started to fidget with the hem of his leather jacket. They didn't hear his heart beating way too loudly, providing him with enough adrenaline for what his brain apparently thought was a fight, flight or freeze situation, and they didn't hear his loud racing thoughts either.

They would have noticed all those signs of Remy being a disaster gay though, if they just stopped him and casually had a conversation or simply looked a little bit closer.

Remy wasn't nervous, no. He never was. He wasn't nervous before being introduced to someone new, he wasn't nervous before class presentations or even exams because he studied really hard for them and he certainly wasn't nervous now either, no.

He was just, to quote a show he had recently binge in a sleepless night: "Uncertain of how things would go and therefore deeply terrified".

There was nothing new about this. He had flirted with a lot of people on this school or in dancing clubs he sometimes liked to go, only rarely though. The point of this is- you name them and he could probably tell you the pick-up line he had used. But then again, that had all been nothing more than play pretend, all for fun and everyone knew that, no feelings were harmed.

But this, today? That was kind of actually something new after all. He was about to ask out his best friend- with all seriousness and no play pretend! He wanted to ask them on a date and go on those dates and be a cheesy couple and not only flirt for fun but flirt to tease and flirt to let everyone know they were each other's. But he had to admit, it would also be fun to flirt simply to make them blush, yea. Remy decided he'd like that.

He walked a little faster before his brain could chose the flight over fight or freeze and he'd chicken out again, like he did the week before. That did sound good, though, he would just turn around in his path and maybe he could try it again another time when he was less... deeply terrified and-

"Remy!" Too late. Emile was putting some stuff in their locker and they hadn't actually seen Remy but noticed their best friend's presence anyways.

"What are-" They stretched to get a book from the top compartment of their with cartoon stickers decorated locker, "Could you help me out?" Remy handed the smaller friend what they couldn't reach.

"Thanks." Emile closed their locker and faced Remy. "So. What are you doing here? I do love your company but aren't all your classes today at the other side of the building? Speaking of your classes, did you get your test back? You told me you had to study a lot and after what you told me about it I am sure you did great and-."

"Yea, I- uhhh." If Remy hadn't interrupted Emile's flow, they would have continued for the rest of the break. Not that Remy was complaining, he loved to hear them talk, he could listen to their voice forever. He wanted to fall asleep and wake up to it.

"I wanted to ask you something." Remy scratched their neck and stared at Emile's locker. To look his friend in their pretty, chocolate brown eyes would only throw him off his game, even though it looked like he was already losing. Why was this so much harder than usually?

"Remy, are you alright? Did you get enough sleep last night?" Emile's hand waved in his unfocused vision.

The taller student blinked a few times to see Emile stepping a little closer, their head tilted to the side and an eyebrow slightly raised in equal worry and curiosity.

To look at their friend was a mistake, his heart could not stop pounding, he just wanted to hold them and hug their hidden worries away and everything sad they didn't deserve that would consume them in the middle of night when they texted Remy out of seemingly nowhere. Of course, Remy was always awake to text them back. But wouldn't it be better to be there for them in person?

Emile was still looking at him like Remy was a ghost or another supernatural being. He got lost in his thoughts again, didn't he? Time to say something! He tried to make his mouth work.

"Sure, sure. Uhhh, I'm good, I'm chill." He crossed his arms and actually intended to lean back real smooth and casually, but he had miscalculated the space between himself and the lockers and almost slipped, almost. But hey, his sunglasses fell down on his nose so this not impressive, far from flirting (yet) situation brought something good, at least now Emile couldn't see where Remy was looking. He smirked, to play it off.

"Something is up with you, you're acting strange." Emile, too, crossed their arms and for a quick second Remy remembered that he once read online that if you cross your arms and the other person trusts you, they will copy it, consciously or not. His heart warmed even more, it was all fuzzy and he sighed. He was sure this blood pumping organ was going to melt, he already felt warm in the leather jacket and Emile being this adorable without even trying did not help at all, believe it or not. How was he supposed to flirt with them, he was a mess. "Come on," he thought "Make it quick like ripping off a bandaid."

Remy took a deep, shaking breath. Now or never. The longer he waited the harder it would get. "I wanted to ask you if you want to do something with me this evening.... Or not today if that's not good with you, tomorrow or the weekend would also be fine, but only like... if you want to and also have the time and-."

"We do a lot of things together why is asking that big of an act for you?"

Well, then he'd have to do it blunter. Oh, this was so stupid but the only pick-up line his mind could give him at the moment. "You like raisins, don't you? How do you feel about-"

Emile's eyes lit up as they realised what their best friend was trying to do and they completed his pick-up line way more seductive than Remy could have ever dreamed of doing it himself. They smirked and lowered their voice. "-a date?"

Remy didn't even have to see that smile to know it was there. He could see it in Emile's eyes. His friend always showed their emotions way more through their eyes than anything else and those eyes looked mischievous as hell. But he made the mistake to look at the smile anyways, he was weak after all. Weak for Emile. "Are you asking me out?"

Fuck, the cat's out of the bag. "Well," Remy cleared his throat. "I am trying to but you're just too... uhhh."

"I am too what? Throwing you off your rhythm, huh?" Emile let out a short laugh and Remy was sure that this was straight up bullying. What else could it be? He felt the heat rising in his cheeks. Was he blushing, oh fuck, he was blushing, wasn't he? Full on blushing. But hey, in his defence, he could not help himself, not even a little bit, when Emile was being so- not to say attractive but that's exactly what they were. "Yea, that's precisely what you're doing."

"What?" Even though Emile hadn't seem to expect that answer, it didn't throw them off their game at all, which was quite frankly just rude. How could they be so calm, so collected, while Remy was a blushing, melting disaster? Emile then had the audacity to correct their pastel blue tie. Emile really liked wearing ties and as one knows, ties and suits and dresses and fancy clothing in general make one look ten times better than usual. Did they even know what that quick movement did to Remy? Maybe they did not- but then again- yea, no. Remy was sure Emile did that on purpose and was completely aware of how handsome they were and how many butterflies they just put in his stomach. Butterflies in the stomach, feeling nervous in all the right ways. Or as his brother would say "A phrase that is commonly used to indicate the feeling of clenched anticipation for something desired one feels deep in one's gut". Yea, Logan was a nerd.

Remy found his voice again, it was nowhere nearly as sassy, confident and loud as usually. "So, will you go on a date with me?"

"If that means I get to make you blush more, always." So much to the thought of Remy making Emile flustered, seemed like it backfired. They put their backpack over one shoulder. "Fantastic, see you this evening. I'll text you."

They put Remy's hands in theirs and softly squished them before turning around and leaving Remy right where he had stood all the time. His pulse seemed to get slower again, he had done it. Well, he shot his shot and it halfway worked before Emile took over. Now they would have dates together and they could do everything Remy not only dreamed of at night but intentionally thought of when he daydreamed and-

Oh no. Oh fuck, no. Now he would never escape being flustered and blushing, wasn't he? He let out a long sigh, it felt good to get actual air in his lungs since he hadn't properly breathed for the whole break.

He had a feeling the butterflies would stay. "If Emile's gonna be the death of me," he thought as he made his way to his next class, his hands still slightly shaking. "Then that's how I wanna go."

#sanders sides fanfiction #ts #thomas sanders #remile #emile picani #cartoon therapy #ts sleep #ts ships #remy sleep sanders #logan logic sanders #highschool au #alternate universe #non-binary emile #also yes that title is a very obvious panic! at the disco reference #tw swearing #tw food mention #the next short story will be loceit with logan angst :D #and yes i did quote matthew from big mouth #remy really says head empty only emile and i respect that

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cayenne-twilight · 4 years

Note

A fic about Uncle Randall interacting with Flora and/or Kat and Alfendi?

Flora peered dreamily out the car window, as she usually did when she could actually convince the Professor to take her places. Three days ago she organized a persuasive presentation proving that she was responsible and capable enough to accompany him on his trip to the city of Monte D’Or. It took informative posters on an easel and ten minutes worth of speaking, but soon enough Flora was packing her bags. Of course, by the Professor’s earnest recommendation, she regretfully pruned her luggage down to one suitcase and one duffel bag. Packing lightly may be befitting of a gentleman, Professor, but not a lady. Am I supposed to wear the same outfit in the morning AND the evening?

She watched the view transition from the metropolis near the airport to rusty desert. Apparently one of the Professor’s secondary school friends built the city, and the rest of their clique lived there as well. He always associated with the most curious people. Flora couldn’t help but imagine what the Professor must have been like as a teenager. Was he already obsessed with being the perfect gentleman, or did he act a tad immature at times like Luke did? Was he in the robotics club like she was now? And what sort of friends did he spend time with? She heard him mention some names over the phone with Emmy, but what were they like? She imagined a bunch of history nerds discussing the Azran over tea. Did they all wear top hats as well? Flora suppressed a giggle at the mental image.

“This is no Laytonmobile, but it has been keeping up just fine,” Layton said. The rental car was a much more modern model than his beloved little Citroen. With its neutral paint job and contemporary luxury features, the Professor almost seemed out of his element driving it. Flora would never say it out loud, but she preferred this car to his usual rickety ride, although she could admit it had its own brand of charm.

“So you’re visiting your old friend to share your findings on the Azran?” Flora asked, hoping to get more out of him than the last two times she asked this question.

“In part. Ever since- well. For the past few years my good friend Randall has had an aversion to the Azran despite his interest in the civilization in our youth. Recently, though, the spark seems to have reignited. I’m bringing over the thesis I published as well as Desmond’s, who turned down the invitation to come here seeing as his relationship with Randall is rocky. (I believe I will force them to reconcile one of these days.) The timing of it all is really quite queer now that neither Desmond nor I want anything to do with Azran research.”

“Wow. It took you two whole years to get your paper published and you aren’t even interested in the topic anymore?” Flora couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be so spontaneous. If she were to write an entire academic thesis, it would be on a topic she would never get tired of learning more about.

The Professor said nothing. He just drove on along the dusty road until Monte D’Or was visible in the distance like an island surrounded by all this empty sand. As they pulled closer Flora marveled at the flamboyant hotels and casinos. Up until recently she felt like a tourist in her own city, but this was the real deal.

Flora sat on a couch in the Reunion Inn lobby while the Professor checked in and arranged for their luggage to be brought up. She could hardly call this an inn. The establishment Beatrice ran was an inn. This place was massive enough to house all the residents of her little village.

“Now that that’s settled, my dear, let’s head down to the Ledore mansion to say hello. I’ll introduce you to my old friends.”

Flora nearly fell over because of the way she was trying to absorb every detail of her surroundings. She heard there was supposed to be an absolutely darling parade on this street at night, and she asked if they planned on watching it.

“Ah, I remember the parade from the last time I visited. They run it once a week, but it feels awfully special when you’re a tourist. Of course we’ll see it,” Layton said.

He rang the doorbell to the mansion, and a woman with blonde hair done up in curls answered, “Hershel!”

“It’s good to see you, Angela. Have you three been well?”

“Yes, of course. And you must be Miss Flora,” she said, extending a hand. Flora shook it. “I’ll call Randall and get Henry to set the kettle for tea. Make yourselves at home.”

The Professor took a seat on the expansive couch, sorting through the folder he brought along, while Flora examined a curio cabinet set into the wall. Randall must collect these pieces of archeological memorabilia, all sorts of carved pots and ancient coins and whatnot. She remembered talking to Luke’s father about how there was more of this stuff out there than one might think, hence how much of the museum’s collection was archived.

“HERSHEL!” a man with slicked back red hair and glasses entered with his arms outstretched. The Professor turned his hug into a handshake.

“I must admit, I missed this Randall,” the Professor said.

“And which one might that be?”

“The one that would rather excavate cities than bury them-“

“Oh bug off, Hersh.” Randall turned to Flora. “You must be the girl from the robot town.”

“Um. Yes I suppose that is me.”

“I’d love to visit one day. How do they work? I hear they’re indistinguishable from humans! Are they modeled after the ancient golems?”

“Leave her be, Randall. So what have you been up to these days? Not farming, I presume.”

“No, not quite,” he laughed. “That’s just the thing. Angela and Henry have the mayoral duties covered, and I don’t think they would want me to intervene anyways. And I’d make an awful stay at home husband.”

“He would,” Angela and Henry said in unison. Henry carried a platter with tea to the coffee table and poured five cups.

“You haven’t done the one thing I asked you to do today,” Henry said.

Randall stared blankly. “And what might that have been?” He smiled like a child caught in a lie.

Angela facepalmed. “Do you even enter the kitchen? The sink is piled up with dishes. I hate to grill you in front of guests, but if you won’t help out around the house in the slightest, you better get a full time job.”

“Yes, about that. I was thinking of curating the Monte D’Or museum. We have an impressive painting gallery, but I think it could do with a more historical exhibit. The city itself is quite new, but the area is rich in Azran history.”

“Well I think that’s a splendid idea,” Layton said. I do hope my research will be of help to you.”

Layton left with Angela and Henry to their office where they showed him the building plans for a new designer brand shopping mall. Randall remained on the couch, essays in hand, until his attention span promptly gave out ten seconds later. He looked to Flora, who was inspecting a still life on the wall.

“You haven’t even touched your tea yet,” He said.

“Ah. I didn’t realize Henry brought some for me too.”

“How’s Hersh been as a dad?”

Flora looked a bit startled. “A dad? Gee, I don’t know if that’s quite right. He’s more like a foster parent, really. I’m not sure how much you heard about his trip to my village, but when he arrived to solve a treasure hunt he wasn’t expecting to bring me home instead.”

“I did hear about the hunt your father arranged. I’m sorry for your loss, by the way.”

“It's been sort of a long time, but thank you.”

Randall’s eyebrows arched since Layton told him the Baron was recently departed. He didn’t pry in fear of touching on a sore subject. “Have you been liking the city life more so than the village?”

“I’m glad the Professor lives on a relatively quiet street, and I do like secondary school more than reading textbooks on my own. Quite frankly, it’s been hard for me to adjust to social situations, but I like working with my classmates more than studying alone.”

“And I gather you’ll be going to college not too far from now. Do you know what you’re going to take in uni? Not to alarm you, I’m sure you get asked that a lot these days.”

“That’s tricky. I was thinking maybe software engineering? Or robotics. Or perhaps criminology as well? I’d like to take some sort of design course if there’s room in my schedule, but at this rate there might not be.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough. You know, I don’t believe I actually ever finished my compulsory education because I fell into that chasm. No matter, trade skills served me well enough.”

“You what?”

“Look, it’s already gotten dark out. We should leave right about now if you want to catch the parade.”

Flora, Randall, Layton, Angela, and Henry left the mansion and made their way to the crowded sidewalk of the boulevard where many visitors awaited the procession. The sound of brass instruments pealed from the distance, followed by the drumming and jangling of marching band music. Flora clasped her hands and leaned forward, trying to gauge where the start of the parade was.

Squadrons of dancers and acrobats dressed up as suits of cards waltzed around the pavement, doing flips and spinning batons. The crowd cheered as they quickly assembled into a human pyramid and gracefully collapsed like dominoes. The marching band followed, and Flora had to cover her ears when they were right in front of them. Four floats rode by, driven by characters resembling the jacks, queens, and kings of each suit. They waved and popped confetti at the viewers. Finally, the giant clown balloon glided forward, attached to an equally large float. It looked like a tiered cake, with dancers standing on each level moving in perfect unison.

