#...uh. self-misgendering at link

[jasleh]

Philautia for the ask meme

oh boy, you didn't specify WoL or farmer (and on anon it's hard to guess which you might care about).... or question number -sweats- so uh.... guess we'll just see how much typing my wrists are willing to put up with this evening!

behind a cut 'cause even with bad wrists I'm prone to rambling

Does your OC have a healthy sense of their own worth and value? Or do they see themselves as failing to live up to their original potential? Perhaps they are convinced of their own sinful or inadequate nature?

for Rrahna... it's a bit of a mixed bag, really. on the one hand, it would be excessive self deception to not acknowledge that she can do what no one else can, and while she projects more confidence than she actually possesses, most of it is in fact real. on the other hand, I don't know that she sees much worth in herself outside of being the Warrior of Light, and it's not her expectations she strives to live up to, but everyone else's. Ultimately, however, I don't think this is a thing she thinks about very much. It just doesn't seem important to her.

My Sun Haven farmer, despite growing up surrounded by people who looked nothing like them, actually managed to develop a very healthy sense of their worth (their adoptive parents were really very good). While they have been known to... temper their opinions for the sake of diplomacy, she's never hesitated to look anyone in the eye - up to and including Dynus. Something is going to happen to them that will shake that self esteem down to the core, but by that point, they have a husband who is not about to tolerate any disrespect directed at his wife... even from his wife. (note: not misgendering. my farmer mostly uses they/them but also sometimes uses she/her and prefers 'wife' to 'spouse').

2. Does your OC believe that it is important to love themselves in the first instance? Perhaps in order to be able to give and receive love authentically? Or because they believe first and foremost in "looking after number one"?

Hmm, I think both are more or less in agreement on this one in that it can certainly help, but is not an absolute necessary prerequisite. neither one are terribly high on the "looking after number one" scale however lol. My farmer probably has the sturdier base of self love and Rrahna's higher on the self-sacrifice scale, but they're both relatively close in both.

3. Does your OC judge themselves by the same standards as they apply to others? Or are they sometimes hypocritical in condemning others for faults they also possess? Or perhaps they find it easier to forgive others for things that they cannot abide in themselves?

for Rrahna: hahaha absolutely not. Rrahna would never dream of holding anyone up to the standards that she feels she has to meet as the Warrior of Light. everyone else is allowed to be mortal. she has to be invincible, fearless, tireless, never wavering. absolutely none of that is true, but she does her very best to make it appear that way at great detriment to herself for the sake of everyone else's peace of mind.

my farmer's a bit more balanced on it. they have a moral code they hold themself to, and anyone who veers too far off of that is going to get judged for it, but she puts in more wiggle room for people who are not her. the judgement does tend to be silent, however. usually.

4. Which of your OC's qualities makes them the most proud? Do they think more people should be like them in this regard? Or do they quite like being rare in possessing it?

Rrahna is most proud of her skills as a monk (all IC, alas, I can't play monk well to save my life lol) because it's something she learned first from her father and is her strongest remaining link to him. while she tends to bring a scythe into battles these days, she would never let her skills slip. She is always a monk, first and foremost. And while she'd certainly like the practice to be less rare (and strongly supports the rebuilding of the Fist of Rhalgr), she certainly doesn't think it's for everyone.

my farmer is most proud of two things: 1) their ability to grow things, and 2) their mindset of seeing all people as just... people and fundamentally equal (although they acknowledge that for the general functioning of society some positions must be given a certain measure of respect, she does not feel it fundamentally places any given person over another). They very much support the spreading of both of those things. they anticipate a great many arguments with Darius on point 2, but they have centuries to work on him. Granted, he'll have those same centuries to work on her, so they might both end up budging at least slightly, but time will tell. her plan involves subtle nudges combined with stubbornly treating everyone like an equal. on point 1.... they know that eventually they'll probably have to deal with bodyguards. they plan to teach the bodyguards how to garden. please imagine a hulking demon guard trying to awkwardly hold a too-small watering can.

5. Has your OC always had the same opinion of themselves or has this changed over time? Have they learned to love themselves - perhaps with the help of others - as their journey progressed? Or have the consequences of their actions only served to erode their sense of self-worth?

ahaha, feel a bit like I covered this in some of the other questions. for the sake of my wrists, I may let those bits and pieces stand as the answer

[makeroomforthejolyghost]

do you know what still kinda weirds me out?--maybe even pisses me off?

when i found out i was got diagnosed as autistic, two different brain doctors went out of their way to tell me how sorry they were it took so long to uncover this truth, how much it musta sucked to struggle w/ this disorder* for 24 years with no words for the problems it caused me and no strategies to mitigate them. they were, of course, wrong; i downplayed my knowledge of autism out of fear that if i seemed to seek a diagnosis they’d think that in my answers i was following a script,** but i’d suspected i was autistic for almost four years at that point. besides which it was 2017, so, if anything the official DX made me less sure

now, in 2019, whenever i come out to people (incl. the same psychiatrist), same deal. lots and lots about how much i must’ve suffered, and, what can we do to make this easier for you?--&c.

but in 2018, when i went to get my dysautonomia diagnosis all confirmed and official*** and to request medication for it: all business. lots of flattering jokes about how i obviously knew how to handle myself--how it’s not dangerous as long as you don’t do anything stupid. that kinda thing. which is fine? i prefer that! joking around but also giving me meds is great!**** it’s just weird, because... 

well, because it’s not weird. i’ve literally never had to have a Feelings Talk w/ a doctor about a diagnosis that wasn’t also an Identity Label (like transgender, autistic). not even in 2011, when i first went to see a psychiatrist and sobbed for half an hour about being depressed. and i mean i can see why they’d feel more responsibility to assure me of their support, when the thing about me they have to acknowledge is so socially loaded? just, in my case it happens not to be necessary, so it embarrasses me a little. but beyond that it seems extra incongruous to me because... well! if you’ve been following me long enough to remember 2017? then you’ll know that dysautonomia is the #1 Big-Deal thing that’s ever happened to me, and that year’s depression is a close second.*

so it’s Incredibly Fucking Weird, now that i keep having to come out to people, how they all act like being trans is obviously the most important thing about/that’s ever happened to my body. tho maybe i’m the one who’s weird? like, i’m 100% certain there are many chronically ill trans people whose dysphoria blows their pain/fatigue/illness out of the water on their mental lists of Things That Bother Them. it’s just... so weird to hear that humbled tone. (from healthy cisses, i mean.) 

don’t get me wrong, it feels weird when they do it about the illness too!** but in my experience, chronic illness is worse than people generally think it is--so that like, when people say they Can’t Even Imagine what it would be like, a small part of me thinks, no, you can’t. and somehow i get a way bigger jolt of absurdity when people say they Can’t Even Imagine an experience (like, for me, transness or autism) to which my mental response when they try is more like, well, probably not, but you needn’t, really.

*i think that’s the word they used? possibly also “condition”

**in case anyone’s reading this who doesn’t know me very well: i did not. often when trying on labels i go out of my way to catalogue the ways in which i diverge from the narrative, because Honesty Scruples. oh--also i should mention, my psychiatrist recommended autism screening to me w/out my ever having brought it up. i had kinda just decided not to pick that battle

***rather than just “yeah, some people have this problem sometimes,” and a list of poorly-typed facts about orthostatic hypotension my (other) doctor printed out from the internet

****incidentally, that’s what the hormone guy did when i came out to him, too.

*before 2017, the 2010-11 bout of depression came in second.

**never seem to act that way about depression, for some reason. maybe because to non-depressed people (incl. current me), depression tends to sound more like a logical error than a unique experience?--like, personally, i find my memories of 2017 only make sense when i think of depression as an altered state of consciousness. if i try to recall my thoughts of the time i just get bored, but if i read something from then and can still remember the day i wrote it i can reinhabit the mindset in a way that makes sense.

[katsukidynam1ght]

about me/info post! (long)

intro: hi! first things first: call me kats. that's not my real name (obviously), but my actual identity is none of your business, so that's a suitable alternative and one i rather enjoy. and no, i'm not putting my age in my bio. that's also not your business, but suffice it to say i'm an adult.

any pronouns work, so don't feel like you have to ask about that because i genuinely could not care less. what you refer to me as does not change anything about my identity, so hey! no misgendering possible, you don't get to dictate who i am so there's no use trying.

current project: Incipient/Combat Fatigue (a bakugou-centric, angst-with-a-happy-ending, krbkdk fic! no link yet but there will be soon!)

request info:

i take requests and will write most things! if i’m not willing to write it i will let you know, so don’t be afraid to request something (even if it’s anonymous!) for fear of judgment. i’m open-minded and have no fav ships, so just because you’ve seen me do kiribaku or shinkami already does not mean that’s the only thing i write. (rambles about poly class a at length and forever)

in terms of content limits it’s hard to say what’s a firm line for me and what i may write depending on circumstances, so i’m not going to list that here. it’ll just be a case-by-case basis.

however! one thing i am not capable of writing is any character x reader content. i know a lot of people like that, but if that’s what you want, i’m not your guy. i prefer to stick to canon, and i refuse to read any x reader myself, so if that’s your request, just know i can’t compromise on that. (this also goes for self-insert or y/n type stuff. you do you but that makes me gag.)

my current project will always take priority over any requests i receive, but that does not mean that i won't ever get to requests! just means that if i'm in the middle of a project, i won't drop it to write you a fic (unless you're going to pay me. /hj i might negotiate that.)

i feel the need to state that while i do not currently have any (as far as i can remember??) nsfw content on my blog, it may not stay that way. i will tag things appropriately and add necessary disclaimers, but if you want to strictly avoid any potential nsfw stuff, just be a little wary. knowing myself it’s far more likely that if i Do write anything nsfw, it’ll be on my ao3, but i think this is an important disclaimer to add just in case.

remember that i am a writer but i am doing this in my spare time while working for an education, so unless you're willing to fund that, you don't get to decide how i run my blog.

tag info:

i don't know how tumblr works. that's my disclaimer right here because this shit makes no sense to me. but tagging is important (?) so i have a few tags that i use a lot (when i remember), so here's info on those:

"kats asks" - these are posts that involve my ask box!

"kats rambles" - me, rambling. that's really it. this counts as one because it's long and mostly me going on and on about things.

"kats rants" - me, ranting. this is for the rambles that are angry. (if you start a fight with me on these i'll fight back. fair warning.)

