While I fully support the Cupsona trend and understand why it’s popular, IE it’s a simple template with lots of room for variation, I gotta ask, howcome there aren’t many/any folks out there making Boss-sonas?
Like, they’re the most significant category of NPC in the game, and given how wild and dramatic they are one’d think more folks’d be trying such. Maybe it’s the lack of “templatability” or the fact there’s so many ways to go with it it’s hard to pick one?
I really…dont get the appeal of transmasc nb afab folks as partners. Lemme explain. The phenomenon of like, “everyone” wants to bang this demographic is a recognized situation in queer circles. And like, as a trans dyke I find myself around a lot of other wlw, trans and cis, all of whom go gaga for afab non-men non-women named like, Chris or Taylor and going by they/he pronouns. And that’s fine! This is a reallt weird, long and blathery post, but do not mistake that to mean i have some serious point to make. Instead, Im just saying that this is a mildly awkward sitch for me because those folks hold no appeal for me at all. And like, I get that there’s a slight underlying fetishization there, like “oh hell yeah i get to be with a boy but hes not really a boy,” and i mean fetishization in the most neutral way possible here. Like, for some folks that is the goldilocks zone as far as partners go. Idk.
Reblog if you’ve ever felt impostor syndrome with your gender and/or sexuality
I know it took me a while after realizing I was gay to not have some weekly panic of “What if I’m not a Real Lesbian™???” Sometimes I’d think no one would believe me if I came out to them, or even that I wasn’t “allowed” to be gay.
I want LGBT folks to know that it’s 100% normal to struggle with those feelings. You can talk to other LGBT folks about those feelings and still have acceptance. And also I want you to know that the impostor syndrome doesn’t last forever; eventually you will feel comfortable with yourself.
Our party—a bard, a fighter, and a ranger—were on a one-off side quest to deliver a letter to somebody. He wasn’t at his house (learned after breaking in, to the DM’s dismay), so we found out the general area he was in and went there, confusion in our wake and a spring in our steps. I, the bard, had decided that I would funnel every ounce of skill I possessed into charisma, and at level 5 had a +6 modifier. I had been using that power at every opportunity that arose. We wander through the foothills full of caves, looking for this guy, when our fighter rolls a nat 20 perception trying to look for any signs of life.
DM: You—okay, so. Yeah. With that, you actually notice about fifty feet away that a particular cluster of bushes is rustling just slightly, but not with the breeze.
Fighter: Oh. Cool. “Hey guys, I think there are some folks in those bushes over there.”
Me: “Cool beans! HELLOOOOOOO, MY DUDES!”
DM: There’s a few seconds of silence before four guys come slowly forward from the bushes. They look pretty rough and tough, and uh—
Ranger: Can I roll perception? Uh… that’s a 15.
DM: You deduce that they’re probably bandits or something. They’re walking forward and one of the guys says, “Who are you little pests, and what’re ya doing in these here foothills of ours?”
Me: “We’re just hanging out, traveling, and actually it seems like a good time to break for breakfast if you lovely gents would like to join us! I can brew us up some chamomile, I have like a thousand mushrooms I got earlier—”
Fighter: “I got that chicken, too, and jerky.”
Me: “Oh hell yeah, we’re gonna chow down if y'all want in on that action.”
DM: That’s, uh… that’s persuasion, advantage because you’re offering them food and seem too dumb to be dangerous.
Me: Thanks man. Uh… 14 total.
DM: *head in his hands* I just—okay, they join you for breakfast I guess. And yet again you avoid a fight I planned for you. One of the dudes breaks out some eggs from somewhere.
DM: ………<i>all of them???</i> I mean… sure?? I guess??
Me: Hells yeah. Rolling.
Proceeds to roll: 16, 19, and <i>two natural 20s</i>.
DM: *head on the table* Like. You—you make your fellow party members super uncomfortable. You are piled under boys, it’s kinda gross but super chill for you. Kent wasn’t super into the whole group thing before, but now he would straight up die for you. He’s learning a lot about himself today.
Me: I’m gonna write those names down for later. Can I put “a boys harem” in my items list?
It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.
I’m literally in the middle of a living, breathing example of how close we still are to Jim Crow, segregation, and the inertia of white supremacy.
I’m in Alabama at my stepdad’s high school reunion. Class of 1973. The school was created after they closed the Black and white schools and merged them into one…keeping the colors, mascot, and school song of the previous white school. We’re at a picnic and they’re showing a slideshow of the graduating class…over half of which are white…not a single one of whom is here today. Again, this reunion is packed but there’s not one single white person. I asked why and was told, “They have their own.”
My stepdad is 62. The abuse he and his classmates endured at the hands of their white classmates 44 years ago is still present and real for them. Those white folks still have no desire to associate with the Black people they went to school with. In those 44 years, those white folks have raised kids and have grandkids to whom they have no doubt passed on their racism.
This stuff wasn’t “so long ago” and it’s not “in the past.” People are still alive and living with this daily.