“You know, the performers on the clown float are all animatronics,” Randall yelled over the blaring band.

“For real?” Flora responded. “But they’re moving so naturally! It’s hard to believe they’re not human!”

“You’re one to doubt it, having grown up with robots. The float is actually an optical illusion in a sense. In reality, dancers on the top are a lot larger than the ones on the bottom, and same with the height of the platforms, but because of our perspective they look the same.”

“Really?” Flora shouted. “That’s so cool! Can I get a closer look at them another time?”

“Of course!” Randall yelled back. “I can take you to the garage tomorrow.”

The eardrum-shattering upbeat music faded, and the crowd began to disperse.

“Did the parade meet your expectations, my dear? Layton asked.

“I believe it surpassed them!” Flora responded.

They parted ways with Randall, Angela, and Henry and headed back to the Reunion Inn for the night.

“You told me you and Randall used to be best friends, but you drifted apart.”

“Yes, that is true. Why do you bring that up?”

“Well I think you should mend that friendship. He seems like a swell guy after all.”

Layton smiled. “Is that so? In any case, you are correct. I should make an effort to reconnect with him. Maybe I should challenge him to a sparring match like those from our youth. He was awfully quick, but now that he’s rusty I bet I stand a good chance.”

“Randall fences?”

“Yes. In fact he’s the one who got me interested in the sport myself. He also sparked my interest in archeology.”

“Wow. I didn’t realize the impression he made on you was so big.”

“That’s not all, he also introduced me to the world of puzzles.”

“RANDALL is the one who got you hooked on puzzles?!” Flora exclaimed. She should be trying to make friends like these in secondary school herself. Even if it’s just through impact on one’s character, friends really had the potential to last forever, huh.

@101flavoursofweird

#randall ascot #flora reinhold #hershel layton #angela ledore #henry ledore #professor layton #professor layton fanfiction #CT writes #professor layton fanfic #layton fic #long post #omg this is so much longer than advertised #sorry to everyone who sees this and is too lazy to read it lol #it’s dumb that you cant put a read more on mobile #anyways sorry this took so long #I wrote it in like three sittings wheras the previous fic only took one #sorry for no kat/al ‘cause I wanted to write Flora’s first time meeting these three #this fic is blatant dalston erasure and thus sucks #thank you for requesting!

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atomicwedgienerd · 5 years

Text

Boyfriend Twins No Longer

Derek was furious. Last night had been his 21st birthday and what should have been a blast had been ruined by all the jerks at that gay bar. “Boyfriend twins!” The taunt rung through his mind. Nobody had ever made fun of him and Arjun before! They didn’t even look that similar. After all, Derek might be tan but he could never be compared to Arjun. Sure they had both been wearing Abercrombie shirts and khakis in nearly the same hue, but lots of people dressed like that! And besides, Derek though their matching sneakers were cute. And yet, when they walked into that one queer bar in town, the hipsters all turned to them and immediately started laughing. The door guy asked if they were clones and the bartender asked if there was a 2-for-1 special at the Abercrombie shop. Like they were so cool just because they had piercings and tattoos! That didn’t make them unique! There were plenty of hipster “boyfriend twins” in that bar and nobody gave them any guff! Regardless, Derek couldn’t stop fixating on it. He hated being criticized by other gays after a lifetime of being mocked by straight people for being different. He glanced over at Arjun as he snoozed, admiring his butt in the matching pair of Andrew Christian briefs that they had actually bought in a 2-for-1 sale. Well damn, thought Derek, maybe we are a little similar. “Are you ok, hun?” Arjun asked, stirring from his sleep. Derek sighed and turned away. “You can’t be upset about the boyfriend twins thing, can you?” Derek harumphed and turned to his lover, unaware that the mystical forces that grant birthday wishes had decided to pay attention to Derek this year. “I just wish we weren’t so similar!” Derek said angrily. A lighting bolt cracked across the sky, scaring both of the boyfriends. “You’re being dramatic,” Arjun sighed as he got up from the bed. “Let me make you some coffee and we can do something fun for your birthday. Arjun headed out to the kitchen, his ass looking great in the jockstrap he was wearing. Wait, that wasn’t right, thought Derek. They had the same pair of underpants! “Arjun!” Derek cried. “What’s up with that jockstrap!?” “Uh duh, it’s what I always wear, bro,” Arjun yelled back from the kitchen. That didn’t seem right to Derek. He looked down at his own lap and noticed that he was now wearing a pair of plain Hanes tighty-whiteys. That definitely wasn’t right. He sat up and leaned over the edge of the bed but something else was wrong. His feet didn’t reach the floor anymore. Derek panicked and stood up. He looked in the mirror and something was off. Where they had both been a solid 5’11” before, Derek couldn’t be more than 5’8” now and he was looking leaner than usual. There was something weird going on with his hair but Derek couldn’t really discern it in the mirror. He grabbed his pair of thick black framed glasses from the end table and threw them on. His hair was paler, more red, than before and seemed to be stuck in a weird center part. This was not the haircut he had gotten a week ago. And wait a minute! Derek didn’t need glasses! He threw them off and the world turned into a total blur. Derek started to panic, breathing heavily and starting to hyperventilate. Arjun reentered the room, or at least Derek thought the blurry shape was Arjun—it seemed taller—and handed Derek a glass of skim milk. “What’s this?” Derek whined, his voice noticeably higher pitched. “Where is my coffee?” “You can’t drink coffee, bro,” Arjun laughed, his voice noticeably deeper. “You’re spastic enough as it is.” Arjun took a deep sip of his coffee. “Give me a sip of your coffee then!” Derek whined. Arjun laughed. “You need to put on your glasses dude.” Derek did as he was told and was shocked as the world came into focus. The Arjun in front of him was different. He was taller for one, at least 6’2” now, and substantially more muscular than he had been before. Whereas Arjun had always been clean shaven, he was now sporting a decent five o’clock shadow. Derek rubbed his face; it was now smooth where before he had been sporting the beginnings of a beard. And then Derek noticed Arjun wasn’t drinking coffee at all. He had a protein shake. “Something isn’t right!” Derek wheezed. Arjun rolled his eyes and handed him an inhaler. “You need to calm down bro. And use your inhaler. You know you’re not supposed to get excited. It’s time for us to get dressed and head to campus anyways.” “But it’s my birthday!” Derek complained, taking three short puffs of the inhaler. “So who cares!?” Arjun laughed. “Get out of my room and go get dressed!” Arjun’s room!? But they had shared a room for six months. Regardless, Derek felt too timid to argue and he shuffled meekly out of the room. Derek headed down the hallway and then noticed his backpack peeking out from their study. He opened the door and was shocked at what he saw. It wasn’t a study any more. It had turned into a bedroom. In the center was a twin sized bed with Pokemon sheets. The walls were decorated with anime posters and cardboard cut outs of Lord of the Rings figures. There was an entire shelf of trophies from Math League, Chess Club, the 24-Hour Coding Challenge, Klingon Karaoke. Whoever had this room was a total dork! And that’s when Derek saw it. A framed picture on the wall of a total dork with Patrick Stewart at a comic convention. The guy looked familiar even though he was wearing thick glasses and the nerdiest clothes Derek had ever seen. He looked closer and gasped. It was HIM. But this wasn’t right! This room belonged to a total dork and Derek wasn’t a geek! He barely even used his computer. And yet this room had a massive desk with multiple computers on them, running World of Warcraft! Derek looked at the picture again and shook his head. This couldn’t be right. He would never dress like this! And yet when Derek opened the closet. all the clothes matched those in the pictures. Plaid button downs, cheap pleated dress slacks, shiny leather shoes. None of it seemed right. “Hurry the fuck up and get dressed!” Arjun yelled from out in the hall. Derek had never heard him yell like that before. That wasn’t the Arjun he knew but something made Derek quiver. He did not want to make Arjun mad! He sighed and started getting dressed. He buttoned up the button down all the way to the top and felt compelled to add a too short black tie. He put on a pair of clashing brown slacks that stopped a couple of inches above his ankle and couldn’t stop himself from attaching a pair of red suspenders that yanked the waist of the pants up above his belly button. All of Derek’s socks were white crew socks now and they clashed with his black patent leather shoes but he could hear Arjun getting impatient so he threw them on in resignation. He was scared to make Arjun mad; something he had never felt before. He looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. He looked like a total dork! He had definitely shrunk too! There was no way he was over 5’2” now. “HURRY UP DWEEB!” Arjun boomed from the living room. Derek grabbed his backpack and meekly shuffled out, his confidence totally eradicated. He gasped when he saw his boyfriend. Arjun towered over him now, standing at a solid 6’6”. Where he had been slightly muscled before, he was now a total meathead, weighing in at 300 lbs of pure muscle. The five o’clock shadow he had moments before was now a beard of epic proportion that came down to mid chest and his hair was up in an unruly and super masculine bun. Arjun’s muscles were massive… unlike anything Derek had ever seen and they were on full display as Arjun was now wearing a muscle tank that said “Give Me Deadlifts or Give Me Death” on it. On his legs, he wore tight black sweats that showed off every bit of muscle in his thighs and his massive calved. His arms were now dotted with tattoos and an 8 gauge septum piercing adorned his nose while double zero gauges rested comfortably in his ears. “S-s-s-since when do you l-l-l-lift weights?” Derek said, now aware that he stuttered. “S-s-s-s-since fucking forever, braceface,” Arjun laughed. Braceface? Why would Arjun call him that? But Derek reached up and touched his mouth and knew the answer. Huge clunky orthodontics were now glued to his teeth and when he caught his reflection in the mirror, he sighed. “You sh-sh-shouldn’t talk to your own boyfriend like that,” Derek implored. This sent Arjun into a series of hearty chortles. “Boyfriend!?” he laughed. “I would never date a dweeb like you, fuckwad. The only reason we live together is that the college said I needed to get my grades up if I wanted to stay on the weightlifting team and well, you’re too much of a fucking pussy to stand up to me when I ask you to do my homework.” Derek tried to argue but found himself getting too nervous. I guess I am too much of a pussy, he thought. “You’re right, Arjun,” Derek complied. Arjun rolled his eyes. “How many times have I told you? It’s AJ, not Arjun. Only my mom calls me Arjun. Now let’s get going.” Arjun grabbed Derek by the waist of his tighty whiteys, effortlessly lifting him up in a painful wedgie and carried him out the door. As they walked to campus, Derek felt all eyes on them. People were swooning over Arjun—er—AJ and pointing and laughing at Derek the whole way. He couldn’t stand it! AJ and Derek couldn’t be more different. That’s when it hit Derek. The wish. HE HAD WISHED FOR THIS. “Th-th-this isn’t what I wanted,” Derek said meekly as they arrived on campus. “Well I didn’t want to have to spend time with the university’s least attractive virgin but here we are,” AJ said as he dumped a bunch of books in Derek’s hands. “I’m going to need all these papers written by Monday so I can stay on the team.” “B-b-b-but-“ “No buts, dork!” AJ yelled as he shoved him towards the library. Derek looked at AJ with tears in his eyes. They had been so close, so in love, and now this was their life. More muscular hunks walked up to AJ as they started heading off to the gym. Derek turned meekly and started shuffling towards the library, his spindly legs giving him an awkward gait. “Hey nerd!” AJ yelled after Derek. “You forgot your student ID!” He flung it at Derek and it hit him right in the forehead, causing a chorus of laughs from AJ’s weightlifting bros. Derek struggled to pick it up from the ground without dropping all his books and gasped at his ID. For a brief moment, it listed the correct information: “Derek Parker, English Comp” before shimmering for a moment and changing. Derek blinked his eyes and looked at it again through this thick coke-bottle glasses. “Derwin Pimpleberg, Computer Science,” he sighed. Derek—make that Derwin—had totally changed, and all because of this stupid birthday wish. He headed into the library wanting to cry. Luckily, Derwin found academic achievement easy, which was great because soon AJ was making him do not only his homework, but also all of AJ’s weightlifting bros’ homework. AJ and his boys would come around on Saturdays and get wasted before heading out leaving Derwin alone to play World of Warcraft all weekend. While AJ would bring home a different stud every night to fuck, Derwin was alone reading fantasy novels and writing World of Warcraft fanfiction. And the noise from AJ’s heavy fucking made Derwin sad. Before the change, Derek and Arjun had had plenty of sex, but Derwin—well that was a different story. He was a virgin and try as he might over the next few decades, no one ever wanted to have sex with him and he remained a virgin forever. Eventually, the now roommates graduated but AJ didn’t want to let Derwin go. Why would he? Derwin was too meek to fight with AJ and would clean up after him, make his protein shakes, and wash his dirty gym clothes for him. Besides, whereas AJ’s degree was useless, Derwin’s computer science degree was a cash cow and Derwin was making tons of money consulting. Of course, AJ had made Derwin sign over all of his bank accounts to him so AJ could focus on professional body building instead of working, meaning that Derwin still had to wear cheap dorky clothes and couldn’t really afford to go out, not that he had any friends he needed to see. A few year later, Derwin had to go to his high school reunion and AJ decided to tag along. All of Derek’s friends were shocked to see that their old buddy was now a total nerd stereotype that went by Derwin but they were all enamored with AJ and joined in on mocking, ridiculing, and beating up Derwin. As his former friends hoisted him up the flagpole so he had to just dangle there in an atomic wedgie, Derwin sighed. He had wished that he and AJ were different and well, it couldn't have come any more true.