“kats updates” - updates on me personally. so if you care about me beyond the screen, check this tag. if not then uh. ow /j

“kats writing list” - the list of posts i want to write later. would save to my drafts but i’ve saved a shit ton of spoiler posts that i want to read after i’m caught up, so uh. yeah

pretty self-explanatory. if i add more tags in the future i'll (hopefully) update this. (and please for the love of fuck if you know how to use tumblr and anything about all of this. tell me. i'm begging)

extra (probably important):

tone is a little funky online so i use tone tags (/j, /s, /gen, all that stuff) when i feel it's necessary (and please feel free to use them back at me because holy hell). if you're unfamiliar with them just ask, i'm not shy. i got the brain weird so i do what i've gotta do to not sound like an asshole all the time.

that said: i am sometimes an asshole. not in the bigoted sense, just in the "if you disagree with me about [fandom topic] i will rant at you about it and you opened that can of worms so you can lie in it" type sense. feel me?

gist is, if you tell me you don't want confrontation, we're chill! i am a nice person most of the time and am always willing to have a civil discussion. but i get dopamine and adrenaline from arguing so sometimes a little discourse is fun, and if you come at me sounding like you want a fight, i reserve the right to fight back for as long as it pleases me and then tap out when i get bored.

i don't really do the whole "DNI if" thing (see above). it's like this: anyone can interact with me, but if you interact with me, you're saying i can interact back, and if you don't like it, that's not my problem. i realize this may make me sound unsympathetic or like a dick (oops) but hey! c'est la vie. you're responsible for your own online experience; it's not my job to police you and if you don't like my content that's not my problem.

basically just tell me if you're coming at me from an angle of "hey i want to be mutuals and discuss things in a polite and open-minded way" or from an angle of "hey i think your takes are fucking stupid, you wanna go?"

also, if you insult me, chances are i will not understand the insult (i'm stupid /j), so it's best not to bother. but i can't stop you and hate is funny so i'll probably just make fun of you back. (if you're gonna throw hands you better be prepared to catch 'em ykwim)

but at the end of the day this is just a series and has no real life impact on me so y'know. i won't take it too seriously if you don't and we can walk away without being offended or hurt.

other info: if you want to know more about me or want something included here, feel free to leave a message in my inbox!

i've got a couple ask games on my blog here and here, and i'll try to remember to update this if i add more.

[leonawriter]

Since When Do Kami Care About Gender, Anyway?

Directory for all your trans Chuuya with a kid needs. May include literal fluff.

Please note that there are fics rated M due to mature themes such as discussed abortion, teenagers (soukoku) being referred to as sexually active, teen pregnancy, and more, including of course the expected tropes that go with Dazai himself (self harm, suicide, etc.), so please read all of these with that in mind.

Posting order is recommended reading order.

Main AU:

You Can’t Tell Me We Don’t Have History - Retelling of the infamous dungeon scene. 

Spring and Chances - An eighteen year old Chuuya realises he’s pregnant, but only after Dazai’s already long gone. Him coming to terms with this, and convincing himself and others that he wants to keep it.

Stale and Dismal Airs - Chuuya’s first use of Corruption in the AU. Also, why Corruption and binders don’t mix. (Note: not Stormbringer compliant, as this was written before that was released.)

Trust Fall - The Lovecraft and Dead Apple dragon fights, from Chuuya’s perspective. Includes some minor misgendering in a flashback.

As He Plays, Rain Falls - Short stories set in between Spring and Chances (when Chuuya is eighteen, and Fumiya is born) and Outbreak of Hostilities, focusing on Chuuya’s side of things. 

Bound - The events of Fifteen, and how things are (and aren’t) different. (Content warning: the Sheep are as emotionally manipulative as in canon, and there is now also some transphobia in there.)

Telling Tales - Dazai in the present day looks after a young girl, and Chuuya sees his dad mode activated.

Outbreak of Hostilities - Great google moogly it’s all gone to shit- I mean. Uh. Dazai meets Fumiya. Chuuya’s not happy. Things get worse before they get better. Warning for Dazai’s suicidal ideation taking a dive.

Spring Winds After Rain - Short stories set after Outbreak of Hostilities.

So far that’s it for the fics, although at times I may update “As He Plays, Rain Falls” and “Spring Winds After Rain” as they’re more collections of short stories than ongoing multi-chapters.

Art:

(I need to check my tags for this, and there isn’t a massive amount. If you want to draw me anything, I’ll link it here.)

Fluffy Son AU:

This one is basically just the above, but... Dazai is a kitsune. This does affect things, though, such as the timeline, and because of that it is also a canon divergence.

Why Is My Son Fluffy?! - The main fic. Multi-chapter, so far ch.1 is up. Chuuya corners Dazai. There are misunderstandings. Fumiya... is fluffy.

Art: 

Baby Kit Fumiya

(Same goes as above, btw, if you wanna draw this smol half-kitsune kit, go for it.)

[stubbornness-and-spite]

Life Is A Risk But I Will Take It (Close My Eyes And Jump)

Julie and the Phantoms has stolen my entire heart. So here’s a short fic I wrote feat. nonbinary Julie, Spite’s song lyric title agenda, potentially a series

Summary: Julie has something to tell the boys

Characters: Julie, Luke, Reggie, Alex, other characters mentioned

Relationships: platonic Julie and everyone, slight implied Julie/Luke

Word Count: roughly 800

Warnings: referenced period typical transphobia? I’m not sure what typical would be for the 80’s-90’s, Implied that the boys aren’t super aware of trans people and have heard bad things, internalized transphobia/enbyphobia(but not a lot)

Notes: AO3 link in reblog (contains a bit more notes about the story) I based this fic a lot off of my own experiences. I never had a moment like this because I had my gender crisis when the pandemic hit so I came out to my friends over text, but my use of pronouns here is deliberate and based on my own internal monologue and reaction to my internal self-misgendering, particularly when I was still trying to figure things out.

If anyone has any suggestions, I might try to start a series of short fics about introducing the guys to 2020 queer culture/labels/sexualities.

~

Julie was unusually subdued heading into the studio that day. The boys were already there, absentmindedly fiddling with their instruments. They all perked up when Julie walked in.

“Julie!” They chorused.

“Hey, guys,” Julie responded. She bit her lip and shifted her weight back and forth. Julie winced.

“Hey, is something wrong?” Luke asked, setting his guitar down and making his way over. Making his way over to her. Julie winced again.

“Do you think-” She shook her head.

“Jules,” Reggie cut in. “Everything okay?”

Julie nodded and forced a smile. “Everything’s great, don’t worry about it.”

Alex set down his drumsticks. “No pressure, but you can tell us anything.”

Julie took a breath and started again. “Do you guys think you could try using they/them pronouns for me?”

There was a silence.

“What?” Reggie broke it.

“Never mind, it’s stupid,” Julie said, shaking her head. “Let’s just practice.”

“Hey,” Luke said softly. “We’re not saying no. We’re saying we don’t understand.”

“Oh,” Julie said. “It’s kind of complicated, but do you know about transgender people? People who are assigned one gender at birth, but they’re actually a different one?”

Luke and Alex winced. “Not really,” Alex said.

“Probably not the kind of things you’re thinking about,” Luke added.

“Yeah, actually,” Reggie said, looking off into the distance like he was trying to remember something. “I think my one aunt grew up as a boy. There were some old pictures of her in my parents’ house and she was wearing pants which my grandparents would have never put their daughter in.”

“Exactly!” Julie smiled. “She was a woman, but when she was born, doctors thought she was a boy.”

“Okay,” Luke said slowly. “What does this have to do with you? Are you saying you’re a guy? Or that people thought you were a guy?”

Julie laughed a little. “No, I just wanted to try using different pronouns to see how it would feel. I’m not sure right now. I think I might not be a guy or a girl.”

“Pronouns?” Alex asked, walking over to sit on the couch.

Julie nodded. “Like how yours are he/him. Alex plays the drums. He is very good. There are his drums. That hoodie looks nice on him .”

The boys nodded.

“And you want us to…” Luke trailed off.

“Use they/them for me?” Julie asked.

“How would that work?” Reggie asked, not really looking at Julie. “Like are there more than one of you?”

Julie winced slightly but covered it with a smile. “No, like, when you find a lost jacket but you don’t know whose it is, what would you say?”

“Someone lost a jacket?”

“Or someone lost their jacket,” Julie explained. “If you saw someone walking a dog but couldn’t see if the person was a guy or a girl and you wanted to point out the dog, you could say, ‘Look at their dog.’ ”

“So,” Luke hesitated. “Julie seems sad today and we want to help them feel better.”

Julie’s lower lip trembled.

“Julie’s one of my best friends and I’m so glad they’re in the band,” Alex said a bit more confidently.

“Uh, I think you mean you’re glad we’re in their band, dude,” Reggie corrected. “They’re the main attraction here.”

Julie’s eyes were wet. “Thank you, guys,” they said. “I really appreciate this.”

“Of course, Julie,” Luke said. “You do still want us to call you ‘Julie’, right?”

Julie nodded. “I like my name. And I’m not sure if I’m going to want to keep using they/them or if I’ll want to try other things too. For right now, she and they are both okay.”

Reggie nodded. “So, ‘Julie is great. They’re an amazing singer and she plays the piano well too?’ ”

“Yeah,” Julie said. “Exactly like that.” She paused. “Oh, um. I haven’t come out to Carlos, or my dad, or Flynn, or anyone else yet, so if you could only use ‘they’ when no one’s around that can hear you?”

Alex grinned. “That’s most of the time, Julie.”

“Duh,” Julie said, hitting their forehead with their hand. “I knew that.”

“You told us first?” Reggie asked. He grinned at Alex and Luke. “Guys, they really do love us!”

Julie tried to scowl but they were smiling too hard for it to have any weight. “You know I love you. Now let’s stop wasting time and practice!”

Reggie and Alex grinned and jumped up, Reggie to grab his bass and Alex to grab his drumsticks. Luke lingered by Julie for a moment.

“You know we care about you, right?” he asked softly. “And making sure you’re happy is never a waste of time?”

“I know,” Julie said with a smile. “I know.”

[lyrick-buffpuff]

A Lyrick Portfolio

Some of my best/favourite works put into a post for zine applications.

Under the cut are these fics, in order with links, desc, & tags: 1. The Negotiation Gone Wrong, A LoV Fam Fic 2. Shigaraki’s Favourite Game, A ShigaDabi Fic 3. In The Shadows, An Aizawa-Centric Fic 4. Comfort, A Sero/Kaminari Fic 5. Unwavering, A Nao-Centric Fic 6. Big Sis Mag, A Magne Character Study/Backstory Exploration 7. Painted Devotion, A Spinaraki Fic 8. Wounded, A Shinso/Ojiro Fic 9. Sparkle, A Aoyama & Monoma Friendship Fic

The Negotiation Gone Wrong BNHA - League of Villains - Canon-Compliment Words: 3,939 Characters: Shigaraki Tomura, Kurogiri, Mr. Compress, Magne, Twice, Toga, Spinner, Dabi Ship: Gen/Fam Fic CW: Violence (mostly canon-typical), Blood, Death, Knives Description: The League is formally invited to forge an alliance with another group. Tomura doesn't like their tone nor the assumption they made about the League's true goals. He will deliver the message personally. But what happens when he finds out he was lied to about the real reason he received an invitation?

Shigaraki’s Favourite Game BNHA - League of Villains - Canon-Divergence Words: 4,937 Characters: Shigaraki Tomura, Dabi, Kurogiri, Mr. Compress, Toga Himiko, Twice, Spinner, Big Sis Magne Ship: ShigaDabi CW: Eh. basically 100% Fluff, humor, and slight agitation. Small drug mention later tho [like very smol]. Decsription:  Dabi is sent to go wake Tomura up, he fuckin’ overslept again. Only when he gets up there, Tomura hadn't overslept. And Dabi wouldn't believe what he saw if he hadn't seen it. If he wasn't in love with the asshole before, he definitely was now.

In The Shadows BNHA - Pro-Heroes - Canon-Divergence Words: 1,369 Characters: Aizawa, Oboro, Kurogiri, Sero Ship: Gen/Friend Fic CW: Mentions of Death, Thought Loops, Introspection, sorta a Hurt/Comfort Description: Aizawa speaks to both Shirakumo and Kurogiri once more in a time of need. Feeling immensely alone and trapped trying to figure out what he should do, he talks to them.

Comfort BNHA - UA Students - Canon-Dviergence Words: 1,125 Characters: Sero, Denki, Tamaki, Mina, Kirishima Ship: Sero/Kaminari  CW: Canon-Typical Violence, Injuries, Mentions of Anxiety, Mentions of Medication, Panic Attack, Hurt/Comfort, Angst Outtake: “I ran back.” Denki’s voice is soft and rough. The look of self-deprecation increases as the darkness in Denki’s eyes grows. “After I came to, all I saw was fighting and everyone’s quirks flying without rhyme or reason. I couldn’t focus on what was happening and I got scared and- and I just ran. I ran away like a fucking coward. I was supposed-” Hanta shakes his head, he feels the colour drain from his face. “Denki. Look at me.”

Unwavering  BNHA - Civilians - Canon-Divergence/Canon-AU Words: 634 Characters: Nao Shimura, Mako, Chizuo Ship: N/A CW: feelings of not being supported Description: Nao's parents try to talk her out of a decision she's not going to change.

Big Sis Mag BNHA - League of Villains - Canon-Compliment/Divergence Words: 2,256 Characters: Magne, Toga Himiko, Twice, Mr. Compress, Shigaraki Tomura, Spinner, Dabi, Kurogiri Ship: Gen/Fam Fic CW: Misgendering, Dysfunctional Family, Canon-Typical Violence, Backstory Exploration Description:  A life of social chains weighed Magne down until she broke free. Now that she's been able to fly, she's never going back to anything remotely like that life she once survived.

Painted Devotion BNHA - League of Villains - Canon-Divergence Words: 2,187 Characters: Spinner, Shigaraki Tomura, Dabi, Toga Himiko, Mr. Compress, Twice Ship: Spinaraki CW: Fluff. That’s it. Straight up gaymer fluff. Description/Outtake: Spinner thinks about his devotion to Shigaraki and proceeds to get teased by Dabi and Toga. ~~~ “A few days ago, I came to a realization, of sorts.” “Is that so?” “Yeah. I, uh… I wish I were the slightest bit inclined in the arts, in painting.” “And why is that, Shuichi?”

Wounded BNHA - UA Students - Canon-Divergence Words: 1,778 Characters: Shinso, Ojiro, Aizawa, Recovery Girl, Dabi Ship: ShinOji CW: Injured Cat. Fluff. Soft confessions.  Outtake: “You’re running late too? What were you doing off campus?” The uncontrollable urge to smile hits Shinso, almost making him trip. The tailed hero student smiles. “Visiting my parents for the weekend; and you?” “Visiting Eri.” Ojiro does a once over before suppressing a chuckle. “Are you smuggling something in your bag there or are you trying to fix your awful back posture?” Shinso gives the other a huff of laughter.

Sparkle BNHA - UA Student - Canon-Compliment Words: 867 Characters: Aoyama, Monoma, Denki Ship: Gen/Friend Fic Description/Outtake:  Monoma and Aoyama converse over a meal together. Monoma's slightly surprised at how much he likes mingling with the competition. ~~~ Aoyama claps. “You brought the non-alcoholic wine!” Kaminari’s smile falters to Monoma’s enjoyment, but only for a second. “Aoyama, I didn’t know I was supposed to buy anything fancy, you shoulda told me! I thought you preferred this kind…” In a moment of graciousness, Monoma waves Kaminari’s worries off. “You are correct. That is his favourite. We’re just higher class than you. Only peasants refer to non-alcoholic wine as ‘juice’. But of course, you wouldn’t know that, now would you?”

[thechildoflightning]

The Kübler-Ross Model Ch2- Anger

Title: The Kübler-Ross Model [Masterpost]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: background LAMP, Elliot/Mitchell

~~~

Chapter Title: Anger- Chapter Two

Summary: 

Stage Two: Anger- Characterized by high energy and coped up frustrations that begin to pour out by lashing out at others or yourself.

In which Remy is angry about everything.

Warnings: Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Verbal Fights, Toxic Relationships (hinted at), Transphobia (mentioned), Exclusionary Rhetoric (mentioned), Ableism

[ao3 link]

~~~

Anger- Chapter Two

“Selected: Voicemail. One item. Tab one of one,” Remy’s phone says, sounding almost bitter. Remy sighs, at this point already knowing who it’s from. He puts his finger to the screen, sliding it around as he searches for the desired section.

“Voicemail.”

One finger down.

“Daniel Zurko. M-”

Double tap.

“Remy. This is childish and has gone on way too long. I canceled the credit card. I expect you to call me so we can get you home. I get that you’re upset, but this is not the way to deal with it. You think I’m the bad guy but I am doing what’s best for you Remy, I always have. You need to grow up. You’re an adult now, act like one. Call me. Come home. Now.”

-

Moving into the dorms is a surprisingly low-key event. Remy gets to move in early, as does Kai, so they're not trying to get things done in the time most of the freshman are piling in. It’s a lot nicer that way. They don’t have people on top of them- actually they have pretty much no one on top of them- and that lowers Remy’s stress by a lot.

Except, this definitely wasn’t something he’s stressing about.

Okay, maybe he's been stressing about it a little bit.

It’s well- it’s just this an entire new place and the campus is huge. He’s visited a few times now to start getting a layout, but he knows it’s going to take weeks before he can find his way around with ease. It’s nice to start on that when no one else is here yet. It gives Remy space and he feels a little bit less self-conscious.

(It’s stupid that he feels self-conscious at all, he shouldn’t, but he does, so there’s that).

Kai and him get their dorm set up and decorated as well.

Or well- it’s mostly Remy setting things up while Kai comments snarkily from the corner that the bed doesn’t line up perfectly. (They had to move everything a bit to make space for Cha-Cha). Remy doesn’t really mind because it’s nice to see Kai relaxing. He seemed uncomfortable and unsure when he admitted that he couldn’t do any of the heavy lifting, so Remy takes the return to teasing as a good sign.

They decorate the dorm next and it’s fun and it’s easy and Remy’s really thinking he’s found a friend in Kai. 

Then Kai falls silent.

“Kai?” Remy asks when he stops making comments every two seconds.

“Yeah?”

“You good?”

Kai hesitates and Remy frowns. Remy’s about to ask a follow up question, but Kai beats him to speaking.

“Hey so, I brought two pride flags. I was hoping I could put them up in our room.”

Oh.

“Of course,” Remy says easily.

“I- yeah?”

“Yeah. Kai we’re literally in gender-inclusive dorming right now. But I mean, even if we weren't, yeah of course you can,” Remy insists, voice firm and even.

“Okay,” Kai says. He relaxes. “Okay.”

The tension in the room evaporates and Remy breathes out.

“Which flags?” he asks, curiosity peaking.

“Trans and demiboy,” Kai tells him.

Remy didn’t know you could be both trans and a demiboy. But that's probably better to google than to bug Kai with right now.

“I didn’t know there was a demiboy flag,” he admits.

The comment seems to perk Kai up and he explains to him the dark grey-grey-blue-white-and reverse of the demiboy flag. The two of them hang the flags up together. 

Kai gives him a hard time about hanging one up the wrong way and it takes Remy a solid minute to remember that both flags are reversible. He flips Kai off and scowls. Kai just laughs. The conversation turns casual once more.

“Oh!” Kai says at one point, moving quickly to sift through a bag on the other side of the room, “I got a thing and you can tell me if you hate the thing and if so I can return it, but you said that you have some light perception so…” he trails off.

There was a pause for a moment where neither of them said anything.

“Thoughts?” Kai eventually asks again.

“On?” 

“Ah man- you can’t see it?”

“Don’t know if we’ve talked about this yet but I’m blind actually,” Remy snarks back.

Kai groans.

“No just- okay catch.”

“Please tell me you’re not about to chuck something at a blind person Kai.”

The object lands softly next to him on the bed. Remy doesn’t know if that was intentional, or if Kai just failed to hit him. Either way Remy sighs and picks it up. The object is a box and has a thin circular button at one corner, but he still has no clue what it is.

“They’re fairy lights,” Kai explains, “Sorry. You said that you liked light and I thought you’d be able to see it because you said that you could see light.”

“Some light,” Remy says. He holds it up to his eyes and now he can barely see little tiny specs of light. “And I can kinda see it now. Is the box completely clear?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Uh…”

“I told you I liked light. You went out of your way to get fairy lights for our dorm. It’s an awesome idea, not your fault my eyes don’t work.”

“Yeah but the gift kind of failed.”

“Well if you like them we can still keep them. And if not- well you said you can return them? Depending on where they’re from we can see if we can find fairy lights I can actually see,” Remy suggests.

“Oh my gosh we could- there was a ton of options.”

Remy nods and stands up.

“Okay, where too?”

“Right now?” Kai asks.

“I mean it depends on where you got these, but yeah? I mean we have the time.”

That they do, now that they’ve mostly finished.

“Target. So there’s gotta be one locally.”

They spend a few minutes online, figure out the address, and then Remy’s getting up to go. He gets Cha-Cha in her harness and grabs his things before opening the door for a swing and waiting for Kai. Kai joins him at the door, hesitates for a second, and then grabs something right next to the door. At first Remy thinks it’s the bag, but Kai’s already holding that. Remy exits after him.

“I have a cane,” Kai says quietly. Which okay- that was the object by the door.

“Okay,” Remy says. “Do you want to take the bus?”

“No.”

Remy listens. He knows if it were him, he would just want somebody to listen.

“Okay. Where’s the Target?” 

Kai takes the lead and they’re off.

The Target is massive. But also Remy’s depth perception is shit so maybe it’s that but he’s pretty sure this is the largest Target he’s ever seen. By a lot.

“Holy shit this place is huge,” Kai remarks.

Remy murmurs his agreement. He hadn’t really known what living in a college town would mean. He’s starting to think he understands.

They make a beeline for the fairy lights which take up almost an entire aisle. They mess around, pressing all the buttons to light them up and see what their options are.

“I can’t see any of these,” Remy admits after a while, “The lights in here are too bright. But brighter and bigger is better, so if you find something that-”

“Remy there’s rainbow ones. Come here, come here, they’re shaped like rainbows.”

“We’re getting those.”

“They’re not that bright.”

“I literally do not care.”

They get the rainbow-shaped ones.

They head back- both a bit too excited about the rainbow-shaped lights to be considered socially acceptable. But also fuck socially acceptable so whatever. They’re adults and they can enjoy fairy lights. Step off.

Kai and him are talking when he suddenly stops and leaves Remy’s side.

“Hi,” Kai says, “Are you moving in today too?”

“I- uh- yeah- hi,” a person stutters.

“Oh cool! I’m Kai. He/they pronouns but he right now.” The jingling noise that follows is indication that Kai holds up his pronouns necklace. “And this is my roommate.”

It takes a second to long for Remy to realize he’s supposed to introduce himself. 

“I’m Remy,” he says, turning to face the stranger. “He/him.” 

Something inside of him clenches hard when he says those words. Clenches hards, grips his heart, and burns. It burns so much, choking Remy that he almost misses the strangers next words.

“I’m Elliot,” the now not-stranger says, “They/them.”

“Nice to meet you Elliot,” Kai says.

They don’t get must further in conversation because another person speaks up.

“El, hon? Who’s this?”

“I’m Kai, he/they, he right now. This is Remy, he/him. We just moved in here across the hall.”

“Oh you get to do that whole move in early stuff too? You’re blind, right?”

The second question is obviously directed at Remy, so he answers both.

“Yeah and yeah.”

“Huh. Well I’m Mitchell, I’m his boyfriend.”