#nerdification #nerdtf #gaytf #m2mtf

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transastronautistic · 5 years

Note

I'm not sure if you picked your name or not, but do you have any advice for choosing one? I've been having trouble with picking one

ooooh yeah anon, i picked the name Avery for myself :D besides saying things like “don’t worry if it takes you several times to get your name right, don’t worry about what others think if you change a few times” and “try some names out online / with folks you can trust and see what sounds right” and “it’s okay if a name doesn’t feel quite right immediately; it can take a little while to get used to even if it’s the name you want,” the only advice i have for you is Nerdy Advice:

to pick my name, i looked through a site with a list of gender neutral names and i started out with a list of like 12 i thought i might like. i looked up the meanings of each of those names, got rid of like half of them because the meanings weren’t ones i felt fit me even a little bit. then i thought about things like

“will people spell this wrong constantly?” that was a thing that happened endlessly with my legal name and i was tired of it haha

“does it go well with my full name?” that’s not a huge deal really; most things “go well” with any middle and last name combo and it’s just a matter of getting used to it, but i did wanna make sure i didn’t end up with awkward initials

“does it Sounds Pretty?” i’m a big Sound person when it comes to poetry -- one of my fave poets is Aflred Tennyson and he’s the king of getting things to sound nice, doesn’t even matter what the poem is about he knows how to pick words that sound like the thing he’s discussing -- if he’s writing about a river it’ll sound like a river, ya know? so anyway yeah name Sound was even more important than name meaning to me

“does it connect to someone / something i care about?” i’m super sentimental, so picking a name that made me feel connected to one of my passions interested me. this last point is what my name choice came down to in the end:

i was between Avery, Adrian, and one other name that i’m totally blanking on right now? i went with Avery because it’s linked to the name Alfred! Avery comes from the Old French way of saying the English name Alfred; both names mean something like “elf counsel” or “elf power.” aaaaand as i mentioned a second ago, Alfred Tennyson is one of my favorite poets!!

i did a whole project on Tennyson in college, he’s one of the poets i had a special interest in for a while, and gosh personality-wise he is my fave poet. allow me a quick tangential info-dump:

he was super timid -- so much so that in Cambridge he was gonna read a thing about ghosts at the Cool Kids Club he was in but read it so quietly no one could hear him

also once he became a Famous Poet he was taking a walk on his Fancy Lordy lands and he saw in the distance what he thought was a crowd of adoring fans approaching to get his autograph and he ran away because Eek Socializing and it turned out it was just a flock of sheep he just had bad eyesite lmaooooo

he was In Love with one of the other students in his Cool Kids Club named Arthur Henry Hallam who was the Coolest of the Cool Kids, all their classmates were like “yeah Hallam is the man. he’s gonna be the most famous dude of all of us”

and Arthur and Alfred were so cute together they like. went on a top secret agent mission yes, an actual real-life spy mission together that i sorta forget the details of because what are politics but i remember it involved crossing some mountains and messages in invisible ink; these dweebs thought they were james bond or those Totally Spies gals or something

but then Arthur died super suddenly at like 22 (okay i just cheated and looked it up i was gonna say 24 what are numbers but wow. 22. that’s so young this poor baby) and Alfred was so heartbroken he wrote a big ol’ collection of poems over the course of quite a few years called in memoriam about Arthur and it’s beautiful and tragic and sweet and very very gay

“BUT NO!” cries my university professor, summoned to this post by my even breathing a word of Alfred Tennyson’s Gayness (Bi-ness more likely) “they were not homosexual together they were homosocial” -- yes professor, i know i know, your favorite Academia Term no-homo-social yes of course

“no homo” tennyson wept while writing about how his grief for arthur is like the grief of a widow for her husband; “no homo” he murmured as he worried about whether Arthur would Move On Without Him in heaven since he made it to the afterlife so much sooner than Alfred; “no homo” he signed the letters to Arthur that his son -- named Hallam!!! -- would burn after Alfred’s death so the world wouldn’t be able to read whatever totally-not-gay stuff was written in them

anyway anyway tennyson also was probably nonbinary/trans in some way, my best guess is bigender, and you can pry THAT theory from my queer dead hands, Professor Homosocial -- 1) he wrote so many poems from women’s point of view; 2) i know i once read a quote from him about how he believes poets must be both masculine and feminine in spirit in order to be good at their craft, i can never find this quote but i know. i. read. it.

um. whoops. i’m sorry anon. uh.

anyway yes, i chose Avery out of the rest of the names i looked at because of its connection to a poet i love! if there are historical figures, or mythical/religious figures, or fictional characters you really like, and you’re a big ol’ nerd like me, why not name yourself after them? you can go for subtle like i did and pick a name related to that person instead of being the exact same name, if you want.

i hope this helped, though probably it didn’t...sorry for the Alfred spam but! he’s cute!! and a good poet!!!

#chatting tag #Anonymous

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phoenixyfriend · 6 years

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Got into a conversation about High School AU Lotor in the Lotor discord. It started off with me talking about an AU based on the Bring It On musical where Lotor was Campbell and Romelle was Eva but anyway it evolved from there and the only actual thing that remained the same was Lotor being a cheerleader, possibly captain of the squad. Below are some ramblings (all from me and @myhyperfixations) on the subject of Lotor in a high school AU:

Lotor is one of those kids that's good at Basically Everything but nobody likes him because they think he's full of himself, or betraying them by associating with a different clique.

The jocks think he's too short and skinny to be as good as he is, and too Classy Dressed, and too queer.

The theater kids think he talks down to them.

The physics and robotics clubs are resentful because Lotor couldn't join in on competitions since he'd previously agreed to do the musical and some sportsball games.

The lit club is okay with him for the most part, but the debate club hates him and loves him at the same time.

Lotor does everything and has zero free time and has all of four friends.

(His friends are the Gals and they’re the art club.)

(And all five of them are queer as hell.)

Or it could be an AU where Lotor and Allura are childhood friends because Alfor and Honerva used to work together, in which case Lotor has FIVE friends, and those five are consistently going "stop this, you're going to Literally Die Of Exhaustion."

Lotor's just... very insistent on being good at everything to prove his parents wrong and also maybe take down his dad.

But also, specifically, when people try to punch Lotor?

He catches their fist in one hand and Glares Them Down.

He did martial arts for years before hitting high school and toning it down a little for other clubs.

Lotor is Classy Goth and that's another point on the Weirdness Meter. Like, everyone wants him involved because he's GOOD at what he does but nobody wants to... actually be friends because he's Weird As Shit to them.

He's just so many things at once and it makes people all ????? Because he's the ultimate Goth/Prep/Nerd/Jock combo and people just??? don't understand??? how can he master the four elements like that??

By not sleeping, mostly.

Lotor's going to have a full scholarship to Harvard, so help him.

(Because it's not like he can count on his parents for any sort of support, so if he wants to go he needs a full scholarship.)

I also got prompted to go into either Ryotor or Shotor with this (because the Lotor discord knows where I’m happiest), and:

I like football captain Shiro BUT I don't like erasing his disability and IDK how forgiving the football team would be of a prosthesis that isn't as magically uber-functional as the ones he has in canon. Track might be better, except track wouldn't explain his upper body build.

We eventually decided that Shiro is the soccer captain.

Ryou, on the other hand.

I want Ryou to be a Bad Boy

Like, not legitimately bad.

But he dresses like a punk and really loves his car.

He’s the “bad boy” punk that does things like rescue kittens from trees.

High-key, he knows how to pick locks and hotwire cars (and maybe helped Keith learn a few tricks).

Also please just imagine punk Ryou leaning in to flirt with Classy Goth Lotor (while Varsity Jock Shiro and Valedictorian Allura watch on in interest, because Shiro wants his twin to be happy, and Allura is childhood friends with Lotor and is a wee bit tired of hearing him talk about not having a datemate).

(Allura isn't valedictorian YET.)

(She's two years behind them.)

(But everyone kinda... expects.)

We also need to consider the very nice mental image of Ryou leaning against a motorcycle.

He maybe he suggests taking Lotor for a little joy ride.

And he's totally not doing this to go a little faster cause it makes Lotor hold on tighter, nope, nuh uh.

And then... I was going to say Milkshakes but that's the wrong ship.

Fruity ice pops, maybe.

And Lotor gets Very Distracted by the way Ryou eats his.

Ryou notices and probably does something even more suggestive than whatever he was doing but acts nonchalant.

Final note:

Ryou absolutely does Kabedon to Lotor.

Lotor goes red.

#Voltron #Prince Lotor #Lotor #High School AU #Kuron Shirogane #Kuron #Ryou Shirogane #Takashi Shirogane #Galra Gals #Princess Allura #Modern AU #Ryotor #Loturon #arguably #Shotor #since people often conflate the two #Phoenix Babbles

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mmymoon · 6 years

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So there’s a goth meme from several years past that @spookyloop revived, so why not.

Intro:

Name? Mmy

Star sign? Capricorn

Height? 180 cm/5′ 9′’

Nationality? American

Things you post? Aesthetic things, memes, and rambling responses to friends, I think. I would probably just be an aesthetic blog if my personality didn’t ruin it, ohohohoho...

Favourite artists/bands? Goth/darkwave bands...? Ego Likeness and Hannah Fury are my favorite ones both musically and as people. I’m a club organizer type of person so the fact I like listening to All Your Favorite Club Hits On Endless Repeat after twenty-odd years helps. I just did an all-female-fronted (and largely all female musician) set recently that I was proud of. Army of Lovers probably says the most about me as a person. Oh, and Marina and the Diamonds.

Favourite movies/TV shows? Right now, Grey’s Anatomy, Queer Eye, and the modern sitcom renaissance that’s happening because I love sitcoms. Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries. Twin Peaks forever. (Black Mirror for an edgyyyy answer; I wanted to like the Philip K. Dick one but the bad false eyelashes on all the lead females was so distracting I couldn’t focus, costuming matterrrrs and overly long eyelashes are going to look like overly big shoulderpads in ten years) In terms of movies, I like both hardcore surrealism (Solaris, Boxing Helena) and fun cheesy things (Zoolander, Muppet Treasure Island) and action movies as a genre (Fury Road was great!). I had a lot of film classes in undergrad, plus we have the Library of Congress’ film campus and get to watch a lot of interesting silent, so it really depends on the genre and mood.

Follower count? I think over 600 woooooo big monsters, big prizes

Simple Questions:

What is your favorite candle scent? LED, I wish they’d make some Alexa compatible ones so I could live out my Phantom of the Opera sewer decor fantasies

Do you have a favorite book? Alice Walker’s entire body of work. (The Last Unicorn for the nerd stuff, although reading a lot of Piers Anthony and Pratchett growing up probably says more about me as a person. Read a lot of Erma Bombeck, too, come to think of it. Sure, I read and enjoyed all that Russian literature as a moody teen, but I also liked ALL THE JOKES. Which is why I like Philip K. Dick, although the comedy is never preserved in film adaptation and I can whine about it like the critical snob I truly am.)

Are you a tea or coffee person? Yes, keep it coming. I am pan-beverage and constantly need to hydrate and and require at least two drinks on my person at all times.

What is your favorite brand and color of lipstick? Beauty Bakerie whatever the dark purple is, although I’m getting into the Sephora brand “lip stain” (actually longwear) wines and dark purples which I think are just numbers. Shout out to the NYX “Transylvania” and Max Factor “Frivolous” I used to wear for their good names.

What is your favorite perfume/cologne? Pure rose absolute, which, judging by everyone’s reaction, makes me smell like a Riyoko Ikeda illustration. (I’m allergic to most commercial scents, but rose absolute does not fail me!)

Do you have a celebrity crush? Usually the perky girl character, Leisha Hailey (OG teenage crush just got better through the years), Jameela Jamil, probably a bunch of people I can’t think of right now

If you had to give up the color black, what color would you choose instead? Leopard print and hot pink

If you could change your name to a stereotypical 90s/2000s gothy name, what would it be? I grew up in a hippie area so I know far too many kids legitimately named a lot of those things. I always liked the names Violent and Prudence, though, if I was going to do a fake name.

What are your top three tips for surviving hot weather while black clad? Just wear natural fibers, you’ll be fine and your skin will thank you anyway. I’m already drinking two drinks anyway, so.

What song will always make you happy (doesn’t have to be a goth band)? Bjork - All Is Full of Love

Are you active in the arts (ex. Play an instrument, paint, write, etc)? I GUESS

If you had a teacup or mug made inscribed just for you, what would you have it say? I have a wholesale account for those black rose ones! I like plain black cauldron mugs the best for real usage and solid black china teacups with floral interior prints.

What is your number one non-gothy hobby? Subculture has taught me that the Venn Diagrams of hobbies overlap too much for this to be a real question. GARDENING IS FULL OF GOTHS. DOLLS ARE FULL OF GOTHS. PLENTY OF GOTHS ALSO LIKE READING ABOUT RANDOM LEGAL AND TAX CODES.

Thought Provokers:

If you could be a supernatural creature, what would it be and why? Maenad, the literal party bully

What horror monster-based super power would you have? Maenads have a pretty definited skillset, but like... I feel like most horror monsters have fairly broad ill-defined ones. Seems like John Carpenter’s The Thing is kind of overpowered.

Do you feel confident or comfortable interacting with other Goths or gothy people (online or irl)? Why or why not? HELLO NEW PEOPLE, YOU LOOK VAGUELY AWKWARD SO MIGHT NEED TO BE FRIENDS WITH US; COME TO ALL MY FRIENDS’ EVENTS IF MY FRIENDS’ EVENTS ARE NOT LOCAL TO YOU I CAN HELP YOU FIND OUT WHICH CLUBS ARE CONVENTIONS ARE AND MIGHT INTEREST YOU SO ANYWAY LET ME INTRODUCE YOU TO SOME PEOPLE

Which is more important for a look: Great hair or great makeup? Probably make-up, but overall effect is always most important in truly great aesthetic~

Is there something you wish there was more of in your subculture? Accountability, although I’m proud of those of us who are always working on that. (The secret matriarchy is watching.)

Care to share an embarrassing story related to your “darkliness“? No one told me I was Far Too Tall to be wearing Lip Service miniskirts

How are you at DIY? aaaaaaaaaaaahahahahahahahahahahah; let me tell you about various epoxies

Quickly describe your ideal wedding. One where I am not expected to attend, or barring that, they have an open bar and friends with quick wits and quiet voices.

Confessional (aka True or False):

I love watching cheesy romance films. Eh -- I love cheesy COMEDIES, so there’s some overlap, but eh.

I ALWAYS remember to wash off my makeup at night VERY TRUE. I always wash my face, comb out my hair, brush my teeth, and moisturize. EVERY NIGHT. NO MATTER HOW LATE IT IS AND EXHAUSTED I AM.

I sleep with plushies. True, if I haven’t kicked them off of the bed by accident.

I wear non-black pajamas most nights. False, I don’t own anything that isn’t black. (Night-time is for novelty tee shirts and threadbare Old Navy Halloween prints, or else long flowy black night-dresses.)

I still listen to a boy band that had disbanded years ago. Sure, I listen to [insert name of some synthpop band as a joke]

I think Andrew Eldritch is overrated. False, I feel like he gets rated pretty fairly.

I don’t like vampires. False. I mean, I find other aspects of folklore more interesting academically, but I feel like vampire aesthetic is pretty crucial to gothdom in general. Also, there’s some great chronic illness metaphor in there.

I don’t like clubs. THE MOST FALSE STATEMENT EVER TO APPLY TO MY PERSON -- ALSO HELLO WOULD YOU LIKE TO COME TO AN EVENT? Y’ALL NEED REAL LIFE FRIENDS AND I CAN HELP MAKE THAT HAPPEN FOR YOU, LET ME JUST GOOGLE YOUR AREA AND CONTACT THE ELDERS TO LOOK AFTER YOU--

I’m dating a goth/darkly-inclined person. I think I talk about death and various cool diseases/medical problems too much for non-goths (taking a broad view and including lolitas and broader subcultural people). It privately irritates me when people put a burden of expecting women to content themselves with inferior aesthetics while everyone wants a “goth gf” or whatnot. (Yes, rarely it’s vice versa, but the societal burden of beautywork, even subcultural, is on women.)

I don’t enjoy graveyards. False! I love them.

Blood makes me queasy. False, high risk behaviour and bad financial decisions are pretty much the only things that make me queasy (also allergens).

I’d sooner faint than pet a spider. False, done that a bunch. I’m not afraid of any creatures that aren’t poisonous or infectious really. (Bats are amazing and beautiful but pretty likely to be rabies carriers, so goths should not pet them. I used to preserve dead ones I found and that was a Bad Idea, but such is the folly of youth.)

I don’t like haunted houses. Eh -- I mean, it’s a gig. I don’t get off on the occult to the extent a lot of goths do, but I suppose it depends on if one means Haunted Houses (the theatrical experience) or haunted houses (the overwrought local ghost stories experience).

I still browse Hot Topic’s clearance racks. True; I hadn’t been to one in years but my friend and I just went and I totally did, although I remain Entirely Too Tall For Those Miniskirts. But I got my first Demonias from HT clearance, precious memories.