A boyfriend who just misgendered their partner apparently. But Elliot doesn't say anything and Remy just met them so he doesn’t say anything either.

“Uh, nice to meet you,” Remy offers. Kai offers the same pleasantries.

“Okay. Well Elliot, we should get to finish moving you in. You still have a lot of stuff and if you’re going to make me help you I don’t want to be here all day.”

“If you need to go you can,” Elliot says.

“What, you trying to get rid of me already? Plus come on, you’re not going to be able to do it all yourself. And you’re wasting time. Let’s go.”

“Okay,” Elliot says, “Yeah.”

“He’ll talk to you later,” Mitchell tells the two of them.

“I- Right,” Kai says, “Well, Elliot I- we’re just down the hall. 204. So, anytime, pop by, yeah?”

“Yeah alright I-”

“Yeah he might, bye.”

“Elliot seems nice. But Mitchell doesn’t seem like the nicest guy,” Kai comments when the other two have presumably exited earshot. Remy gives a shrug and a slight nod in response. He pulls out his key and finds the lock on their door before pushing it open with a swing.

“Fairy lights?” he asks.

“Fairy lights,” Kai agrees.

Remy still ends up not being able to see them all that well- though they were certainly better than the first set. But rainbows, so he counts it as a win.

When they’ve finished decorating their room, Remy relaxes on his bed and pulls out his phone. He plugs in his headphones and opens google. Kai had both the trans and demiboy flags. Remy wants to know what that means.

He researches a lot about being non-binary and trans and he reads a lot about the exclusionist who demand you have to be identify as binary and experience crippling gender dysphoria to be considered trans. Everyone else is just faking or special or being dramatic. He thinks of Kai and he frowns. He ignores the exclusionists.

He finds celebrations of being trans and non-binary and being happy that way. He finds non-binary people who consider themselves trans and others who don’t. He finds the range of non-binary from androgynous presentation to falling to the extreme sides of masculine or feminine. He learns that people can also be assholes about that, about how many people expect non-binary people to look “watered down male.” He learns that non-binary looks like anything and everything. He finds people who are trans that use all sorts of labels. He finds people who are trans and are binary. He finds people who are trans with all levels of fluctuating dysphoria, stages of transition- including not transitioning at all, and more.

He learns that there’s so many more ways to be trans than he previously thought.

He hates it.

He hates it because it means something to him, means something to him more than just being an ally. 

The transgender umbrella is amazing and beautiful and there’s so many people who have so many experiences, some they share, some they don’t. It’s a wonderful community and it’s gorgeous and Remy-

He’s angry.

He’s so fucking angry. Because he’s Remy and he’s a boy and he’s eighteen and he’s lived this way his entire life and this is who he is he’s Remy and he’s a cis guy and-

And what if he isn’t?

He squeezes his phone tightly in his hand. Hard enough apparently that Kai asks if anything’s wrong. He starts to answer no when he gets a phone call. From his dad.

He hits ignore angrily and stands up, shoving his phone in his pocket.

“I’m going for a walk,” he announces, and barely takes the time to grab his shoes before he’s slamming the door behind him. He doesn’t even bother with Cha-Cha, grabbing his cane instead.

-

That first week goes fast and soon enough everyone else moves in. They meet a few people, and start talking to Elliot. When Mitchell’s not around Elliot’s really funny. When Mitchell is around they short of shut down and Remy hates it. A little fire burns in his chest each time it happens. 

They go to the freshman movie night and both Elliot and Kai are already learning to give a shitty description of what’s going on on screen and they all laugh and the people next to them hiss at them to be quiet. It’s okay. It’s nice.

Before long, classes start and Remy remembers how frustrating it can all be.

He’s been working with disability services since he committed to the school. Over the years he’s learned that early is almost always better, because everything just takes time and then there’s issues and delays,  it’s a long process. 

It’s also Remy’s first time doing this alone and he makes mistakes and he feels like an idiot and he can’t help but hate his dad a little bit because he’s been asking to do some of this himself for years now, to get used to it, get some practice. His dad had always refused and now Remy is woefully underprepared. 

It reminds himself of when he was first going blind. When everything was new and confusing and he constantly felt lost and alone. 

It’s been years since he felt like that. 

He doesn’t like feeling like that. 

He figures the accommodations out in the end and gets the things he needs to set up. Note taker, permission to record, extra time, accessibility devices approved, and requests to all his professors to have things ready and accessible. It should all be good to go. But, there’s of course hiccups because there always is. And a week into school, he still doesn’t have notes from one of his classes.

It’s absolutely infuriating.

Because now he has a paper to write and he has to listen to the entirety of three separate lectures to find the things he needs.

It sucks and it’s unfair and time consuming and Remy hates it. He clenches a fist as he pauses the recording and goes back once more. 

It’s something so small but it makes him so goddamn frustrated.

He plays it again but he can’t hear it this time because at that exact moment Kai laughs from his corner of the room where he’s skyping his girlfriend.

He pauses the recording.

“Can you be quieter?” he hisses out, “I’m trying to write a paper.”

“Yeah. Sorry Rem. Want me to put in headphones?”

It’s a nice offer.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Kai agrees. He gasps a bit when he stands, pauses for a moment. Remy doesn’t restart his recording and listens, slightly concerned. But Kai moves after a moment, grabbing his headphones from the desk next to Remy. He’s limping slightly.

When he returns to his bed and has the headphones in, Remy takes a breath and presses play.

And pauses a moment later because Kai’s a bit too loud again. It’s unfair- Remy knows it is- because Kai’s really not that loud. But it’s loud enough to be distracting and Remy cannot deal with this tonight.

“Can you shut up?” he snaps.

“...I ...Uh?”

Remy is so angry.

“Whatever. Forget it,” he huffs. He saves his work and shuts his laptop with a snap. He shoves it, his braille display, and the recorder in his bag. He grabs his phone and shoves it in his pocket. Grabbing his bag he heads for the door. He barely spends the time to get Cha-Cha in her harness.

“Remy- come on- wait-”

“I’m going out,” he hisses. The door slams behind him. It seems to be doing that a lot lately.

“Oh hey Remy,” Elliot says almost the moment he’s out the door. 

“I’m going to the library,” Remy grumbles and moves past them. 

“Okay,” Elliot says, running a few paces to catch up with him, “Can I join you? I have this thing for religions and-”

“No. You can’t join me,” Remy snarls, and pulls away. 

Elliot stops, stumbling for words behind him. Remy leaves them behind. He doesn’t feel bad. He doesn’t.

He goes to the library and finds a corner that’s empty. He sets his things up and tries to focus. 

He still can’t. 

He had to keep rewinding and replaying the lecture because he still doesn’t have the notes even though he was told he’d start receiving them a week ago. He checked again the other day and he was told he’d definitely have them by today. 

He doesn’t have the notes. 

He doesn’t know what to do. 

He’s mad and he’s angry and he’s frustrated and he’s so pissed and he thinks it’s a bit extreme but definitely not unreasonable. He hates this. Hates it. 

He used to hate being blind. Over the years he’s learned that’s not the part that frustrates him. It was scary at the time, sure. But losing his sight wasn't the upsetting part- the upsetting part was being in a world who wasn’t willing to meet his needs. A world that was certainly able to meet his needs, or attempt to if they really couldn’t, but wasn’t willing to even try.

It’s ableism that he hates, not being blind.

With a sigh he packs up his things. He’s not getting anything else done tonight. He pulls out his phone and messes around with it a bit, trying to ward off the creeping frustrations that are starting to overwhelm him. He feels choked up and he’s not sure why. 

Then he gets a call.

For a millisecond he thinks it might be Kai. 

God he was a dick to Kai wasn’t he? If Kai’s calling him Remy can apologize. He can make things right and things will be fine. It’s fine. 

It’s his dad. 

Remy chucks his phone. 

It’s extreme and so fucking stupid but he’s suddenly furious and he doesn’t know what to do about it. His phone goes skittering across the floor and the two people quietly murmuring near him fall silent. Remy sighs and hates himself a little bit.

He takes a breath.

It doesn't help.

He takes another.

It doesn’t help. Nothing’s helping.

He has Cha-Cha get his phone.

When she brings it back to him he checks it for cracks and then goes to his contacts. He finds the one he needs and double taps to call.

The phone rings twice before it’s answered.

“Hey,” Remy saus, “I- can I spend the night at your place?”

“Yes,” is Virgil’s immediate response, “Are you safe? Do you want a ride? I’m not home right now but I can text Patton.”

Remy checks the time. It’s not too late. The cool air will probably do him good anyways.

“I’m safe,” he confirms, “No to the ride. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay,” Virgil says. He pauses, “Love you Remy.”

Something burns in his throat.

“Okay. Okay yeah,” Remy chokes out. He hangs up and blinks back tears, refusing to cry. He wants to scream. He doesn’t- everything’s just so much right now and he doesn’t know what he’s feeling anymore.

He packs his things up. Grabs Cha-Cha. Heads to Virgil’s apartment.

On his way there a random person grabs him by his shoulder and asks him if he needs help. He grits out a terse “no.” He gets a “well you don’t have to be rude about it. I was trying to help!” Remy’s teeth grit further, making an odd little screeching noise and causing pain to run all throughout his mouth. He doesn’t risk saying anything more, and just pushes past the stranger.

He knocks on the door when he arrives. He still has a key, but doesn’t really feel like digging through his bag. 

It’s Patton who greets him.

Remy shuffles off his shoes at the door, mind blurring. He hears Patton say something about Virgil and the library, he should've texted you- but Remy misses all the details.

“Hey Remy, are you okay?”

Remy is not.

He’s going to tell Patton he’s fine. He is. He promises he is.

He doesn’t end up saying that, but even he isn’t expecting what he says next.

“Patton, how did you know you were trans?”

“Oh,” Patton says, “Oh.” 