I’ve never read Dracula. False.

I think “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” is a long and boring song. False! Blasphemy!

#goth tag #gothgoth #whatever this is #I am both a huge cliche and also really obnoxiously brash for a goth #but some of it is really organizer kindred #to the manner/manor born #also a favorite television series but very long ago

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niigoki · 7 years

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TWICE title: we’re a mess (let’s finish what we started) pairing: NaMo, MiMo, Saida, JeongMi, 2yeon, Chaeyu read on Ao3!

So it starts like this: five years ago they all became friends, and then they realized that the reason they were so close to each other was not just because of their undying love for music, anime, and extremely terrible TV series, but also— girls.

They do say queer kids tend to gravitate towards each other.

High school sucked – especially for the younger ones who had to watch their older friends graduate first – and puberty was a bitch. There were feelings involved. Sana tripped on an ice cream cone and broke her wrist.

Then they all entered college.

Now they were all adults. Personalities changed, they met new people, someone dyed their hair, some tried to pretend they were cooler now (spoiler alert: they weren’t). Despite being involved in different things, the nine of them were still as close as ever. No one else truly knew them as deeply as each other, anyway.

And, well, the feelings involved never stopped being a thing. If anything, things just got more complicated. They just learned how to deal with it better.

Some of them, anyway.

Then Sana tripped again.

“Are you going to Nayeon’s party, please say yes.” Sana pretty much flung herself on her seat to catch Momo before she left her class to go to another.

“You mean the Drama Club party where everyone who’s someone is going to be at?” Momo finished tucking her notebooks inside her bag and finally looked at Sana. “No. Why?”

“What? Why?” She was pouting now and Momo rolled her eyes.

“Too many people I don’t want to see.”

“But Mina will be there.”

“I know,” Momo flicked a finger on Sana’s forehead and smirked down at her. “She told me. We have calculus together.”

Sana whined, rubbing the sore spot. “I’m having trouble understanding why you’re not going if both Mina and Nayeon are going to be there.”

That was a really good argument, but Momo was too tired for drama – both literally and figuratively. It’s not that she hated the Drama Club – also known as the people who had stolen Nayeon from the group (from her) – it’s just that she wasn’t particularly interested in the snobby, hypocrite, know-it-all theater students that were absolutely convinced that they were going to get an Oscar as soon as they graduated.

She had tried getting along with them – Nayeon had pretty much dragged Momo backstage to meet everyone at the end of her first performance – but those people seemed more interested in sucking up to Nayeon’s ego than making Momo feel comfortable.

The Drama Club was obsessed with Im Nayeon, which was… well, understandable. Confidence and self-esteem leaked through Nayeon’s every pore, and she fed off compliments. Her acting skills were no joke either, and she sang like an angel. Musical theater was everything she had ever wanted, and everyone knew that. Getting into the club was the best thing that could’ve possibly happened in Nayeon’s college life, and Momo was happy for her, they all were. Nayeon had become a little bit more insufferable, but at the end of the day, she was still a closet nerd who had every Sailor Moon season hidden inside her dorm closet.

Momo just missed hanging out with her on a daily basis, that was all.

Okay, maybe she was jealous of the Drama Club. Big deal.

As for Mina…

“I’m just not in the mood, Sana.” Momo walked off waving a weak goodbye, and Sana sighed.

“I’ll tell Mina you bailed on her!” She yelled in a last attempt to make Momo stay, but Momo just flipped her off with a laugh.

Fine. Sana got up, off to find her next target.

The art studio was a quiet, calm place, intended for soul-searching and inspiration. It was almost always filled with students who shared the same space, but didn’t interact with each other. It was kind of like a library, but with a lot more naked people and paint.

Son Chaeyoung pretty much lived there.

Her afternoon class had been canceled, so she headed down to the studio to get a head start on her art project; honestly, just an excuse for her to spend some time there. There was something appealing about the characteristic silence of the room. She used to go there at lunch time, too, mostly to get inspiration for a few of her poems and short stories. Her friends were starting to think she had an obsession, but she reassured them that it was simply her will to learn.

And also to run away from people. Anxiety and all that jazz.

Chaeyoung was almost done with her lineart when she saw the door moving from the corner of her eye. She tried to ignore it, focusing back on the canvas, but then a bubbly girl full of personality and a broken wrist started – quite literally – bouncing towards her. Chaeyoung didn’t bat an eye.

Sana approached her from behind and stood there, hands behind her back.

She stood there for five whole minutes in silence.

Chaeyoung finally sighed loudly, putting her pencil down. “What is it.”

“Chaengie, you’re so good at what you do. Has anyone ever told you that?” Sana bent over as she complimented the tiny artist, her breath warm against Chaeyoung’s ear.

“Yes. A lot in fact. Especially when they want something from me.”

Sana giggled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Come to Nayeon’s party with me.”

Chaeyoung frowned and finally turned to her. “Did you hit your head when you broke your wrist?”

Sana kneeled and Chaeyoung panicked, looking around. There were three other students in the studio and they all seemed to stare at them at that moment, which didn’t exactly do wonders for Chaeyoung’s social anxiety. “Get up, what are you doing?” She half-whispered, half-yelled.

“Son Chaeyoung. You’re my best friend. My partner in crime. My one and only.” Sana held her hand as she said that and Chaeyoung wanted to die.

“First of all, bullshit. Momo and Mina are your best friends,” She retreated her hand, blushing nervously. “Second, get up you absolute loser, you’re embarrassing me!”

“Not until you agree to come party with me.”

"I don’t do parties, Sana.” She turned her back on her dumb friend, focusing again on her project. “You know that.”

Sana got up and hugged her from behind, earning a grunt from Chaeyoung. It was really hard being around her sometimes, but what could she do? Sana was pretty much the heart of their group; her energy was enviable, and no one could hate her even if they tried. “Just this once, please, Chaengie! It’s going to be full of artists, just like you!”

“The Drama Club is full of actors, not artists. There is a big difference.”

“But—”

“This is about Dahyun, isn’t it?” Sana froze and Chaeyoung rolled her eyes. Jackpot. “I swear, you’re hopeless.”

“It’s not like that…” Sana tried to laugh it off, but she knew it wasn’t going to cut it. Besides Mina and Momo, there were two more people who knew about her… convoluted feelings for Dahyun, Chaeyoung being one of them. She’d always had a good intuition for her age.

“She’s going to be there and you don’t want to be at this party alone with her,” Chaeyoung continued. “And you already asked Momo, but she refused. So now you came to me. Is that it?”

“Have you been stalking me, missy?”

“You’re just too easy to read,” Chaeyoung giggled, Sana’s arms now loose around her. “And Dahyun is incredibly dense, that’s the only reason you’ve been missing each other for so long. It’s like you two live in a bad drama, or something.”

The older girl moaned, letting her go. “I don’t want to talk about that. Will you really not come?”

The way she pleaded was so pitiful, and Chaeyoung really wanted to help her out, but she was physically incapable of attending a party full of strangers. She hated crowds, and she knew that Sana was going to make friends fairly quickly in there. “I’m sorry. You know I can’t.”

They stared at each other for a while, then Sana smiled sweetly at her. “I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to force you.” She reached out and ruffled Chaeyoung’s hair. “Guess I’ll have to try Plan C.”

“Good luck.” Chaeyoung smiled back. She really loved Sana despite everything.

“I meant it, by the way.” Sana said, already walking away. “You’re a really great artist. Proud of you!”

She left then and Chaeyoung felt happy and warm. Her friends were hopeless when it came to their crushes.

Not like she was any different. Maybe she should call that person.

Entering the basketball court was always intimidating for some reason. Probably because the place was filled with tall, buffy athletes of all genders who were pretty much the campus’ rock stars. Everyone wanted to date an athlete in college. That was just a fact, even in art school. Sports might not be the strongest point of that particular university, but it was appreciated nonetheless.

The distinct sounds of sneakers sliding through the well-polished floor hit Sana’s ears as she walked into the gym, and she smiled at the smell of sweat and rubber balls. It brought back funny memories, like the one and only time she tried being athletic and, well, broke her wrist again. It was always her wrist for some reason; that was becoming a habit.

Sana immediately spotted the person she was looking for and waved at her. “Jeongyeon!”

The short-haired girl paused her hoops and waved back. “Yo, Sana-ya! Be there in a sec.”

Sana nodded and sat down at the bleachers, waiting for her training to be over. It didn’t take long, and soon Jeongyeon was making her way to her with a towel around her shoulders and a bottle of water in one hand.

“If I wasn’t painfully aware of your personality I’d probably faint right now,” Sana teased as Jeongyeon sat next to her. “Yoo Jeongyeon, all sweaty and messy, making her way towards me in slow motion like a dream…”

“Oh my God, shut up.” Jeongyeon pushed her with her shoulder and Sana laughed loudly. “You say that as if people didn’t want your naked body all the time, too.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sana crossed her legs, grabbing the bottle from Jeongyeon’s hand.

“Right. How many people did you kiss and never texted back last semester, again?”

“You make me sound like a slut.”

“We accept the titles we think we deserve.” Jeongyeon might be an athlete at heart, but her soul still belonged to the Fine Arts. Sana didn’t know a single person who had watched more movies than her, and their friends always asked her for recommendations based on their moods. Jeongyeon had the most sacred pen-drive in the whole campus, too, making her known not only for her basketball skills, but also for the pirated movie library she carried around in her pocket.

Really, everyone wanted a piece of Jeongyeon for lots of different reasons.

“So, what’s up?”

“Well…” Sana paused for a second, thinking about the best way to go about this. “As you know, our talented friend Im Nayeon has been having a few problems lately.”

“She has?” Jeongyeon’s features became serious, the playful aura vanishing into thin air. It was always like this when it came to Nayeon.

“Oh, she didn’t tell you?” Sana placed her bandaged hand on her friend’s thigh. “She probably didn’t want to worry you…”

“What happened?”

“Well, you see…” Sana looked down, bangs falling on her eyes. “She’s feeling isolated lately. It’s like the people from the Drama Club found a new toy to play with, and discarded her.”

Jeongyeon raised an eyebrow, skeptically. “That doesn’t sound like something they would do.”

“Oh, but they did! Nayeon told me off-handedly in a conversation yesterday.” She forced her eyes to become watery. “She made it seem like it was a joke, but I could feel the call for help in her voice.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So, then I remembered!” Sana shifted closer to her. “There is a party going on tonight. A Drama Club party. And Nayeon is going to be there, of course.”

“Hm.”

“And can you imagine leaving her all alone with a bunch of people who are surely going to ignore her and make her feel terrible about herself? So, as her faithful friends, I thought that we should attend—”

“You want to drag me to the Drama Club party.”

“Oh, I’m so glad Nayeon can count on you!” Sana threw her arms around Jeongyeon’s shoulders and the athlete just sighed, pushing her away.

“Not happening.”

“What!” Sana moved back, in shock. “Why not??”

“I actually have a test tomorrow that I have to study for,” Jeongyeon smirked, getting up. “And it’s not even an excuse. I’d tell you if it was because I hate those drama kids anyway.”

“Oh, come on, not you too.” She got up as well, latching herself to Jeongyeon’s arm. “Your roommate brainwashed you!”

“Momo didn’t brainwash anyone, I hated them way before she did.”

“So it was you who brainwashed her! How dare you, you know how easily influenceable she is.”

The two girls made their way out of the gym slowly, Jeongyeon shooting toothy grins and waves to some of her female fans on her way out, and Sana was still talking her ear off and trying to convince her. The athlete pretended to listen, but her mind was made about the issue.

The reason she didn’t get along with the theater students was pretty much the same as Momo’s – they had stolen Nayeon from the group. And it was fine, Nayeon was her own person anyway, it’s not like she belonged to anyone in the first place, but Jeongyeon had every right to not want to get near them for as long as she could manage. There was no way in hell she was going to attend a party filled with drama rats.

“Sana, can’t you ask someone else?” Jeongyeon interrupted her friend’s monologue when they reached the locker room, wriggling her arm away from her grasp. “You have a lot of friends who are probably going, don’t you?”

“I do, but… I want to go with you guys.” They both knew what she meant by that – the original nine. “And Momo is not going, neither is Chaeyoung, Tzuyu is sick…”

“Mina?”

Sana bit her lip, crossing her arms. “She’s going, but… it’s complicated.”

Jeongyeon hummed at this. “Interesting.”

“What does that mean?”

“Mina doesn’t like to party much, that’s all.” She then frowned. “Wait, are you guys fighting?”

“What makes you say that?”

“The fact that Mina is going and Momo isn’t. And you clearly wanting to avoid Mina at that party.”

She wasn’t exactly wrong, but there was no way Sana could explain what was going on. It was too tiring and too complex; she didn’t even understand it that well herself. “We’re not fighting, it’s just… a temporary setback.”

“If you say so,” Then a pause. “She’s okay, though, right? Mina, I mean.”

Jeongyeon’s concern for Mina was something that dated back from their high school years, and Sana thought it was the sweetest thing. She almost sighed at the whole scenario – poor Jeongyeon had no idea that she was involved in the mess as well. She’d rather not tell her right now, though; it would only make more questions pop up.

“Yeah, she’s alright.” Sana smiled sincerely, and it was all Jeongyeon needed to believe her. Minatozaki Sana might be a vixen and mess with people a lot to get what she wants, but it was easy to know when she was being truthful. It was rare for her to be a manipulative ass to their group of friends, too.

“That’s good.” Jeongyeon turned around to get into the locker room. “I’ll see you later, okay? Good luck with the party.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sana slapped her butt playfully. “Go shower, you stink.”

“And, uh…” Jeongyeon scratched the back of her neck. “If you or Mina need some help, don’t hesitate to tell me, okay?”

Sana looked at her sympathetically – she didn’t need to add the ‘you’ at the sentence, Sana knew exactly who she was worried about.

It’s always been like this ever since she could remember: Jeongyeon looked after Mina all the time, and when she wasn’t with her, she was asking about her. She did this to the whole group, like a silent protector, but with Mina things were different. She was more tender, spoke softly, looked at her gently. Sana was the first to notice, but didn’t say anything.

“Will do, Romeo.” She replied teasingly, earning an eye roll from her friend. Jeongyeon finally bid her goodbye and they parted ways. Sana couldn’t help but to sigh at the whole tragedy.

“You need to stop being so caring, Jeong.” She whispered to herself, then moved to her next target. She wasn’t giving up just yet.

The first thing Momo wanted to do once she got back to her room was shower, then eat a protein bar. Her stomach was pretty much gnawing at itself, all thanks to that stupid diet she decided to start at the beginning of the year. The results were apparent once she looked at her abs in the mirror, but that didn’t mean she got used to eating like a rodent once every three hours.

She had just left her last class for the day and was making her way towards the building’s exit when she bumped into someone.

“Sorr—” Then she smelled the perfume. “Nabongs?”

“Momoring!” Nayeon’s expression lit up and she side-hugged her friend despite carrying a huge book in her arms. “I was going to call you later.”

“Oh, well. I’m here now,” She looked at the way Nayeon seemed to be having trouble carrying whatever that book was and immediately reached out. “Let me carry that.”