And that’s when Remy finally bursts into tears.

~~~

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[meltiverse]

(22-H ficlet) Discovering the truth

Note: Looks like I’m deep into a MHA phase recently! Oh well! This is a ficlet on how Mel and Chizome met, and how they discovered the truth about each other. (Mel discovering that Chizome is Stain and Chizome learning about Mel’s quirk since she pretends to be quirkless)

So, I think I read somewhere that Chizome did work in retail at some points, since he would still need a way to make money. I don’t know if this was accurate, but I decided to go along with it anyways. Also, obviously this take place before Stain was arrested.

Warning: Even though there’s no actual sex in this one, there’s still mentions of sex. There’s also mentions of stalking/tracking, attempted sexual assault and mention of Mel being a cancer survivor. There’s also some strong language, a bit of violence, gore, blood and the death of a random “false hero”.  

Chizome allowed a sigh to escape him. He needed money, to buy food and pay his apartment. He wasn’t a thief, nor was he going to squat at some random place. As such, he had no other choice but find himself a job as a civilian, as Chizome. Thankfully, he found a job that was almost perfect for his needs; small retail store, night shift (4pm to midnight), Monday to Friday, a bit over minimum wage and a quick and discreet checkup at the place confirmed that there wasn’t any security cameras (The owner apparently being unable to afford both security cameras and paying his employees more than minimum wage and opting for the latter)… It was probably the best he could find.

Of course, Chizome had to make sure he wouldn’t be recognized, hence why he favored this small store. When he went to the job interview, he opted to tie his hair in a low ponytail, hid the lower part of his face under a surgical mask under the pretense that he had a “somewhat sensitive respiratory system” and wore black slacks, a dark red dress shirt and black buckle shoes. It seemed to work well enough, since he was hired, so he repeated it today, for his first shift.

When he arrived at the store, he was greeted by a person who was smiling sweetly at him.

“Ah, you must be the new employee! I remember seeing you when you came for your job interview. I’m the one who will oversee your training; you can call me Mel.”

Chizome couldn’t stop himself from smiling under his mask while he shook the hand they extended to him. Their handshake was firmer than he expected, but their voice was pretty much dripping genuine kindness, and Chizome liked that.

“First thing I always ask to new employees is what name they want to be called and what pronouns they identify with. Just to make completely sure to not accidentally misname or misgender anyone.

-You can call me Chizome… and “He” for my pronouns. What about you?

-Well, as I said, you can call me Mel, and I use both “She” and “They”, one or the other, I honestly don’t mind.”

For the next week or so, Mel oversee Chizome’s training, teaching him everything he need to know for this job. From 6pm to midnight, they were the only two employees and there aren’t too many customers, so he gets to talk to Mel and get to know them. What he learnt that he considered of interest was; they were quirkless, or rather, that’s what they said but Chizome had his doubts, there was something off in their voice when they said it. They made great homemade snacks and gladly shared them with him. They were a self-proclaimed and proud geek and nerd. They were a part of the LGBTQ+ community and moderately active fighting for their rights. They were a thyroid cancer survivor. Even thought they looked like they were in their mid 20’s, they were actually around his age, early 30’s. They moved from Canada to Japan about 5 years ago, for reasons they refused to mention.

After the training week, Chizome still saw Mel a few days a week, now that he was trained, they returned to their usual schedule of working from 4pm to 9pm, 3 days a week. Chizome knew he shouldn’t get close to them, it was dangerous both for him, to keep his secret identity and for them, if the fact that he was Stain ever came to light but he couldn’t stop himself. He was drawn to Mel.

One night, after another news report about “The Hero Killer”, Chizome and Mel had a pretty serous conversation about “Stain” and his ideologies. To his surprise, Mel not only understood his ideologies, but also wholeheartedly agreed with them.

“To tell you the truth, Chizome… I had my fair share of interactions with false heroes, back in Canada… It’s the main reason why I moved as far as I could, here, in Japan. I wanted a new start. Oh, I wish I was strong enough to get rid of them once and for all, but…

- Uh… I would have never expected that…

- Expected what?”

Chizome looked at Mel fondly. He was so tempted to tell them the truth, but it was far too dangerous. Getting close to them and becoming friends was already risky enough.

“You seem so kind and loving, I would’ve never expected you to support Stain’s ideologies too. To be honest, when I admitted supporting his ideologies, I expected you to… I don’t know… find it creepy, repulsive, or something like that?”

Mel giggled and rolled their eyes, an amused smile on their lips.

“Yeah, there’s a lot of things people don’t expect about me. Like that… or like the fact that I’m a pretty big fan of any horror-related medias. Movies, shows, video games, books, you name it. I always had an affinity for horror.”

Another week or so passed. One night, around 8 pm, someone barged in the store. And for the first time, he heard Mel swear.

“Fuck… Chizome, hide in the back store. That guy’s dangerous.”, they whispered to him.

But Chizome didn’t move. He knew the guy, he saw him on the tv, in a report on Canada’s top heroes.

“Goddamn Bitch! You really though you could run away from me? Have you any idea how much it cost me to track you down here? You’re lucky your quirk is so useful that I can’t kill you, but at least, I can beat the shit out of you. It’s not like it would change much anyways, you’re already fucking ugly…”

Chizome instinctively pushed Mel behind him, glaring at the other man.

“Leave. Now.”

The man sneered at Chizome.

“Oh, and who are you? Her new boyfriend? Sorry, bro, but her and her quirk belong to me. You had your fun, now she comes back with me.

- I said: Leave. Now.”

The man laughed sarcastically.

“Oh? And what are you going to do? Looks like you’re just a civilian, and I’m one of Canada’s top hero…

- I know who you are… a false hero.

- Whatever, man… Look, I just want Mel back, I need her quirk and I’d rather not fight a civilian for it. I’m sure I can beat you even if you got her boost and I don’t.

- What boost?”

The man looked surprised, but then started laughing again

“What, you mean you haven’t fucked her yet? I mean, I don’t blame you, she’s an ugly fatass after all, but then, why are you even with her?”

Chizome had enough. He instinctively attacked, not caring about revealing his identity to Mel anymore. The man didn’t even had time to react; the folding knife Chizome kept hidden in his sleeve now unfold in his hand, he slashed at the man, leaving a bloody cut. Less than a second later, the man was on the ground, paralyzed. Stain put his mask back in place as he had to free his mouth to be able to taste the man’s blood.

“What… what is going… on… release me… you sonofa…”

The man couldn’t finish his phrase. Stain kicked him in the face, breaking his nose and a few teeth, blood pouring out and making the man choke on it. Stain turned around to look at Mel. Their eyes were wide open, a hand covering their mouth in surprise.

“Close the store. Stay here. Don’t call the police.”

Chizome’s tone was sterner and more threatening that he wanted, but he needed Mel to stay there. He grabbed the man by the collar and dragged him through the door that led to the back alley. He chuckled darkly when imagining what would be on the news the next day, the confusion of a dead Canadian top hero being found in one of Japan’s back alley… Stain knocked the man out to stop him from sputtering more blood, dragged him to a different back alley, as to not link him to the store, and finished the job.

When Chizome returned to the store, he was pleasantly surprised that Mel was still there and that they closed the store as he asked. “We had to close earlier tonight due to technical difficulties. We apologize for the inconvenience.”, the message on the door read. Stain was gone long enough that if they had called the police, the police and some heroes would have already arrived by then. They even mopped the floor to clean the traces of blood the man left because of his broken nose and teeth. Mel was sitting on a counter, frowning. They gasped when they saw Chizome returning.

“Don’t be afraid. I have no intentions of hurting you.

- You’re… Chizome, you’re…

- Yes. I am Stain, The Hero Killer.”

Chizome removed his mask, letting Mel see the lower half of his face.

“It wasn’t my intention to involve you with this part of my life, but I couldn’t just let that false hero talk about you like that.

- Well, I’m glad that I got to learn the truth. And… thank you.

- So, I guess that’s what you meant when you said you had your fair share of interactions with false heroes… And it seems like I’m not the only one hiding information about myself…”

Mel smiled shyly before starting to explain. In their opinion, it was only fair, since Chizome had to reveal that he was Stain.

“As you may have guessed, I lied to you. I’m sorry. I’m not quirkless, but I wish I was. My quirk only brought me misery. For a long time, I had no idea what my quirk was. The doctor confirmed that I had one, that I wasn’t quirkless, but since the situation in which my quirk activates never happened so far at that time… I discovered what my quirk was with one of my first boyfriend. I was young, I was in love, I was stupid… I accepted to have sex with him… And we both found what my quirk was. He started insisting to have sex regularly… I refused and broke up with him. That’s when I started pretending that I was quirkless. I didn’t wanted people to abuse my quirk. I may have been young, I knew that if villains, or even some heroes came to know about it… Unfortunately, my ex-boyfriend didn’t care, he just told everyone he knew about my quirk. The man you just killed, he started flirting with me a year before I moved here. At the beginning, he was sweet. He was one of the most popular heroes, loved by all. What I didn’t knew is that he knew about my quirk, and that’s all he wanted. When I refused to have sex with him, he got angry… He… tried to force me… But I fought back, kicking and punching him and I ran away. I… I didn’t go to the police. They wouldn’t have believed me. He was a top Hero and I’m just a civilian, after all. I moved to another city, and then another, but he kept tracking me down. I always managed to escape before he could… But I was getting tired to run away. I made my decision and moved as far as I could afford, here. I never thought he would have been able to track me down here. I have to admit, I almost forgot him during the last 5 years. But now, thanks to you, I’m free. I’m really free. So, thank you, and if there’s anything I can do to thank you…

- The only thing I can ask from you is to keep my identity a secret.”

Mel looked at Chizome, slightly surprised

“Sure! That’s all? Nothing else?

- Were you expecting me to ask more? To ask you to use your quirk? I don’t need it. I don’t want it. If I used your quirk for my own benefit, I would be no better than villains and false heroes, wouldn’t I?

- It’s not… I… What I am trying to say is… I want to help you, but… I don’t have much else to offer… and… I wouldn’t mind… If it was you, I wouldn’t mind…”

Chizome chuckled, Mel was too cute when they were blushing. He couldn’t help it, he got closer to ruffle their short hair and gently kiss their forehead.

“Maybe there is something else. I don’t want to endanger you, but I would really appreciate if you accepted to stay in my life. I will try to keep you safe to the best of my abilities, but it will still be dangerous. I feel selfish for asking, but I have grown quite fond of you.

- Chizome… Of course! I wouldn’t want you to leave my life either, you know? I’d miss you…”

From then on, Mel and Chizome started secretly dating. It wasn’t easy, Chizome didn’t have much free time between his work at the store as Chizome and his work toward a world freed from false heroes as Stain, but every moment he spend with Mel were precious to him.

[starshinewriter]

New chapter of Being Yourself is out now!!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15039782/chapters/51232372

Chapter Title: Telling Part 5

Chapter Summary:  The triplets tell Della about them. Set sometime after 'Welcome Home'.

Alternative to Ao3: 

Huey was the one to bring it up, the thought of telling their mom about them. His siblings turned it down immediately, Dewey was too scared of her hating him or something and Louie didn't trust her. She had answered all their questions after the three of them asked even the inevitable 'why did you leave?' and Huey wanted her to know more about them. Even if his siblings didn't.

He could see both of their points, he knew how important a parent's acceptance was and he didn't completely trust her either, and it wasn't that he thought she deserved to know, he thought they deserved to tell her. They deserved to be able to their mom the truth about them. All of it.

Getting his siblings to see that though was easier said than done.

But in the end he told them he was telling her, with or without them. That had got their attention, he hadn't ever done that before, but this was something he really wanted to do. And the thought of doing it alone terrified him but if he had to he had to. He wasn't gonna pressure them, they could tell her when they decided they wanted to. But the thing was he knew Dewey did want to and was just scared. And the older brother in him was screaming at him to do something. The triplet brother in him knew that maybe that wasn't possible. It was up to Dewey to do that. He could give him advice when he asked for it however.

"Just be straight with her." He suggested.

"I can't do that!"

Huey gave him a look, "Dewey."  

He shrugged, "What? I can't." Huey continued to give him the look and he sighed, "That's easy for you to say, you're good at being direct, how do I know I won't say the wrong thing or whatever?"

"How would you say the wrong thing?"

Dewey sputtered at the confused look on his brother's face. "I don't know! I'd find a way though! I don't wanna mess this up, its mom I can't- I can't say something to make her hate me." He softly admitted as he turned away from Huey. "I'm not ready to tell her, Hue, what if she doesn't accept me? Accept us? Can't we wait a few more days?"

"You can if you want but I'm telling her, today."

Dewey turned back to him with resolve, "Then I guess I am too." Which only left one thing to take care of.

They both turned to their sibling, who had reminded quiet the whole time they had been talking. And stayed quiet as they tried to convince them to tell her too. It was hard to know what they were thinking exactly but their brothers had a pretty good guess.

"You don't trust her, that's fine, but aren't you tired of having to hide this? You've been dealing with hiding a part of who you are longer than we have, it doesn't seem very fair that you have to do it again. Tell her with us, and no matter how bad it may be we'll have your back. Promise." Huey told them. And Louie still thought it was a bad idea but if they had their back, things would be okay.

"I'm in." 

_______________________________________________________________

The three of them went to find Della, each of them growing more nervous as they did so. It was for different reasons but it all came back to the same thing, how would she react? And so, by the time they did find her they were having second thoughts. But they had come this far, they had to do it, now. They had a silent agreement that Dewey would go first so he was the one who got her attention. She smiled when she saw them; they tried to smile back.  

"Boys!" Louie tried to hide their flinch. "What's up?"

"We need to talk to you." Della nodded encouragingly. "Uh okay, I don't really know how to start this. I guess by now Dad's told you that we been through a lot, and figured a lot out. That's a bit of an understatement. Things weren't so good for us our first year here, and a little before that and sometimes we still struggle with things... I have problems with wanting to stand out, like a lot, and not always feeling like I belong. It's not as bad as it used to be, but it's still there." Dewey nudged his brother once he finished, not wanting the attention to be on him any longer.

"Okay guess I'll go next. There's a lot really but it boils down to my fear of the unknown and stress. I'm going to therapy for it now and it's helping a bunch, so much that I barely even think about it when I don't have to! But I still have bad days, bad periods, we all do; and I've figured out a lot about myself, including that I'm aromantic." Huey went silent after that waiting for Della's response. Thankfully he didn't have to wait long.  

"Thank you for telling me all this, it must've been so hard. I don't think any differently of either of you, you're my boys, no matter what happens or what you go through you will always be my boys. Dealing with all of that must've been difficult, it's a good thing you had each other, and our family." She turned to Huey. "Huey, I accept you, I'd accept you no matter what you told me about that stuff. I'd be a hypocrite not to." She added on with a wry smile.  

"We were right about no one in our family being straight." Dewey whispered to his siblings. Della looked at him amused and he knew that she heard, which meant he had to come clean about something else. "I'm gay." He admitted. And then the attention was on Louie.

"Oh boy my turn. This stuff really isn't easy for me to talk about and I don't exactly know how I feel about you right now but I was given a good point. I'm tired of keeping secrets from the people I care about. I have anxiety and self-worth issues, I haven't always been my biggest fan. I'm going to therapy too and talking to people about my problems but there are times when that isn't enough. It's hard, but it's not as hard as it used to be. And I also like guys... and am nonbinary." They tensed and their brothers put comforting hands on them, they were serious about having their back.

"Then I should apologize for calling you a boy. Misgendering people is wrong, I've always stood by that. Louie, thank you for telling me even if you're confused about me. Even if you didn't do it for me." She directed that at all of them and they gave her small smiles. She turned back to Louie, "What I told your brothers extends to you. No matter what happens you're my kid and I accept you no matter who you are. I'm glad things are easier for you now and I hope you'll let me be there when they're not, but I understand if that takes some time. For all of you." Their smiles grew and they raced to hug her.

It was true there was still some things to figure out and that this talk hadn't solved everything. But the triplets had gotten through everything else, they would get through this too. And the fact that it was a good thing and not a problem worked well in their favor. In all of their favors.

Family was the greatest treasure after all.

[sideoffiction]

The Need to Lie

Relationship: Platonic DLAMP

Warnings: Dysphoria, Unintentional Misgendering, spoilers for Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None, Deceit might be a little OOC, idk

Summary:  Deceit is the embodiment of lies: any lie Thomas has ever told, or ever will tell, is placed onto Deceit. But this. This is a lie Deceit wishes didn’t have to be told, a secret that didn’t have to be hidden. Deceit wishes that this truth could be screamed across rooftops. But instead, it is kept hidden from everyone: from the other sides and even Thomas. And it breaks her heart.

Me: Look at all of these fics I can work on right now My Brain: Trans Deceit Me: Whaa? My Brain: Trans. Deceit.

Just a warning: I know nothing about women’s clothing, so if the outfit doesn’t make sense, don’t yell at me. 

This is also posted on AO3, I’ll post the link in a reblog.

I hope yall enjoy, at least a little. 

Deceit is the embodiment of lies: any lie Thomas has ever told, or ever will tell, is placed onto Deceit. But this. This is a lie Deceit wishes didn’t have to be told, a secret that didn’t have to be hidden. Deceit wishes that this truth could be screamed across rooftops. But instead, it is kept hidden from everyone: from the other sides and even Thomas. And it breaks her heart.

Deceit doesn’t quite remember when she figured it out. All she remembers is one day, she knew who she really was, and she didn’t know what to do from there. But, of course, she had to keep up her image, and so she suffered and showed nothing but a lie whenever she saw others.

She kept it hidden pretty well, only showing her true self behind closed doors. It was easy when she was a dark side. But then, she slowly started showing up more and more in the light side of the mind, and soon she became a part of them. When that happened, she started being able to show herself less and less. The only time she had was when she would wake up before the others and she would wear her favorite clothes and do her makeup and hair. Sometimes, she would do it at night, when she can’t sleep, as a way of relaxing. She would stare into the mirror when she is done, looking at her true self, and feel a pang of sadness at the thought that she can’t be like this all the time.

Today was just like any day. Deceit wakes up at an ungodly hour, and starts her day. She sits at her vanity, and starts to do her makeup. She hums softly, some musical Thomas has been listening to non-stop lately. When she finishes her makeup, almost an hour later (don’t judge her, she goes all out at every opportunity she gets), she starts to pick out her outfit. She goes for a simple crop top and jean shorts. Today feels like a simple outfit day, despite only being able to wear the outfit for an hour tops.

Deceit lays back down on her bed, and stares up at the ceiling. What else can she do? She can’t exactly leave the room like this. Who knows what the others would say if they saw her. They would probably kick her out, and back into the dark side of the mind. Deceit can picture it now.

Roman with pure rage as he grabs his sword and forces her out of the light side.

Virgil with a look of pure disgust on his face as he sits by watching.

The sound of Logan talking about how illogical it is that Thomas could have a female side, despite being male.

And Patton, sitting there, not saying anything, looking at her with a disappointed look in his eyes.

No. Deceit can’t tell them. They can never know.

Deceit feels a slight movement in the mindscape, letting her know that there is another side awake. She sighs. She doesn’t want to get dressed but she has to. Deceit shuts her eyes tightly and snaps her fingers. When she peers out again, she can’t help the disappointment she feels upon seeing her usual outfit. She knows that if she looks in the mirror she will have the same result: all of her makeup will be gone and she’ll look like her usual self. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes once more, and sinks out of her room.

She pops into the kitchen, where the first thing she notices is the sound and smell of coffee brewing in the pot on the counter. She glances around and sees Logan sitting at the counter, engrossed in some book. He hasn’t noticed her yet, even as she makes her way over to the now finished coffee, and pours two mugs. She adds cream and sugar to one, and leaves the other black. She grabs the one with cream and sugar and brings it over to Logan, placing it down in front of him. She watches as he looks up with a surprised look on his face.

“Thank you, Deceit. I hadn’t noticed that you had arrived, nor did I notice that the coffee was done.” He looks down at his coffee and frowns slightly. “I’m sorry, but I actually prefer my coffee black.”

Deceit stares into Logan’s eyes with an unimpressed look, as if to say “are you serious?” Logan sighs, and picks up the coffee.

“I apologize, I sometimes forget that you are the literal embodiment of lies, and thus know when I am lying.”

“It’s not fine” Deceit replies softly, going back to grab her own coffee. She takes a sip as she walks back over to Logan, relishing the bitter taste. She sits down next to him, and glances at the book he is reading once more: And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie. He seems pretty far into the book, it is quite possible that he has already figured out who the murderer is. Still…

“The murderer isn’t Wargrave.” She says with a smirk. Logan looks up at her and smirks as well.

“I had already figured out as much, but thank you for the insightful information into the novel.”

“It’s a problem.” They fall into a comfortable silence as Deceit drinks her coffee and watches Logan read the book. Logan just about finishes the book by the time another side pops into the kitchen. It’s Patton, who tiredly makes his way over to the coffee machine to make his own coffee. He pours as much cream and sugar as he can without causing the mug to overflow, then makes his way over to the two of them. He does a double take when he notices Logan’s mug, which is still halfway full, Logan being too engrossed in the book to drink it.

“Logan, I thought you only liked black coffee.” Deceit has to hide her smile as Logan tries to come up with an excuse.

“Uh, you see Patton… Deceit here made my coffee this morning, and he doesn’t know how I like it. I didn’t want to be rude and not drink it.” Patton, still a little tired, takes a minute to process what was said, but when he does, he smiles.

“Aw, Logan, you do care!.” Logan sputters slightly at that, and tries to deny it, but Deceit shakes her head, to show just how much of a lie it would be. Logan backs down, and just grumbles to himself.

As the morning progresses, and the other two sides make an appearance, the kitchen slowly becomes a place of life and noise. But the more people there, the more people there are to tell a lie.

“Can you ask Dee if he wants pancakes or waffles?”

“He said it doesn’t matter.”

“Can you ask him if he wants any special toppings?”

“He says he doesn’t care.”

He, he, he. It’s all Deceit hears. And she wants so badly to say something, but she knows she can’t. She just has to deal with this everyday reality for as long as she possibly can.

Later on in the day, Thomas decides to do a video.

“What is up everybody?” is heard throughout the mindscape, as the sides listen in anticipation, hoping for an opportunity to turn the video into a Sanders Sides video. Deceit decides to tune it all out, as she is rarely ever needed for videos, even since being accepted by the light sides. Because of this, she is caught of guard when she is summoned into the real world.

She looks around as the other sides look at her expectantly. She tilts her head in confusion. “I totally know what is going on right now.”

“Thomas here summoned us because he has been feeling weird lately. He’s also had a sudden urge to make a video on respecting pronouns, and while Roman claims it wasn’t his idea, we decided to do it anyway.”

“And why wasn’t I summoned for this?”

“Well kiddo, first things first, we want to know your pronouns!”

Deceit stares confused. Why would they ask her for her pronouns? She just assumed that they all believed that all the sides were he/hims because Thomas is. Logan notices her confusion and provides some insight.

“As previously mentioned, Thomas has been feeling weird, and we believe this urge for a pronouns video has something to do with it. Maybe, if we all discuss our pronouns, as well as our friends’ pronouns, we may be able to get to the bottom of whatever is making him feel this way.” Deceit nods as it is explained to her, it all makes sense. The problem is, Deceit can’t get out of this through lying. If she tries to speak, the lie that would come out would be he/him, instead of the she/her lie that they would expect.