“Huh? Oh no, it’s okay!” But of course, Momo wouldn’t take a no for an answer, and she gave her the book with a sigh. “I swear, you’re turning into Jeongyeon with this whole ‘knight in shining armor’ act you two have going on.”

“A hotter version of Jeongyeon, right?” Momo couldn’t help but to tease despite her beating heart. She didn’t want to behave differently around Nayeon, it didn’t matter what her stupid feelings told her, and she wasn’t going to. She treasured their friendship too much for that.

Nayeon’s eyes slid from her face to her apparent muscles and smirked. “Perhaps. I’ll let you know.”

Momo pushed her gently with her shoulder and the two started walking. “Where to?”

“The Drama Club faculty office. This thing you’re carrying is the list of all the party guests for tonight,” Nayeon stared back at Momo. “Which is what I was going to ask you later. Are you coming?”

Momo opened her mouth to answer but spotted someone in the distance. It wasn’t hard to recognize Sana, even in the middle of a crowd, and Momo didn’t want to go through that whole trouble again. She knew that if Sana saw them together, she would use some very convincing arguments that would make Nayeon turn against her and force her to go to the stupid party.

“Shit, come here,” Momo pulled Nayeon by the sleeve to the opposite direction and walked faster with her until she was sure they were out of sight. Sana never ran, anyway.

“Who are you running from?” Nayeon asked in between chuckles.

“No one. Never mind that,” Momo sighed and resumed their path – she unfortunately knew exactly where the Drama Club faculty office was thanks to months of keeping an eye on Nayeon’s endeavors. “About the party, I don’t think I’m going.”

“Aw, really?” It was a lot harder to remain stoic when it was Nayeon whining at her general direction. “I was hoping you’d go. Mina and Dahyun are the only ones going from what I know. Haven’t talked to the others yet, but I doubt they would.” Then she thought a bit more. “I mean, Sana’s going, but she’s at every party, so.”

“That’s true,” Momo giggled, turning right at a corridor. “I’m just not really in the mood, I guess. Jeongyeon is gonna study for an exam so I think I’ll stay with her this time. Watch a movie from her holy pen-drive, eat something healthy.”

“You’re still dieting?” Nayeon looked upset. “Momo, you’re going to vanish if you don’t eat more.”

“Just for a few more months.” She smiled, despite the harsh tone. She appreciated when Nayeon showed her concerned side; it was a rare sight. “I promise I’ll eat more starting this Fall.”

Nayeon, seemingly unconvinced, stepped in front of her, making the brunette halt. “Look at me in the eyes and promise me you’ll stop obsessing over a perfect body and eat.”

And it shouldn’t be hard to do something so simple like that, but Nayeon became incredibly attractive when she was mad and demanding, and Momo could feel her cheeks heating up. She hated that feeling in the pit of her stomach that resurfaced every time Nayeon was close to her, paying attention to her, worrying about her, because hell, isn’t this what friends are supposed to do for each other? Worry and make sure they are okay? It drove Momo insane, sometimes.

After a nervous laugh and an eye roll, Momo finally stared into Nayeon’s eyes.

God.

She’s so beautiful it hurts.

“I promise.” She was glad her voice didn’t waver as much as her heart.

Nayeon squinted, but eventually smiled, teeth and all, and Momo wanted to tell her how much she loved her smile.

“Good.” She turned around and bounced up and down the rest of the way, with Momo’s eyes following her every move.

It was hard, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but to smile dumbly at the girl in front of her. Everything about Nayeon felt alive; she had this aura that spread to others and made them absolutely infatuated with her. Sure, she was self-centered and could be extremely annoying if you didn’t know how to deal with her flamboyant personality, but Momo had been by her side long enough to admire even the ugliest parts of her.

And she loved every bit of it.

Thinking about how easily she’d fallen for this girl made something gnaw at Momo’s stomach, and it wasn’t hunger this time. She had this sudden urge to do something stupid that would end up hurting her, but—

The words left her mouth before she could stop herself.

“Actually,” She was going to regret this. “I think I might go.”

Nayeon nearly tripped and Momo was by her side in seconds, checking if she was okay. “You will?” Her gummy grin was back, and close, and beautiful.

Momo’s eyes flickered towards her lips for a split second. “Yeah,” And then, “Can’t let the drama nerds steal you from me all the time.”

Nayeon’s expression was unreadable, but Momo was okay with it; she wanted to be with her, so she was going to.

Then the actress simply grabbed the book from Momo’s hand and dropped it on the floor, giving her a pen out of nowhere. “Then sign your name, Hirai.”

The way she said that was exhilarating for some reason. It felt like signing a death sentence.

She was suddenly excited for the party.

Sana was tired.

None of her most important friends wanted to accompany her to a simple party, her feet hurt from running around campus the whole day (her pals should really learn how to use a damn cellphone), and her broken wrist was hurting for some obnoxious reason.

After walking into the main building, Sana sat down with her back touching the nearest wall and sighed, burying her head on her arms. She knew no one would bother asking if she was okay, students in that same position in the middle of the hallway were a common sight, especially near finals. Maybe one or two professors might wonder, but they would probably just walk by as if nothing was wrong, and Sana appreciated that.

The evening classes were about to begin, but at that time the place was almost empty – like a limbo in between shifts. Janitors cleaned the bathrooms and courtyard, students walked back to their dorms (mostly getting ready for the party), and the setting sun glowed orange against the white walls.

Sana lifted her head, pressing her cheek against her good arm and watched as the birds flied outside.

Then she felt someone sitting down next do her. The warmth was familiar and she smiled, closing her eyes.

“Hard day?” The voice was so tender and relieving. Sana felt all of her worries floating away.

“Yeah,” She mumbled in reply. “I ran around campus all day. Almost tripped again, saw some people who recognized me, but I didn’t recognize them.”

“And then?”

“Argued with my friends. None of them wanted to help me, can you believe it?”

“Oh no.”

“Then I got tired. Decided to think about my life a little bit,” Sana opened her eyes, looking forward. “Lots of people call me easy, did you know that? Fake, a show off, that girl who slept with the whole Arts Department.”

The girl next to Sana shifted closer, touching shoulders with her.

“I know that I don’t own people anything. But sometimes I wonder if they’re right.” Then Sana finally turned her head to the girl. “Pathetic, right?”

“A little bit, yes.” The girl answered and smiled. Sana smiled back and they just stared at each other for a long time, Sana’s expression softening. She straightened her back and sighed, leaning her head on the girl’s shoulder.

“Come to the party with me?”

Jihyo leaned her head on top of hers. “Will that make you stop spitting bullshit about your perfect, talented, beautiful self?”

Sana giggled, hiding her face on Jihyo’s neck. She absolutely loved her friend. “Yeah.”

“Then I’ll come.”

And just like that, she found some company, and felt less alone. Maybe there was a lesson to be learned from all of this.

Maybe she should stop chasing people and wait for them to come to her.

Chaeyoung knocked on her bedroom’s door three times, then walked in silently. The lights were on, so that meant her patient was awake. She felt a bit concerned about this; she wanted Tzuyu to get as much rest as possible – it was never easy to miss three days of classes in a row. Sure, Chaeyoung brought back her homework and notes every day, but she wasn’t exactly the best teacher around.

“Tzuyu?” Chaeyoung approached the girl carefully. She was lying in bed, a bowl of soup next to her nightstand and the TV remote on her hand.

“Hey,” Tzuyu greeted her with a weak voice. She’d been getting better from her cold, but her throat was still hurting, so she tried to speak the least she could. “Dahyun brought dinner.”

Turning around to face the bathroom, Chaeyoung now realized that their other roommate was the reason Tzuyu wasn’t sleeping right now. “Well, it’s the least she could do after waking you up.”

“I live here too, you ass!” Dahyun yelled from the bathroom, which made the two younger girls laugh a little. Their room was usually messy because there were three of them, but today it was especially so – all thanks to Dahyun getting ready for this crazy party.

“It feels like a hurricane passed through here.” Chaeyoung walked into the bathroom to wash her paint-stained hands and nearly choked at the sight.

“A girl needs to be pretty, and being pretty is messy.” Dahyun’s makeup was literally half finished; she had this bizarre habit of completing one eye first and leaving the other completely clean. She said that it gave her a perspective, but it honestly made Chaeyoung laugh every time. “What?”

“Your stupid makeup.”

“It’s art, Son Chaeyoung. Art takes time.” Kim Dahyun was already extremely expressive, but with one small eye and one big one, she became the pinnacle of comedy. “Stop laughing! Go take care of Tzuyu, this bathroom is too small for two people.”

“Oh, man…” Chaeyoung wiped a tear from laughing too hard, but obliged.

“How is she?” Tzuyu asked, genuinely curious.

“I’ll sketch her later, I won’t be able to take that image off my head,” Chaeyoung replied, regaining her breath. Tzuyu laughed too, but started coughing. That made every protective instinct on Chaeyoung’s body act, and she sat down by her bed, grabbing the cup of water near the shelf.

“Here, drink.”

“Thank you,” Tzuyu swallowed the liquid and sighed, relieved. “I hate this stupid cold.”

“It’ll pass soon enough.” Chaeyoung’s features softened and she reached out to pat Tzuyu’s hair gently. Then she grabbed the bowl of soup. “Eat.” It was just natural to feed her at this point, and Tzuyu wasn’t complaining.

They chatted for a while, Chaeyoung told her about her day, and Tzuyu kept worrying about her photography project not being finished on time because she was sick. The painter assured her that she’d help her out once she was feeling better, and Tzuyu thanked her.

There was an element of softness between the youngest members of their group of friends – except for Dahyun, but that was another story completely. Chaeyoung and Tzuyu had always worked well together and gotten along better than most people. They’ve never had a real, bad fight before, because there was no reason to; they’ve always dialogued honestly and openly about their issues, so nothing had ever felt off with them.

They didn’t hide secrets from each other.

(Except that Chaeyoung was hiding one.

She just couldn’t tell anyone.)

After a while, the soup was finished, the TV program was fairly decent, and Dahyun was out of the bathroom – now with makeup on both sides of her face. “How do I look?”

“Like Dahyun.” Both girls answered at the same time and high-fived.

“Real helpful.”

“You look good.” Tzuyu said, honestly.

“Don’t forget to take your keys with you. You know we’ll be sleeping by the time you come back,” Chaeyoung warned her, getting up to put on her pajamas.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Dahyun searched for her wallet and keys and put them all inside her purse. Looking around one more time to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything, she nodded to herself. “Well, I’m going. Behave, don’t break stuff, sleep early, don’t watch porn on my Pay-per-view account.”

“As if.” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes. “Don’t get too drunk, I’m not taking care of you when you come back.”

Despite the hostile way they spitted words at each other, Chaeyoung and Dahyun hugged, and Tzuyu watched them fondly. They were still close friends, after all. “Rest well, Tzuyu.” Dahyun planted a kiss on top of her head, then jumped back, opening the door. “Goodbye, toddlers!”

It was incredible how quiet the atmosphere became once Dahyun was gone.

“She gives me a headache.” Chaeyoung complained taking off her shirt.

“She’s a lot to handle, yes.” Tzuyu agreed. “But our group wouldn’t be the same without her.”

“That’s the worst part,” There was a smile in her voice. “She’s as dense as she’s annoying.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. Never mind.” Chaeyoung forgot that Tzuyu didn’t know about the whole drama with Sana and Dahyun, and bit her tongue. Once she was done changing, she grabbed the pillow from her own bed and climbed back on Tzuyu’s, getting comfortable under the sheets. The youngest girl giggled.

“You’re gonna get sick if you stay near me.”

“Don’t care,” She answered sitting against the headboard. “I want to be with you.”

Tzuyu looked down shyly, but didn’t complain.

“Besides, the TV is right in front of your bed.” Chaeyoung added later, receiving lots of slaps in return. She laughed and grabbed Tzuyu’s hand. “Okay, okay, I’m kidding!”

“You also give me a headache, sometimes.” Tzuyu teased, but leaned her head on Chaeyoung’s shoulder. They stood in silence after this, enjoying each other’s company and watching a cooking show together. They were still holding hands, and Tzuyu intertwined their fingers at some point, which made Chaeyoung’s heart skip a beat. She didn’t move them, however, and pretended not to notice.

Tzuyu’s medicine was making her sleepy, and it didn’t take long for her to nod off on Chaeyoung’s shoulder. Her little snores were really cute, and that was how you knew she was deep asleep.

Carefully, Chaeyoung got up and turned off the lights. She was about to head to her own bed when she heard Tzuyu mumbling something in her sleep.

“Stay here…”

Chaeyoung’s heart constricted inside her chest and she bit her lip, sighing. Moving back to Tzuyu’s bed, she grabbed a few cushions from their sofa and tucked them under the girl’s chin. Apparently convinced that there was now a warm body next to her, Tzuyu dozed off again. Chaeyoung let out a relieved breath and climbed on her own bed.

She turned off the TV and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the pain inside her chest.

Chaeyoung had a secret that she couldn’t tell anyone.

And she wouldn’t allow herself to indulge in it, either.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, professor.” Jeongyeon bid her Literature teacher goodbye and finally let out a yawn she’d been holding for the sake of her reputation. She loved Miss Sunmi to bits, but her class was dense and filled with too much information. She wanted to do well on tomorrow’s test, so she had asked for an extra lesson in the evening. Now that it was done, she could finally go back to her room and relax.

But there was still something tugging at her heart, and she wanted to make this weird feeling go away before going to bed. She grabbed her phone and dialed. It rang twice, then the person picked up.

“Minari?”

“Jeongyeon,” Her voice seemed cheerful, which was good. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Jeongyeon replied, smiling softly. “A little tired, honestly. Training was hard, and I just left an extra Lit class.”

“Look at you, studying hard.”

“Someone’s gotta do it. You can’t be the only smart one in the group.”

Mina giggled softly like she always did and Jeongyeon felt lighter. “I’m glad you’re committed to stealing my title.”

“Yeah…” She ruffled her hair a little bit. “Listen, Sana told me you’re going to the party tonight.”

Mina stood in silence for a couple of seconds. “I am. I thought I’d try this whole ‘socializing’ thing before graduating.” She cleared her throat. “Besides, Nayeon will be there. If everything goes wrong I can always stick to her like glue.”

Jeongyeon turned left and started walking downstairs, imagining the scene. “You do know that this is the Drama Club party, right?”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I doubt she’ll be left alone for a second,” She let out a breathless laugh. “Those theater kids worship her like some kind of goddess. Which is understandable, honestly.”

“Hmm, I suppose.” Mina sounded down all of a sudden, but it might’ve been Jeongyeon’s imagination. “Well, Dahyun will be there too, regardless. Who knows, I might make some friends.”

“Yeah, who knows.” The conversation trailed off and they stood in silence for a bit. It wasn’t uncomfortable, however; Mina and Jeongyeon could stay on the phone for hours without really talking about anything and it still felt nice. They had this kind of relationship.

“Is that all you wanted to ask me?” Mina spoke up suddenly, snapping Jeongyeon out of whatever trance she was in.

“Oh, um… Yeah. I just wanted to make sure you’d be okay.”

“As usual.” She could hear the gentle smile in Mina’s voice.

“As usual.” Jeongyeon replied. More silence followed and soon she was at the dorms. “Well… I gotta go. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

“I mean that. You can call me at four in the morning—”

“And you’ll pick up. I know.”

“Yeah. Okay,” She laughed awkwardly and climbed the last set of stairs before coming face to face with her door. “Have fun.”

“I will.” Then a few moments later. “…Thank you for calling.”

“No problem.” Jeongyeon stood in front of her door with a dumb grin plastered on her face. “See you.”

They finally hung up and the athlete sighed, looking at her phone. Despite having made sure that Mina was alright, she was still antsy for some reason. Jeongyeon shook her head pushing the thoughts away, and finally opened her door. She was going to have a study session and couldn’t be bothered by a senseless anxiety.

She took one step into the room and was greeted by a mess of clothes on Momo’s bed, with said girl applying lipstick on the mirror next to the bathroom. That was unexpected.

“Uh… Sana told me you weren’t going?” It was more of a question.

“Change of plans,” Momo answered, shrugging. Then she turned around. “Should I go with a top or a shirt?”

“Do you want people to see your abs?”

“Yes.”

“Top.”

Momo smirked and walked back into the bathroom to finish her makeup. Jeongyeon threw her bag on her chair and jumped into her bed, staring at the ceiling for a bit, then back at the clothes. Seeing Momo getting ready for the party made something snap inside of her and she frowned, closing her eyes. Then she opened them again, rolled on her stomach and scratched her head.

Ah, fuck it.

Once Momo was done, she walked out of the bathroom and halted at the scene. “What are you doing?”

“Being dragged to this damn party.”

“…By whom?”

Jeongyeon sighed, grabbing her best outfit. “By my stupidity, apparently.”

Momo raised an eyebrow, then laughed. “That makes both of us, then.”

This was either going to be great, or suck in astronomical levels.

Honestly, Momo couldn’t wait to find out which.

#twice #kpop #my fic #im nayeon #hirai momo #myoui mina #kim dahyun #minatozaki sana #yoo jeongyeon #park jihyo #son chaeyoung #chou tzuyu #namo #mimo #chaeyu #saida #2yeon #jeongmi #twice fanfic

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oneweekoneband · 7 years

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ALL THE WAY ACROSS TOWN: Contributor’s Roundtable

The very first decision I made about this week (before, in fact, Hendrik had even given me the go ahead) was that if I was going to do it, I wasn’t going to do it alone. Part of that was self-preservation: Green Day are a massive band, with a three-decade-long career and insurmountable amounts of energy. It’s a lot for one person to tackle. Even between the five of us, we’ve barely managed to scratch the surface.

But more than that, there was this nagging feeling that’s only grown more powerful over the course of this week, that it would really just be a shame if only one person wrote about Green Day. They belong to everyone. They’re there for the people who need them, when they need them, for whatever they need them for. Yes, they mean the world to me. The thing is, they probably mean the world to you, too.

So I put out the call on Twitter and my blog (restricting it somewhat to my circle of acquaintances by doing so, unfortunately, but this did make me more comfortable with asking in the full knowledge that I wouldn’t be able to pay any contributors for their work), and I got lucky: most of the people I was secretly hoping would offer to write about Green Day did just that. And, oh man, did they write. I can’t express how proud I am to have been able to give those pieces a platform, and to have myself and my writing associated with them and their writers. I was so impressed with the generosity and honesty of everyone’s writing that I wanted to hear more, and so I suggested the idea of a roundtable, where we could all come together to talk about our mutual topic: Green Day. This is the result.

All of us, this week, have touched on notions of belonging and acceptance in our pieces. There’s been an undertone, throughout, of the notion of Green Day as a safe space of some sort - whether it be for kids to start to figure themselves or the whole punk rock business out, or in the crowd at gigs, or as not-male or not-straight music fans. Do any of you have any more (or more specific) thoughts about this? Is this a feature of Green Day’s music, or the band themselves, or something else entirely? (Despite my piece on punk, I know it’s not as simple as that, as I’ve been in more than one punk space and met more than a few punks who made me feel unsafe - there’s a difference between ideal and reality, always.) What is it that makes a band feel “safe”?

KJ: I think I thought of Green Day as a supportive space for all sorts of people who were different, and therefore avoided owning up to liking them because I didn't want to be thought of as different? Thankfully, I've gotten over that.

Jessie: For me, it’s a combination of factors. Some of it has to do with the punk thing. Green Day weren’t the first punk band I heard--that honor goes to another East Bay band, Operation Ivy--but sometimes I call Green Day my first punk band because it was around the time I first heard them that I started thinking of punk as an identity. I have definitely felt unsafe in punk spaces/around certain punks, and I guess Green Day sort of represented some utopian ideal of punk as this super welcoming club for nerds, freaks, and outcasts. I’m not sure why that is--maybe because of the scene they came out of, or maybe, because I said in my piece on “She,” it felt like they understood what it was like to be freaks and outcasts. Which leads into the second reason they felt safe to me, and that was entirely about their music. I was being bullied pretty much constantly during the time when I first heard them, and it just felt like they understood that. Like they’d been there. I mean, Dookie had a song (“Having A Blast”) about getting revenge on the people who bullied you. (More on that song later.) The third reason they felt safe to me is a very personal one, and it may sound weird, but--they felt safe to me because I didn’t have a crush on any of the band members. From the age of 12 to around 17 (or maybe even older, but that would lead into some topics that are beyond the scope of this roundtable), I usually ended up getting a crush on at least one member of every band I liked. I mean sexual fantasy-type crushes. And I was sort of terrified of my burgeoning sexuality (for many reasons). But with Green Day, I thought of them more like cool older brothers than people I wanted to get with, and that made them feel safer to me than a lot of other bands.

Jacqui: Jessie, I’ve never even thought about it the way you put at the end there, but now that you have I completely agree. I’ve also never had a crush on any of them, and it does make a difference. There’s something a lot safer about wanting to swap guacamole recipes with Mike, for instance, than ever having been properly attracted to him would have been.

Alice: It was much the same for me, though I think Green Day was my first punk band (or, possibly, The Offspring). But Green Day also was sort of a gateway drug, in terms of pop punk, and I think that in so many ways the pop punk scene of the early-to-mid-2000s was my safe space. It’s like we’ve said, that punk in reality isn’t always the safe space it is supposed to be - and of course, it is different for everyone and we are ignorant, of certain things, when we’re young. But when I was growing up, in Alabama, there weren’t many spaces for me. The pop-punk boom/resurgence of the 2000s was a saving grace, I think. Those bands - Green Day, My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, etc. - and the people I met through them, mostly online, became a huge part of the ways in which I reckoned with myself and my identity. Between “Well, maybe I’m the faggot America / I’m not a part of the redneck agenda” and Bert McCracken (of The Used) wearing a shirt that said “Gay is OK”, I felt included and comforted by these group of weird punk misfit dudes.

This is perhaps a corollary to the above: as far as I know, everyone who’s written for this week is, in some way or another, not-straight. One of my favourite things ever written about Green Day, Cristy Road’s coming out memoir Spit and Passion, is also, obviously, written by a not-straight woman. I know that when I think of Green Day, I think of a band that is Not A Straight Band, in smaller ways and larger ones (I’m thinking of Billie Joe, of course, and of certain lyrics, and safe spaces, again, and of the secret-community like collection of “Coming Clean” tattoos I’ve seen over the years). What do you think?

Jessie: I don’t know why so many not-straight people are into Green Day, but it certainly does seem to be true. I didn’t know that Billie Joe identified as bi until way after I got into the band, but when I found out I was like “Hell yeah! Yet another reason to love them!” Dookie came out the year I realized I was bi (though it would be another four years or so before I actual felt wholly comfortable with that label), and though there were no explicitly queer songs on it, it goes back to what I mentioned above--so many Green Day songs seem to speak to that sense of being an outcast, being lonely, being bullied, and one of the things that made me an outcast and that I was bullied about was my sexual orientation and gender expression. Another theory as to why so many not-straight folks love Green Day: they are not an uber-macho band. Billie Joe has often been seen wearing makeup, nail polish, even dresses; I’ve seen Tre in eyeliner, too, and he’s just sort of goofy-looking (I mean that as a compliment!). Mike is probably the most ‘masculine’-looking of the band members, but even he is not some meathead. There are just so many rock and punk bands that are so so into the whole machismo, look-at-me-I’m-a-man thing, and Green Day are not one of them and it’s great.

Cat: So, haha, funny story, Billie Joe is sort of the reason I admitted to myself that I liked girls. I mean, God knows every single person in my life knew I wasn’t straight, I was bullied for it relentlessly from the ages of eight to eighteen, but I was really terrified of this idea of “not being normal”. Small town, small school, white picket fences and 2.5 kids - I had this really clear idea that there was a Right way to live your life, which was “how everyone else was living it”, and that there was a Wrong way. And then I read that Advocate interview - which I was so happy to find again in your post about Coming Clean, Alice! - and Billie Joe says there, I think everybody is born bisexual, I think everybody fantasizes about the same sex. Which I disagree with as a point of view these days - but at the time, it was exactly what I needed to hear, to understand that my thoughts and feelings about girls weren’t just a random fluke that I needed to suppress. And then later I was able to move into a more mature standpoint, i.e., “oh, it doesn’t actually matter if this is normal or not, it’s okay anyway”, and also, “oh, I’m actually way more into girls than guys.” But I really, really needed that Advocate interview to get me to that place.

Alice: Thanks, Cat! Yeah, as I mentioned in my piece, I didn’t read The Advocate interview until much, much later. But I read it - when I was seventeen - exactly when I needed to read it. I don’t think that I ever connected Green Day, and the ways in which their music always meant so much to me, to my being gay until that moment. It was a moment of satisfaction, reassurance, almost. Like oh this is maybe why they always felt like home to me.

KJ: I have a very vivid memory of frantically late-night Wikipedia-ing a “list of bisexual celebrities” and feeling utterly relieved when I saw Billie Joe’s name. Like, if this guy who I looked up to could be bi, so maybe could I? Not for the first or fifteenth time, I thought about starting a band.

[ continued under the cut ]

We’ve also talked a lot about what Green Day meant to us, about our memories of the band and their songs, simply by virtue of this week being a retrospective of their career. Have your feelings changed, in the present? Do they mean/are they the same band to you now as they used to be?

Jessie: Green Day have drifted in and out of my life. They’ve grown as I have and sometimes I’ve needed them and other times I haven’t. It’s like they’re old friends who I sometimes go years without speaking to, but when we run into each other we pick up where we left off. Some of their albums have come out exactly when I needed to hear them, others have grown on me, others I’ll probably never be that into. But they’ll always mean a lot to me because of the things we went through together (to stretch that “old friends” metaphor), and I adore Revolution Radio--I think it’s their best album since American Idiot.

Cat: I mean, part of it’s just going to be the usual punk problem, i.e., American Idiot was the most important album of my entire life, it defined everything in my life, it was my constant soundtrack and the only thing that explained the world, and then Obama was elected president.

And then Trump was elected president! And suddenly it’s - not the most important album in the world, the Bush era was very specific and unique and I need slightly different content from my punk for 2017, but it means more to me than it did in 2010. It’s like cicadas, it comes out of the earth to scream every 16 years.

KJ: Funny enough, I was up at my parents’ house the week before this OWOB started and my mother still uses the one mix tape I made her in high school as her alarm clock cd. So, while I'm thinking about Green Day and Having Some Real Feelings, out of nowhere comes the strains of “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life),” my mom's only acceptable Green Day song (all others deemed too noisy). So in a way, Green Day is less a rebellious sound and more a coming home, to me, now.

Is there anything else you wish you’d had the space to say about Green Day? Another song you wanted to cover, maybe, or a story or observation or thought that wouldn’t fit in any of your pieces?

Jessie: There is so, so, so much more I could say. A lot of thoughts and ideas came up over the course of this week. One thing I thought of that I eventually want to explore further is about “Having A Blast.” That song came out before Columbine, and I wonder if it sounds different to people who heard it for the first time after that. I wonder if that song could even be written now. In 1994, it sounded like a harmless way to vent about being bullied, a way to get our your anger without actually hurting anyone. Now that people have actually taken those feelings beyond the realm of fantasy, that song sounds a lot darker.

Alice: Only that we really, really should have planned for a second roundtable, just to discuss Green Day’s cover of Eye of the Tiger.

More seriously, I am a bit sad I wasn’t able to write a piece about the musical (sorry Jacqui!) - I had the chance to see it when it opened and it remains, to this day, the only Broadway show I’ve ever bought full price orchestra tickets for. It wasn’t perfect, but sitting in a Broadway theatre between people my age who had obviously been with the band since the beginning and women in their 60s and 70s who still wore gowns to the theatre - and seeing that they were both equally happy to be there - that was a really special moment for me.

KJ: Oh man, eye of the Tiger! Ditto their “I Fought the Law” cover. Basically, I guess we should have luxuriated in covers.

Jacqui: I know that I, personally, avoided covers this week because there was already so much to say about their original work. But if I had gone in that direction, it would have been “Working Class Hero”. One of the major ways I had of connecting with my dad was through music - a good 75% of the stuff I know about rock history, still, came from him - and this song and really the whole benefit album it was released on was an actual, tangible bridge between us (I have this incredibly fond memory of waiting for me just inside the door when I came home from school one day, bursting with the need to tell me that “Justin Timberlake is really talented, actually”). I’d also want to talk about the difficulties and complications of things like benefit albums, probably, and about Green Day’s activism in general.

Finally, is there anything you want to say to each other (or me) - responses to posts, questions you want to ask, etc?

Cat: I get the feeling I’m a lot younger than a lot of you - was born in ‘95, Bush’s election is my first real political memory, and you guys talk about American Idiot and the Iraq War and the ‘00s as things you experienced as people who were coming of age, not young kids. Do you all think that makes a difference? Do you need to be a certain age to appreciate Dookie in a certain way, for example? Also, jeez, y’all have been incredible, I’m so honored to be part of a week with such amazing and thoughtful writers for such an amazing and thoughtful band.

Jessie: Hmm, I don’t know if it’s an age thing. I will say that I’m probably the oldest one here--I was born in 1981!--but I know people who are 10-12 years younger than I am who heard Dookie as adolescents and loved it just as much as I did. So maybe it depends more on who you are/what your life was like when you heard it than on your actual age.

I don't really have any questions for any of you, but I’ve thoroughly enjoyed being part of this as well. All of you are amazing writers and I’ve loved reading your different perspectives on Green Day. Also, I’m working on a long essay-thing about Dookie (I’ve been mapping it out for about a month already!), and I may want to interview some of you for it, if that sounds like something you’d be interested in.

Alice: I certainly don’t think you need to have been a certain age to appreciate Dookie - like I’ve said, my mother loves early Green Day and she turned 65 this year. But I do think perhaps you’re right about American Idiot, not that it doesn’t hold meaning for people who were too young to remember 9/11 or people who were well into adulthood. But, I was born in 1990 and so my “coming of age” period was literally when Bush got elected. I very much remember watching the towers fall. And, as someone who had the questionable delight of meeting him personally, I certainly remember George Bush. There aren’t words for how important that album was, in that moment in time. Waking up when you’re eleven years old and realizing that world had suddenly and completely changed, and for reasons you don’t really understand - well. Music helped with that, it helped a lot. So, again, not that it didn’t or couldn’t mean the same to someone a bit younger than me (it obviously did!) but for someone who came of age in Obama’s America? I don’t think it’s possible to really get the very specific - and bleak, angry, defiant - zeitgeist American Idiot captured.