“So kiddo, what pronouns do you use?”

Deceit could get out of this by not saying anything, by ignoring the question and sinking out as soon as she can. But she knows that would just make them curious, and cause them to stop at nothing to figure it out. Or maybe her not responding would be just as telling as her saying it aloud. Maybe, just maybe, if she says it, they will forget that she can only tell lies, and believe it to be the truth. What other choice does she have?

“He/him” She replies as inconspicuous as she can. Please work, please work, please work...

“See Thomas, there is nothing to worry about here” Roman exclaims from his corner. “We are all he/him, and we all respect that about each other. So it cannot be us that is making you, eh… queasy, in a sense.”

Deceit tries hard to hide the sigh of relief that escapes her body. By the looks of it, she believes she has succeeded. That is until-

“Hold it.” Virgil replies from the stairs. The others halt their conversation and look over to Virgil. “Did you guys seriously miss that just now?”

“What is it now, Conspiracy Theory?”

“Deceit can only speak lies.” Deceit freezes at this and curses silently. Of course Virgil would be the one to pick it up, he’s known her the longest after all. They all stare at her, expecting her to say something, anything, but she can’t. She opens her mouth, but can’t seem to form the words that she wants to say. So she opts to not speak at all, and sinks out of the room as quickly as she can. She pops up into her room, and locks the door.

She goes and lays on her bed. What can she do now? By now, one of them has put together the pieces, and they’re probably up there right now trying to figure out how to get rid of her and send her back to the dark side of the mind. Maybe if she’s lucky, they’ll do it as nicely as possible. She feels tears start to well up in her eyes.

A soft knocking sounds throughout the room. Deceit holds her breath. “Kiddo?”

They sent the nicest side to send the worst possible news.

Deceit wipes her eyes and gets up, walking over to the door and opening it slightly. She sticks her head out slightly. “I don’t get it, ok. I’ll unpack my things and stay.”

“What are you saying Dee?”

“I’m saying that you guys want me here. I don’t understand.”

“Dee, no that’s not it at all. Can I come in please?”

Deceit opens the door all the way, and lets Patton in. She goes over and sits on her bed. Patton follows behind, and sits down next to her. They are quiet for a while, until Patton eventually speaks up.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I knew you guys would accept me. I’m not a part of Thomas, I shouldn’t be the same gender as him.”

“You shouldn’t have to be!” Deceit looks up in shock at him. “Just because Thomas is one thing, doesn’t mean you have to be. You can be whatever the hell you want, and we’d still accept you.”

Deceit doesn’t know what to say. She continues to stare at Patton in shock. Tears build up into her eyes, this time falling freely down her cheeks.

“Oh, kiddo.” Patton suddenly pulls her into a hug. She sobs into his shoulder as he soothingly rubs her back.

“Let me tell you something kiddo.” Patton whispers to her through the hug. “You’re not quite the only one.”

Deceit pulls back slightly to look at him through tear blurred eyes. He notices the confusion on her face and continues. “I may not understand fully, I still use he/him pronouns so I don’t know everything you’re going through, but I do understand wanting to be more feminine. There have been many times when I’m in my room and I would wear a dress, just because it’s comfortable or just feels right. And I’ve also caught Roman quite a few times trying to do his makeup while wearing some sort of skirt. So, you have nothing to be ashamed of. We might not be quite like you, but we definitely won’t shun you for being you.”

Patton makes sure to look her dead in the eyes when he speaks next. “We love you, kiddo.”

He pulls her into a tight hug once more, letting her get all of her tears out.

That night, Deceit and Patton talk to the other sides (and Thomas) face to face, explaining why she ran off earlier. As Patton said, they were quick to accept her, not questioning it in the slightest. If that is what made Deceit comfortable and happy, then who are they to stop her. When Deceit finally made it to her room that night, she laid in bed for a while, processing everything that happened. Then she realized.

Tomorrow she can present as she wants in front of the others.

Deceit wakes up the next morning feeling... well, she doesn’t really know how to feel. Today is a big day, after all. She goes about her normal routine, putting a little more effort than usual into what she wears. She takes as much time as possible on her makeup, and spends forever figuring out what to wear. In the end, she ends up putting on a yellow snakeskin skirt, and a black top.

It’s not too long before Deceit feels movement in the mindscape. She smiles. She shuts her eyes tightly, and snaps her finger. When she opens her eyes, her outfit has been covered slightly by her cape, and her gloves and hat have appeared (she does still have an image to uphold, after all). She knows, however, that if she were to look into a mirror, her makeup will still be there. She closes her eyes again, takes a deep breath, and sinks out of the room.

When Deceit pops up into the kitchen, the situation is relatively the same as the previous day. Coffee sits waiting to be poured as Logan once again reads a book at the counter. Deceit goes over and pours two cups of coffee, bringing the sweetened one over to Logan. When she places it down, Logan looks up, less surprised than the day before about her being there and her making him his coffee. He doesn’t even say anything about how the coffee is made. However, his eyes widen in shock for a second when he notices what Deceit is wearing. Deceit nervously waits for what Logan will say about her outfit, or about her in general.

“You look nice, Dee.” is all he says, before taking a sip of his coffee. Deceit breathes a soft sigh of relief, and mumbles a quick “no thank you”, before going over and grabbing her own coffee.

She glances at the book Logan is reading when she gets back to the counter. It’s not a mystery this time, so there is nothing for her to really spoil. Instead she just sits, drinks her coffee, and watches him read silently.

Patton is the next side to arrive. He tiredly makes his coffee and walks over to them. He smiles slightly when he notices Logan’s coffee, the same as yesterday. It is then that he notices Deceit. All tiredness falls from his face as he takes her in.

“Aw, kiddo, you look so cute!” He says, rushing up to her.

“Be careful, Patton.You do not want to spill your coffee, do you?”

“Sorry, Lo.” Patton replies, slowing down and stopping in front of Deceit. “Dee, you look Dee-lightful! I love your outfit! . Oh, I would love to try it on sometime! Maybe we can play dress up together! Ooh ooh, maybe Roman could even join us!”

Deceit doesn’t know how to react; she’s not used to so much attention, especially to her outfit. Before she can say anything, Logan speaks up.

“Patton please, can’t you see that you are overwhelming Dee?” Patton then notices Deceit’s slightly uncomfortable look.

“Oops, sorry kiddo.” Patton sits down at the counter, next to them, trying to keep himself calm. They all fall into comfortable silence as they all drink their coffees and wake up more. Later on, Roman and Virgil show up. They both looked shocked at Deceit’s outfit, Roman more than Virgil.

“Look at you, Dee-who-cried-wolf! I love your outfit. And by gosh, your makeup! You have to show me how you apply it sometime! And...” Deceit zones out as Roman starts going on a tangent.She looks over to Virgil, who gives her a small smile and a thumbs up. She smiles back at him.

The morning progresses as usual, but Deceit can feel the difference. And it’s a difference that means the world to her.

“Can you ask Dee what she wants for breakfast?”

Yeah, she can get used to this.

[jadecringecomp]

jade, of course, is still trying to deflect rather than own up to anything at all. im too lazy for screenshots so youre going to have to deal with text for this one. you can see their post here though. and if receipts are needed they are most likely on the callout blog or you can come to me if you cant find them.

“uses their own dead grandma as leverage out of nowhere literally months after the original argument”

jade are you really that braindead. like youre still just proving my previous point. youre still practically shitting on me for it. i gave a reason as to why that night was so traumatic for me because you keep trying to make it seem “like it wasnt that bad” by your own words!

also like uh, jade. you yourself have used your aunt having cancer as a reason to just... excuse every single action youve done. so again, take that and choke.

“abuses their own bf/ex but its fine because he abused her first lolololol!!!”

jade i... honestly have no words. youre still defending a pedophile, and you even admit he abused me. like, yes, i cheated on him. but how does the fact he is a pedophilic abuser not process through your head. why are you so set on defending that. a genuine question.

“flips back and forth on whether they were actually abused or not whenever it benefits her“

theres... nowhere that even says that in the link you posted. are you posting that to still try and imply i lied about the abuse you inflicted upon me or...?

“refriends their own ‘abuser’”

ok well one jade, you still have no actual proof ive befriended broden at all. all you have is a like on a fucking post. really how braindead is it possible to be at this point.

and regarding bailey, i never called her my abuser. you were the one to do that. you said she abused me after i showed you screenshots of what went down between us. and whats worse after i even came to you and showed you the screenshots and you got involved with that mess?? you still wanna try and say what happened was fake. like you wanna call me two-faced, yet youre so quick to change your mind once you realize that person doesnt benefit you anymore. 

also! for someone whos a survivor of abuse, you sure as hell dont realize a common thing between us survivors is literally going back to those who’ve hurt them right?? like you keep bringing this up as if im fucking lying about the whole thing when im not since again, i came to you while we were friends with the proof. i can even post them if need be. and honestly it doesnt even fucking matter anymore ive broken contact with her after shortly realizing my mistake.

“denies other ppls abuse just because they doesnt like them and a few vent discord messages means they knows literally everything abt it“

i can admit to saying i denied your abuse because there is actual proof that you werent abused two years ago, not because i dont like you. do you really just think nobody will believe proof right in front of them jade??? do you think youre some perfect princess who can do no wrong???? like jade the proof is right @deeancie, @estweri, @honeykeis-callout, and even here. you really expect me to just not believe it if i didnt hate you. you honestly need some real fucking help if thats the case jade.

and really like. if you say your bf clams up when you go to him... what else am i supposed to believe. sure i can be wrong, but reading that shit can really make you wonder what is going on between you two. and jade you wanna say that like you yourself dont do that shit. remember all the times you read vague text posts and would go on a tangent as if you knew every little thing about what was going on in my life. yeah kinda what i thought.

“says grooming minors is talking to people One time“

i love how you fail to leave out the fact that these people were minors and that youre practically defending loli. so if youre still talking to these minors and since youre still defending loli, then yes youre grooming minors into thinking loli is ok.

“straight up let a minor into their porn server on discord (they can go as rabid about this as they want but they still straight up showed an actual minor graphic porn but IM a pedophile bc i rb anime sometimes lmfao)”

again its been resolved. like ive acknowledged it was wrong of me to do and ive changed it. and how can you say you just rb anime sometimes when. you literally are reblogging this kind of fuckshit. like do you not remember reblogging that obviously naked child in a collar or what. the difference is i realized my wrong and changed it while youre still rbing actual loli.

“lied about the relationship (the one where they abused each other and she cheated on him with her other abuser???) having elements of pedophilia because they lied about her age”

this is so... ive told you i forgot. the ages. i was literally an age off for the both of us. like what else do you want me to do about this.

“has sketchy as fuck ocs, including one thats physically ten who would force their adult self insert to be naked around them and also drew them being physically beaten“

while the first was true (but i dont have that oc anymore), where in the fuck did i draw them being physically beaten lole??? are you pulling this out of your ass to deflect you yourself rbing beaten children????

and i swear to god if you bring up this comic, im going to scream.

“is a stalker and an abuser. by their own logic“

ok like. a couple of things to this. jade when are you going to get it through your thick skull i didnt give a shit if you were lurking or not, it was the fact you would comment on my every move. which is stalking by the way and incredibly creepy like get a life!

and an abuser “by my own logic”. the link you shared, again, doesnt show that anywhere. also with how badly of a hypocrite you are, thats you. you told me it was abusive to call people delusional. you started doing that once i realized my wrong and stopped. you told me it was abusive. you told me making people relapse was abusive. yet once i relapse you still didnt give a shit and somehow that makes you in the clear (though i still dont give a shit we both literally did that to ourselves the point is youre an abuser too to your own logic). you said trying to gaslight people is abusive (which it is). look at the stacks of proof i have of you gaslighting me. like i could go on but all the proof if here on this blog.