I don’t have any questions either, but like Jessie I wanted to thank you all so much for this! I love doing One Week One Band and I loved it even more doing with it with y’all! And thank you Jacqui for facilitating this. It’s been an absolute blast.

KJ: Just want to thank Jacqui for the opportunity to write about and come to terms with my Green Day fandom. (I don't think my therapist was...intending? To discuss a pop punk band for 30min this week?) Also re: age, it really doesn't matter, as there are many accessible avenues to Green Day. (Thatsaidamericanidiotisclearlythebestfightme.)Thanks again!

Jacqui: Jessie, I would be absolutely delighted if you decided to interview me, and am going to take a second right now to beg you to let me know when that essay goes live regardless, because I will definitely want to read it. I’ve left your mention of it in, here, so that people will know to keep an eye out for it!

I agree that age doesn’t matter when it comes to getting into Green Day, or even understanding them - there’s a difference between remembering a specific point in time and understanding or finding your own meaning in what came out of it, and I think that’s true of all art. Whatever you love, whatever sparks a feeling of recognition in you, that’s yours and no one can take that feeling away from you. That said, I do think there’s a difference in types of understanding when it comes to huge, world-shaping events like watching the towers fall (or, more positively: the development of the internet and its ability to facilitate both music sharing and community building.) Basically, I agree with Alice. No one is surprised.

Thank you so much again, everyone. It really has been a delight, and a privilege. I’ll be making a round up post that re-introduces you all and collects your contributions to end the week.

#green day

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lizzieraindrops · 7 years

Text

intro

part of advanced PLACEMENT: an ars PARADOXICA high school au about a gang of queer teen nerds, by @estherroberts , @podcastmecaptain , and @lizzieraindrops

all three of the aformentioned dorks are equally responsible for the hijinks found in this post.

click here for the au masterpost | track #ars placement for updates!

point-of-exile, CO

modern day, 20[fuck]

bill donovan is the principal of the only high school around for miles

he's a dick

like a full on dick

seniors: june, helen, anthony, sally

juniors: penny, esther, quentin, jack, bridget

important relationships/friendships: june/helen, helen/anthony, june/quentin, esther/bridget, jack/penny, sally & anthony, esther & jack, sally & esther

june and helen are dating each other as well as their boyfriends, they and quentin and anthony have a poly arrangement that they're all really happy with

also, sally and anthony are really Not dating, but also they're not exactly Not Dating, either. mostly, they're best friends.

everyone at school is slightly bemused by the gang because so many of them are dating each other (in both assorted pairs AND poly chains) and those that aren't are often so close that it's hard to tell anyway

theatre kids: why the fuck is the science department queerer than we are

height order from shortest to tallest: esther, sally, jack, bridget, penny, quentin, helen, anthony, june

sally skipped a grade and is the same age as the juniors

esther and bridget are out to everyone in the science kid gang and esther’s sort of out at school

sally's completely out to the gang and most of school by senior year. she’s ace as hell and definitely some kind of aromantic

sally had a really awkward coming out that probably involved terrible puns

june and quentin are both bi and out (june is out to everyone except her parents)

quentin is a demiguy and mostly goes by he/him but sometimes uses they and ze

jack is trans

helen is trans (and loosely bi, if she had to pick a label for that aspect of her identity)

anthony’s pan

penny is demiromantic and demisexual

helen and june are the mom and dad friends

bridget actually calls them mom and dad

the three of them go get sandwiches at the coffee shop where penny works

and the four of them have a “our dates are nerds and we’re suffering” bond

they call themselves “the girlfriend gang”

everyone agrees the following is true:

helen: god

june: the devil

bridget: an angel

penny: a demigod

helen for student body president

anthony works part time at the post office. he gets very bored. sometimes the gang goes to bother him and he makes faces at them through the slots when they open the mailboxes

june works in retail, even though her parents are kind of rich. they wanted her to get the life experience. if you’ve ever worked retail you understand why she’s always angry

bridget volunteers at the library

she’s friends with all of the old lady librarians

they give her advice when she wants to plan cute dates with esther

and they all share book recommendations

and geek out while they shelve

sally works at the ice cream shop

always gets in trouble for trying to identify the flavor formulas

gives everyone discounts

most likely to get in trouble for her hair being uncontainable

lots more under the readmore!

fitness pacer test

esther gets out of it by faking an injury

bridget does the minimum +2 laps bc she's extra

june and quentin KICK ASS bc theyre on track and go running together

sally is sprawled across the finish line

anthony cuts in line for chicken nuggets

it's like the vine, he's like

so i’m sitting there

bbq sauce on my tiddies

sally’s on the floor, dying laughing

sally wears a onesie on pj day

senior prank, somehow engineered to mess with JUST THE JUNIORS

petra does backflips at pep rallies

quentin actually pays attention in class

bridget talks A LOT in english (to the point where she’s now trying not to talk for fear of taking over the conversation) and a little in history and that’s it

esther participates a lot in almost every class but she’s frankly frightening in the sciences

jack has trouble staying focused but he’s doing his best, usually he’s okay if he brings something to fidget with

anthony is A GOOF

however, he does get suspended

for cleaning principal donovan's clock if you catch my drift

he punched him. i mean he punched him.

in the throat.

he's grounded too and everyone can't write or text or communicate with him, so they refer to this period as his time in The Punishment Cube

sally finds a way to chat tho

because she's sally

donovan quits after this.

he cannot fucking handle these weirdos.

bye bitch

sally’s only talkative in her special interest classes, otherwise she’s pretty quiet

ESTHER AND JACK BEING OBNOXIOUS IN SCIENCE CLASSES TOGETHER

they squabble constantly

the teachers spend a whole month figuring out how to make sure they don’t have classes together (oh, god, not Them)

but esther’s in the wrong math, has to get her schedule changed, ends up in ap physics 2 with jack

magic SCHOOL BUS

the gang meets up every now and then for magic school bus marathons

with breaks for watching cosmos or bill nye

anthony tried to play the theme on the tuba once

it went very badly

cards club

esther’s the president

jack’s the only other member

they meet once a week and just play dilemma together

if you get jack and esther to work together it’s fucking eerie

they don’t need to ask each other for stuff they just know what the other one needs

the only thing more terrifying than the two of them going after each other is the two of them going after someone else

maggie the mouse girl let all of the lab rats out

somehow helen is in band, orchestra, and choir

she plays clarinet and string bass mostly, but it doesn’t take her long to pick up something new

one year they all did their arts cred at the same time

bridget on bassoon, and she’s damn good

sally was in percussion and had way too much fun with the cymbals

anthony should have been in percussion but he played TUBA

quentin did cello

june and esther play viola, they have an ongoing rivalry for the first chair (esther’s losing!)

carmen is absolutely the principal first violin and she’s a freshman and everyone is just resigned to the fact that she’s better than all of them

sally and anthony share an “i went to smart kid camp” shirt

it’s huge on sally, who is a twig. she wears it cinched with a hair tie

it’s slutty tight on anthony

#ars PLACEMENT #ars paradoxica #sally grissom #esther roberts #anthony partridge #helen partridge #june barlowe #jack wyatt #bridget chambers #bill donovan #quentin barlowe #penny wise #high school au #modern au #estherroberts #podcastmecaptain #this is a Very Serious au y'all

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cookinguptales · 7 years

Note

Omg with TokyoPop 😂 Please share the early 2000's anime days this is new to me and sounds hilarious.

they were dark-ass times, my friend

TERRIBLE AMERICAN PUBLISHING (idk how it was in other countries; I went to Paris many years later and was impressed with their...everything when it came to different kinds of comics but) Tokyopop which was basically run by people who only half knew what they were doing, Viz which mirrored manga for a long time bc they assumed Americans were too stupid to learn how to read the other way (which was particularly annoying in comics where like a right arm or something was important), ADV which probably couldn’t actually release an entire series if their goddamn lives depended on it (yes, I’m still mad about MaLoki), and various other publishers that would publish like one title ever

No legal streaming!! Which meant you either had to buy super expensive DVDs or pirate them online. (BACK IN THESE DAYS, CRUNCHYROLL WAS A PIRATING WEBSITE. NEVER FORGET.) This was right at the end of VHS days, though, so it could be worse!! If you got a VHS, it would be subbed or dubbed. When I watched Evangelion it was on bargain bin VHS tapes so it was like 70% subbed and 30% dubbed and it was a painful time.

Fansubs online were a huge thing. Legit companies had pretty slow turn around (you were lucky if something like the Anime...Network? I can’t remember. or Toonami or Funimation picked it up, bc they had tv channels -- though you’d usually have to put up with a shitty-ass dub) and you’d usually have to wait for a large-chunk release. If you wanted to watch something as it aired, you had to watch it raw or depend on fansubs. These were uh. Of varying quality. They’d usually have a 2-24 hour turnaround depending on the size of the group, with Shounen Jump titles having the fastest turnaround. Those were anime that were already published in manga form in the US via Viz, so they were already mostly familiar with how they’d go, plus...lbr, a lot of those shows were....easier to translate. If you catch my drift. (They tended to be dumb and repetitive. That is what I’m saying.) Also a larger fandom, so greater pool to get workers from and a greater reward re: downloaders. (And people usually torrented new fansub releases bc there were fewer online streaming sites, so popular shows downloaded faster.)

So like, picture if you will, a group of tween-teen nerds sitting around a computer watching fansubs of suspicious quality and shrieking the theme songs in unison because a fansub wasn’t a fansub without bouncing karaoke at the top. We got a DVD player that could play avis at one point and that was kind of mind blowing. Otherwise, you could use an AV cable or buy a DVD.

You bought things legit if you wanted to really support the industry or you really loved a show, not because they were always better quality. I’ll leave it at that.

There were also a lot of scanlation communities, which were basically fansubs but for manga. These were also of extremely variant quality, and there were a lot of rules for a very weird online translation subculture. I always kind of got the impression that most of them hated each other. A lot of these groups required IRC use, which was confusing af, and I honestly believe that’s the biggest reason why most of these ended up getting put on online manga reader sites. There were fewer of those back then.

Most anime fandom was very strongly demarcated. Most of the fandom I engaged with was on livejournal, which meant it was like...maybe 95% female. You’d get more men on forums, which is why we all fled the forums and went to LJ. lol. Trash spaces. Trash.

The whole yaoi/shounen-ai/BL situation was very different. LGBT stuff was considered more niche and still something you needed to “warn” for in most environments. For a long time, the only legit published stuff was like. FAKE and Gravitation and CLAMP and maybe Eerie Queerie or Loveless or something. So basically, it was shit. lol. (As a young teen, I was particularly attached to CLAMP/Kaori Yuki stuff. Thank god my parents never caught on.) Anyway, to get to scanlated BL works, you usually had to go to special communities/sharing circles online or figure out the prominent scanlators and follow them. Very, very little doujinshi was scanlated. Very few (English-speaking) people ventured onto pixiv. There were a lot of arguments about the differences between yaoi, shounen-ai, and BL. Don’t let anyone nowadays fool you. When I was a teen, 90% of all “yaoi fangirls” were queer, and half of that annoying sex-focused excitement was because it was the first gay sex we’d seen in any publication anywhere. It was a different time in the media landscape. BL has a lot of shitty-ass tropes, but we were basically starving in a desert. We took our Gravitation and we liked it. F/F manga was very rarely translated, and I guess that’s still the case today. There’s less of it, and I think we’ve all been trained to prioritize male sexuality. (Plus most of the shoujo-ai that got posted online was like uber-innocent schoolgirl stuff.) People make fun of “yaoi fangirls” and “fujoshi” and all that now, but I can honestly say I would have never understood my own sexuality without that subculture. Like the anime clubs were full of obnoxious little weebs, but let’s be straight about something, no pun intended. They were full of obnoxious little gay weebs. People are all about gay (western) cartoons nowadays, but when I was a teen, they were all about that anime.

Because almost all published anime/manga was in hard copy, you’d get mini congregations of fans in stores. See: hordes of manga fans sitting in the manga aisle of the book store, fans chatting with each other in...suncoast, or wherever they could find DVDs/VHS. The level of social skills in these areas was...not high. Also, a lot of fuckin creepy predatory dudes going after girls. Hooooly shit. I was so glad when they started releasing anime/manga online. Y’all livestreamers on Crunchyroll don’t know how good you have it. You used to have to deal with the fedora bros who were a good 10-20 years older than you but still following you around in stores, conventions, etc. any time you wanted to get new stuff. Like it was a legit problem.

LIKE I’M TRYING TO CONVEY HERE THAT JUST GETTING ANIME/MANGA WAS A PAIN IN THE REAR END. not as bad as the dark days when people had to physically mail each other shit, but it was still definitely a subculture and you’d definitely be thrown in with a lot of people you wouldn’t want to be around. (Similar to how things are in modern western comics fandom...)

Fandom itself was basically a tire fire. In every possible way. Like I’m nostalgic for it in some ways, because in some ways I really miss how text-based it was. There was a lot more meta and conversation, and fanfic was much better supported. Comment culture was a lot stronger and you’d become friends with people who read your work and/or people who wrote stuff you liked. But on the other side of that, there was a lot of weird fanfic gatekeeping. Sporking communities and flaming and fic rating communities were much more of a problem back then. You release stuff to crickets nowadays, which is demoralizing, but back then there was a solid chance you’d wake up to an inbox full of hate mail, especially if you wrote slash. It definitely happened to me a few times as a kid. I think they really targeted teens, too. So writing fic could be shitty. There was less fanart in American spaces, too.

I do agree that to some degree things have gone too far with the whole virtue-signaling/issuefic thing, with a lot of people yelling very loudly about things they may not always understand very well, but you gotta understand. Fandom was a hateful place in many ways back then. Sexist, racist, homophobic, you name it. Female characters are still ignored now, but they’re typically treated less horribly than they were back then. People try to be more educated about other ethnicities and sexualities and such now. You’re less likely to get bullied because you were gay. I think the big problem is that sometimes people hijack important movements to be giant dicks, and a lot of people, especially younger people, get swept up in that.

There was a very specific kind of anime badfic back then. I could write literally an entire post on that. Like god. Where do I even begin??? The bluenettes? The super kawaii fangirl nihongo? Script fic? “Tell me what to write next!” fic? lolololcrack fic? I mean, there were a lot of varieties of suck back then.

Weird subcultures. Like...really weird ones. Things got kind of cult-y relatively often. Just say no to cults.

if you want more details on anything, I’m having particularly painful flashbacks right now. ugh, the free hugs signs.

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obsidianarchives · 4 years

Text

Jessie Blount

Jessie Blount (she/her) is a queer woman of color, an INTP, a Sagittarius, a sci-fi and fantasy nerd, a witch, and an incredible cook. Jessie works for a rad non-profit in Detroit, where she lives with her girlfriend, Nicole, and a beautiful Slytherin cat princess, Winnie. She spends her time learning survival skills for the impending apocalypse and collecting Harry Potter memes.

Black Girls Create: What do you create?

HUMOROUS YET RUTHLESS

I create primarily audio-based media themed around the critical analysis of my fandoms. I do this mainly through my podcast The Gayly Prophet, a queer analytical chapter by chapter reread of the original 7 Harry Potter books that I do with my co-host and good friend Lark. Our bi-line is ‘humorous yet ruthless’ because while I’ve been a fan of the series since before book 4 was out, there are a lot of deeply problematic things in the text. One of the biggest inspirations for the pod was Witch Please, a feminist analysis of Harry Potter by two “lady scholars,” which was great, but sadly went book by book rather than chapter by chapter. While there are a ton of Harry Potter podcasts, there were not any that specifically looked at Harry Potter through a queer lens.

On The Gayly Prophet's Patreon I create on-the-spot fanfic round-robin style with Lark and post various multi-fandom fanfiction that I’ve written. I also discuss my other fandoms in some of our other Patreon exclusive content, like our “Editors Cut” where we talk about things like time travel, or my biweekly link roundup, “Muggle Studies.”

BGC: Why do you create?

I don’t really consider it an option, more of a necessity. I didn’t grow up with a lot of money, and I struggled a lot with the reality of racism and feeling different than a lot of kids I grew up with. Books and television were my friends, not just as an escape but as a way of dreaming of what could be. This is what drew me to sci-fi and fantasy, but as a child of the ‘90s, I didn’t come across many Black people or women in the stories I consumed. Like a lot of hardcore readers, I dreamed of being a writer, of creating my own story that was as majestic and beautiful as my inner life that had the kind of people I knew, complexity, and strong and weird and queer and POC characters. I cut my creative teeth in fandom, writing a lot of terrible, half created fanfics to go with the poetry that I wrote in my teens. The Gayly Prophet is really an extension of this passion, of my belief in the importance of fun, deep, textual analysis with other people.

BGC: Who is your audience? What do you hope your audience gets out of your podcast?

When I envision our audience, I think of other angry BIPOC queer nerds like me who love a thing so deeply that we want to rip it apart. I think to love a work of art is to examine it from all sides, rediscovering that love but also questioning its limitations and highlighting its flaws. More personally, I hate talking about myself, a holdover of my not-great childhood and deep social anxiety. I’d much rather talk about and listen to people’s thoughts about books and TV and movies. I’ve never gotten tired talking about Harry Potter, as 50 episodes and dozens of hours of The Gayly Prophet can attest to. The gaps in canon are staggering, especially as it relates to marginalized people, and filling those in is something I’m never bored of. I want to have this dialog with our listeners, hear their thoughts and feelings and headcanons. It’s also a bit like group therapy. I talk a lot about childhood trauma and neurodiversity as it related to HP because there is so much built explicitly into the canon and discussing it helps me verbalize and process these things in my own life. At heart, I want our audience to not feel alone. I also want them to laugh because there can never be enough laughter.

BGC: Who or what inspired you to do what you do? Who or what continues to inspire you?

I’m perpetually inspired by Black nerds, especially folks who are older Millennial/Gen X Black nerds. Being a Black nerd didn’t used to be cool and acceptable. I was a weird kid growing up, consuming sci-fi novels like water and videotaping the X-Files on my grandparents VCR. When I got to college, I was lucky enough to start digging into race and women’s studies, and I was particularly interested in how that relates and informs art and media. One of the biggest influences for me was “The Oppositional Gaze” by Black feminist theorist bell hooks, where she says:

Critical black female spectatorship emerges as a site of resistance only when individual black women actively resist the imposition of dominant ways of knowing and looking. While every black woman I talked to was aware of racism, that awareness did not automatically correspond with politicization, the development of an oppositional gaze. When it did, individual black women consciously named the process. Manthia Diawara's "resisting spectatorship" is a tenant that does not adequately describe the terrain of black female spectatorship. We do more than resist. We create alternative texts that are not solely reactions. As critical spectators, black women participate in a broad range of looking relations, contest, resist, revision, interrogate, and invent on multiple levels.

I take this to mean that nothing I consume is merely passive escapism, nor do I accept the prevailing white supremacy of much of the media I consume. It’s a complex consumption for me, I love stories and pleasing aesthetics and music and well-written prose. But everything I consume I interrogate, I analyze, I think on the possibilities of what if someone like me was at the center of the narrative. This way of looking has parallels in fandom, in the embracing of Black Hermione, in shipping, in headcanons, in examining canon and discarding and adding at will.

I also grew up listening to NPR and had this dream of having my own radio show where I just talked about books I loved. Podcasting is honestly a blessing in this regard because I bought a mic and invested in recording software and a website, and now I am living a dream that my sad teen nerd self could have only imagined.

BGC: How do you continue to be inspired especially in these specific times?

Joy and laughter and critical thought are, I think, the best way to survive these trying times. I spend a lot of my time thinking about injustice, racism, and our broken system, and it would be very easy to give in to the feeling of being crushed by a system that actively wants me dead. Thinking of silly Harry Potter puns or playlists for soft bi werewolves gives my endlessly running mind something fun to think on and makes the perpetual tightness in my chest ease a little, because, at the very least, my co-host Lark will laugh and then I will laugh and that’s something that I did, that I created.

BGC: Why is it important as a Black person to create?

Honestly, creating is what has gotten Black folks for generations through all the shit that America has wrung us through. There is a reason that anything good in American culture was either created by or made better in Black hands. Music, food, art, clothing, dance, acting, poetry, social change, sci-fi, even the best parts of Al Gore’s internet. And within this, there are countless Black women and Black queer folks who are nearly forgotten. Basically, everyone we know from the Harlem Renaissance was not straight. Disco and house music came from Black and Latino gay club scenes. Even ‘internet speak’ is from Black trans women and folks in the ball scene. It’s part of our culture to thrive in this world by creating something beautiful.

BGC: Are there other creators that you admire?

My top faves are Black ladies in sci-fi. My number one fave is the late great Octavia Butler, I think everyone should read the Parable of the Sower and Parable of the Talents. Janelle Monáe is out here living a peak queer nonbinary Afro-future nerd life, and I am so happy that young queer nerds get to grow up having someone like them (Janelle has not yet said what pronouns to use). Someone needs to give her all the money to make Afro-future sci-fi films. And, to paraphrase Issa Rae, I’m rooting for everyone Black who’s creating podcasts and writing fanfic and making YouTube vids and TikTok, especially the younger folks.

BGC: How do you balance creating with the rest of your life?

I work a full-time job that often has me working extra hours, so I don’t do as much for the podcast as I would like. Lark has a bit more relaxed schedule and TBH the podcast would not be half as good without him. My girlfriend is also very supportive, which helps so, so much. I schedule everything I do in Google calendar to make time for recording and the extra bits of running a podcast and having downtime.

BGC: How do you balance creating when you feel drained or exhausted?

I have depression, anxiety, and ADHD, so I am nearly always drained or exhausted. This is where clear communication and a shared calendar comes in. I know that if I work late at work, I need the next evening to recover and make sure to schedule recording sessions or podcast meetings spaced out from my work schedule. We do a lot of longer recording sessions on the weekends or the times where I have time off. We also record a lot of Patron-exclusive content that doesn’t necessarily require a lot of prep work or mental bandwidth, so for weeks where I am particularly low energy, I can still create something. And, lastly, we deeply stagger the time when we record to when the episode goes up, so if I’m in bad mental space and cannot do anything, I can take that time and episodes will still go out.

BGC: Any advice for new creators?

I think it can be hard to start a project because a lot of what we see is the finished product after years of work. You gotta power through it if you want to learn. And often people love it anyway. Someone might draw some fan art and see all the flaws, I see it and am like ‘Yes, more Black Hermione fan art, I love it.’ It’s ok if you have to take things slowly. Some weeks I only have an hour a week to knit or write or read for the podcast, because of real-life things. A lot of people who create all the time have, like, hired help or the unpaid labor of a spouse, so that ‘we all have the same 24 hours as Beyoncé’ thing is shitty creative advice.

BGC: Any future projects coming up?

We’ve got some exciting things planned for our ‘Make Harry Potter Even Gayer 2020’ campaign, in which we are amplifying queer HP fanworks and merch by queer creators. We are in the embryonic stages of planning some kind of live event for the campaign, too. Folks should follow us on social media to be kept in the loop on that stuff as it develops! We’re on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter @thegaylyprophet.

#Black Woman Creator #Podcast #writer #Harry Potter #The Gayly Prophet

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vaspider · 5 years

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New & Updated Intro Post

My intro post is now incredibly outdated, so, here’s an entirely new one. Let’s start with a few important updates:

If you like what I do? Consider hiring me, consider buying something from NerdyKeppie (the shop I own with my spouse - we do custom work!), consider buying me a coffee or becoming a Patron or tossing some money in my PayPal tip jar.

I am a disabled, queer, fat, Jewish non-binary butch whose entire income is derived from selling Quality Queerwear via our company NerdyKeppie (we also offer patches of all sorts, nerd gear, etc -- if you don’t see it, ask!), Patreon (queer fiction for a dollar) and freelance work. Please consider supporting me if you like what I do!

Yes, I used to identify as femme and in 2018 I came out as butch and forgot to update my intro post for like a year. So, yes, at one point I identified as femme, largely due to social pressure and trying to be something I wasn’t. 2018 is the year I claimed my butch soul, and holy shit, I’ve never been happier. This is not an indication of me not understanding butch and femme - it’s an understanding that no matter how old you get, you are constantly on a journey to understand yourself better. Or, at least, you should be.

At one point I identified as pansexual as well as bisexual, and I like the header art with the pansexual flag in it which was made for me years ago, so even though I no longer identify as pansexual, I’m keeping it until I find something I like better. You’d think I wouldn’t have to explain all this but people love picking at these things.

No, I am not going to debate the history or meaning of butch and femme with you or anyone. The links are in my header.

If you’re here to hateread, do yourself a favor and don’t. That’s just not healthy. And for the love of G-d, stop linking to my posts. I can see your posts, y’all; I have a site tracker. It’s just awkward and kind of sad.

Okay, so anyway.

Radfems, TWERFs, SWERFs and REGs/Exclusionists are explicitly not welcome here, and I do not want my family stories or life used for your politics. I block all of these categories, full stop. Radfems & TWERFs/TERFs deny the essential humanity of myself and my daughter and Exclusionists are just sort of painfully clueless about community history and what the community actually looks like offline. if you self-ID as one of those, please save us all the trouble and just don’t. If you’ve reblogged one of my posts and added something about how this proves one of your points, please pretend you respect other people and take it down.

If you are here because you don’t understand the post about the dog that attacked me, or its point, either legitimately or because you don’t really want to get it & want to argue with me about it, tell me I need to get counseling for my fear of dogs, tell me I’ve compared men to dogs, please go read seananmcguire explaining the post to someone who already sent me an ask about it. That pretty much covers why the post exists. Also you should buy and read Seanan’s books.

Also, also, all of the stories about @seananmcguire you’ve heard are probably true if they’re bizarre or funny. Especially the one about the lizard and the one about the frog.

If you’re here to tell me my views on asexuality & the queer community are wrong or that stuff I lived through & you weren’t born yet for is ‘ahistorical,’ go away. This blog is explicitly anti-gatekeeping for the Not-Straight Club.

If you’re here about the post about my great-grandmother, I kind of don’t have it in my heart to answer all the sad family stories. If you shared a family story on that post, thank you. If you want to use it to make some sort of gross radfem point about marital rape or some comment about how my great-granddad should have learned to pull out, I’m gonna block you without answering you. Don’t be gross.

If you’re here about the tiny house post, please read the notes, I’m not gonna explain it again.

Anon is never turned on, but if you ask me not to publish an ask, I won’t. Please remember to put that in the ask.

So here’s some stuff you should know about me:

I’m older than large portions of Tumblr, and in a fair number of cases I’m probably twice your age or more. If that’s a problem, I really am not offended if you aren’t cool with interacting with me. Age can be a powerful unbalancer in social relationships. I AM going to get annoyed if you start ‘explaining’ stuff I lived through to me and insisting you know my history better than I do.

Since it bears repeating one more time: I’m not interested in interacting with TWERFs, SWERFs, or ace-exclusionary queers. I’ve been Out for nearly 30 years & I really have no desire to argue my lived experience with anyone. I explicitly reject the term SGA.

My immediate family consists of my spouse @dadhoc, our beloved @apocalycious, my teenage daughter @mistresskabooms and stepson, my adopted son Owl, and DadHoc, MK and I’s 3 dogs: Lyudmila Pupperchenko (Mila), Captain Malcolm Reynolds (Cap), and Ser Davos Seawoof (Davos).

My brother’s band is Downtrodder and you should listen to them, because they’re awesome.

No one in my immediate family is cis or het. I have been called Spider for 20+ years, & now a lot of people call me Mama Spider.

In this house we understand that Ally is a verb, and it’s possible to be antagonistic toward a marginalization that you possess. Internalized transphobia, ableism, etc. are hellacious things to uproot. In this house we try to stay in our lanes & we understand call-outs while being aware of the toxic parts of call-out culture. Be cool to teenagers: you were one, and yes, the shit you said was just as stupid. You don’t win points for browbeating a teenager over an idea, you just look like a jerk.

I used to have a lot of paragraphs here about specific beliefs of mine, but really: Ally is a verb, intersections matter, capitalism is broken and cannot be fixed. I understand the difference between a bolt of linen and four shirts and believe that labor is entitled to all it creates. My class is ‘petit bourgeois,’ as I have seized the means of my own production.

If you screw up and you say something that hurts someone, say you’re sorry, and try not to do it again. It’s not that hard! Don’t tell them they shouldn’t be hurt. This goes double if it was an accident. “I didn’t know that was offensive, I’m sorry for hurting you. I’ll be more mindful in the future.” See how easy that is? That’s how we do in this house.

I’m bisexual, non-binary, disabled, neurodiverse, and don’t want pity or to hear how sorry you are for either of those last two things. Being autistic is just fine, and it didn’t happen because I was vaccinated. I have PTSD and GAD, and I live with both of them. They’re terrible roommates but I’ve got used to them. I’d like it if people would just stop throwing shade at the invisibly ill when we park in handicapped spots – I’m missing part of my spine, for fuck’s sake – and playing Oppression Olympics will get you stern looks and no dessert.

In this house we do nerd culture, there are no fake geek girls, and we understand that women invented masked superheroes (The Scarlet Pimpernel), science fiction (Mary Shelley), the modern novel (Jane Austen), dystopia fiction (Mary Shelley again), computer programming (Ada Lovelace and the ENIACs, which is my new band name), and got Star Trek on the air (Lucille Ball).

If I didn’t cover it, assume if it involves being a jerk or punching down, I’m not okay with it.

If it involves dogs being adorable, otters, mermaids, spiders, most of the major fandoms Tumblr loves (I can’t get into Supernatural, sorry, I tried), or people doing awesome shit, I am definitely here for that.

I am a Social Justice Paladin. I tank trolls. I used to think I was a Rogue, but, yeah, I tank trolls.

About six months ago, someone started calling me the ‘Non-Binary Regent of Summer,’ and I ran with that like an Olympic torch. Yep. It me.

@hypoallergeniccuddles thinks I’m secretly Mrs. Weasley.

That may be true also. If so, please remember what happens when you fuck with Molly’s children.

Welcome. Supper is at seven, the Wizard Home will make a room for you if you need it.

This post will be repeated a few times over the next few days so everyone sees it. <3 Thanks. I’m glad you’re all here.

#faq #byf

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