“oh and dont forget they foamed at the mouth that i didnt instantly know when they changed their pronouns but has been proven to have Actually knowingly misgendered me for weeks“

jade the fact you were lurking should make it fucking obvious you should have known my pronouns. and for weeks?? jade i misgendered you in your callout, which i immediately changed once pointed out. will you please stop lying to make yourself look victim and just tell the truth for once in your life.

“also apparently i can call them rae and its not deadnaming because its not their birthname so“

oh my god youre literally fucking braindead it hurts to watch at this point. no rae isnt my deadname. but i do prefer not going my that. the whole point of that was that you tried screaming transphobia because someone called you by a previous name you went by. you fucking dumbass.

“claims to have bpd but doesnt even know what cluster b is holy shit!!!“

what do i even say to this jade?? what does the fact i didnt know what that was at first matter to me having bpd??? also are you just gonna shrug off the fact that you first claimed you got misdiagnosed with autsim, then suddenly you do? you claimed to have bipolar disorder, then later you suddenly decide you have bpd??? kind of sketchy if you ask me!

“tries to send anons under my name but forgot that their friend levi doesnt even have me blocked so why the fuck would i go on anon if i would ‘sign’ it anyway hm“

a....... are you implying i was the one to send those....? is it because you realized once you did so it backfired?? jade for someone who wanted to claim i was the one making up conspiracies, you sure make up a lot of them.

in conclusion: jade you still are just deflecting! you still havent defended any of the shit me or my friends have called you out for! the fact you still havent admitted to them or so much as even defended the claims sure does speak a lot! stop deflecting and lying and just fucking come out about it!

[bitter-bitchbites]

Genuine question, if being trans isn't seen as a medical condition isn't that a bad thing? Insurance wouldn't cover life saving surgeries/hormones, so isn't that detrimental and against the trans communities interests?

“fair” point in theory, but you’re not seeing the matter from the right angle, because you got a transantagonistic and cissexist bias.

being trans isn’t a medical condition and it does not inherently implies medical care. 

transitioning does. like, yeah, hrt, surgeries, stuff that some trans people need so their dysphoria stop beating them in a metaphorical bloody pulp, because they need their body changed so they stop feeling so suicidal. insurance should cover that, because yeah, their mental health and life depend on it.

and no, the “trans” isn’t short for “transitionning”. it’s short for “transgender”, that was thought to contrast with “cisgender”, and “trans” has the sense of “crossing to the other/another side here, while “cis” means staying on the same side one starts on, more or less. that’s ancient greek, i think. so being trans isn’t defined by transitionning. transitionning is a choice, and sometimes it’s not, because sometimes it’s the only solution to not break because of dysphoria.

because of course, dysphoria is also its own medical thing, it’s a mental disorder, that can cause depression, self harm, self hatred, and suicidal urges.

but not every trans person has deadass terrible dysphoria that we can’t deal with without changing our bodies at a high price. some have mild dysphoria, that they can deal with haircuts, different clothes, and shaping their bodies in one they like themselves as and all. sometimes it’s bargaining because they can’t afford surgery, but sometimes, they just don’t feel like they need surgery. and yeah im mainly talking about nb trans ppl, altho there gotta be binary trans ppl who are like that too. i just know that it’s smtg we nb ppl often feel like. 

nonbinary ppl show that (hence why transmedicalists aka truscums hate us, tho idk why they care so much about pathologizing us and themselves). we don’t always hate our body. there are trans ppl, nb or not, that don’t suffer dysphoria, because dysphoria isn’t smtg you’re born with, it’s a disorder that’s caused by a bad environment that triggers it. 

extreme example, imagine a trans boy who’s forced at age 0 into pink dresses, pink shoes, pink hats, drinks from pink cups, in a pink chair, sleeps in a pink bed, in a pink room. and he’s said “you’re a girl girly girl” all the time, goes to dancing class because “that’s what girls do”, is put on make up cuz “that’s what girls like” and can’t put on pants cuz “that’s not a girl thing”. forced in a cissexist bs mold. a nightmare. it’s not that that makes him a boy, he was a boy at age 0, regardless or circumstances; but he grew in an environment he could not be comfortable exploring his identity and questioning his assigned gender. and that’s going to worsen his already possible dysphoria. 

but being trans isn’t what’s going to make him break down and slap his abusive mother with that fucking pink violin, and run away to live with his bf in the next state raising cats, no, that’s his anger caused by the hurt of his many mental illnesses, dysphoria being one of them.

being trans doesn’t cause pain. it’s dysphoria’s fault. and not every trans person has dysphoria, and sometimes nb ppl have dysphoria, and sometimes not and they’re still trans, and some trans ppl’s dysphoria goes away at some point. but being trans doesn’t.

and take me for example. i have dysphoria. had it since i was 10. im a demigirl. that’s a nb(trans) woman identity. but i don’t wanna change my body with surgery. i don’t want to take away parts of myself, because i got enough of that, and i want to love my body. so instead i wanna add stuff, like letting my body hair do its thing, and not wearing bras and getting muscles, and asking ppl to use they/them for me, and not try and push me into being whatever tf they think a cis girl does. and that, plus mental work on my image, helped me tone down my dysphoria. maybe i’ll see if i can get hormones, if it doesn’t turn out i already have pocs. i was sick because of my dysphoria. not because im trans.

there’s a lot of cases like this that are weird and hard to understand, maybe, but they all point to one thing: the problem is dysphoria and other mental illnesses caused by being misgendered and abused.

i wanna be trans. i like that. it’s good, it’s me, it helps me, the community is mostly nice, im at peace with that label, and i don’t want to have it taken off. because that’s what it’d mean, to see transidentity as a medical condition. it’s be an illness. something to correct, to fight, to destroy. i don’t want to fight myself. neither does the majority of trans ppl.

so no, not pathologizing transidentity isn’t anywhere near detrimental to the trans community. because we still have valid problems that deserve specific attention, we still have dysphoria, we still want to transition, and we deserve the health care that we need to cope with cissexist abuse. the problem isn’t being trans. it’s the environment, the ppl, the society we live in. and doctors already know that. they don’t allow you to get hrt on insurance because you’re trans. they do because they dx you have dysphoria. that’s literally how they decide if we deserve to get the treatment we know we need. sometimes they won’t even dx ppl with dysphoria that they have dysphoria, because they’re “too mentally ill for that”, or “too sane to be trans”. and hormones don’t even cost as much as we gotta pay them. the prices are artificially inflated, like most medicines, because a compagny own them.

trans ppl don’t need to be pathologized to get the issues linked to our marginalized identity acknowledged. insurance would/should cover surgery and hrt regardless of what ppl think being trans is. because when we say we got a fucking problem or need things, we should be listened.

we would be, if our society cared. we wouldn’t be pathologized if our governments weren’t cissexist trans-hating little shits.

another example, a comparison this time. being afab isn’t an illness. but we still need medical attention, like detecting breast and uterus cancers, or other gyneacological treatment that can be a matter of life and death. and to that, you add the mental baggage caused by being in a mysoginistic cissexist patriarchy. sounds like worth being covered by insurance, uh? well not to many pseudo-civilized countries, but to the happiest on earth, it does, and it works. and yet being afab, especially a cis woman, isn’t an illness, or a curse.

because yeah, we also used to think that women were inherently sick and taht they needed men’s guidance and validation to be allowed to live, it’s just the same fucking mentality, but applied to trans ppl, with cis ppl. 

we’re not the correct gender, we don’t even perform it correctly, so we’re not worth being cared and listened to.

that’s victim blaming. that’s putting ppl under oppression, making them grow in a toxic environment they can’t escape from because it’s their very identity that’s thought to be inherently hostile, and we tell them it’s their fault. that they’re sick and that’s it.

considering being trans a medical condition is fucking murder. you’re placing the power in cis ppl’s hands doing that, because that means we’re to be corrected, and only them can do that. it also gatekeeps from getting treatment. it also misplaces the blame on our identity when it should be on our oppression.

being transmedicalist is allyship to the cistem. that’s believing the lie they made up to say we only deserve care if we accept that we’re sick, and to be ashamed.

im repeating myself, but insurance should cover our treatments for our dysphoria, and let us do what we wish of our bodies and identity as we endanger no one. nobody is allowed to call us ill for what we are while ignoring what we suffer of. we should get at least partially insurance covered surgery and hrt and completely insurance covered when we have dysphoria. it’s possible. spain does it, in good enough conditions. yeah, spain, the catholic country that was still a royalist dictatorship fourty years ago. and france too, can do the insurance coverage, even if it’s harder because you need psychiatric approval first, which is bs and intrusive. 

we aren’t sick for being trans, we deserve to be listened on our terms, that’s not a fleeting dream, and that’s not up to debate. 

and we’re going to change shit so we can get that.

[iwasnthere622]

Hi My Name Is... (Ch. 4)

AO3 Link

When Jaylee walked into school the next day, she felt overly self-conscious, heading straight for her locker. She'd stayed at Kim's with everyone else the night before, only running home this morning for new clothes, and despite everyone's continued acceptance all throughout last night's movie marathon, she couldn't help but brace for the other shoe to drop.

"Hey!" Kim said as she walked over with Billy. "Why'd you run out this morning? You missed breakfast."

Jaylee shrugged, embarrassed and nervous. "Needed new clothes," she answered.

Billy frowned. "We all did," he pointed out.

Jaylee just shrugged again, closing her locker as Trini walked up. "No Zack?"

"He's checking on his mom and the diner, he'll be here," Trini answered. "Missed you this morning."

"Sorry," Jaylee said, ducking her head.

Kim frowned, sighing when the warning bell went off. "We'll talk at lunch, okay?"

"See you!" Billy said, walking to his homeroom.

Jaylee nodded at Kim, feeling Trini watch her as she walked away, going to her own homeroom and just trying to pay attention in class.

"J!" Zack yelled, bouncing up to her when she entered the cafeteria, startling her.

"No good?" Zack asked, having tried to think of new nickname all morning that they could use when out in public without freaking Jaylee out.

"Uh, no, it's fine," Jaylee said, "when did you get here?"

"Just came for lunch, I'm helping with clean up at the diner," Zack said, walking with Jaylee as she went through the lunch line to get food.

Jaylee bought food for Zack automatically as she went. "How bad is it?"

Zack shrugged. "Could be better, could be worse."

Jaylee nodded, paying and following Zack to their table.

"Well?" Billy asked, wanting to know how this name compared so he could add it to his chart ranking them.

"No good," Zack said, sitting down.

"What?" Jaylee asked, confused and looking between them.

"We need a codeword, dude -- shit," Zack said. "Sorry."

"Only here for one period and already messing up," Trini teased, dodging Zack's kick under the table.

"I told you guys, it's fine," Jaylee said, having told them last night that Jason was fine. It was fine.

"And we told you: no it's not," Kim said firmly.

"Hmm, I didn't think that would work," Billy said to Zack. "We've used it before."

"Yeah, but it's the same abbreviation for both," Zack groaned.

Billy shook his head. "That's why it won't work."

"Sorry," Jaylee muttered.

"For what?" Trini asked, raising an eyebrow, daring her to say something.

"Being complicated," Jaylee said, holding Trini's eyes, not backing down.

"Guys..." Kim said, trying to stop a fight, knowing they were both stubborn.

"Ha, I'm not the only one!" Zack said, weirdly happy Kim messed up, too -- they weren't messing up on purpose, it was just hard to break old habits!

Kim glared at Zack. "People," she said, glaring harder when he snickered. "Let's just calm down."

"What? Everything's fine," Jaylee said, breaking Trini's gaze at last and shoving Zack's food at him to eat.

"Yes, it is," Trini agreed.

Jaylee started eating and watched in growing fascination as they all talked around it, the literal elephant in the room, avoiding gender all together and not giving her a name at all. This was definitely better than being misgendered, but it kind of made her feel invisible, too.

"What about they/them?" Billy asked suddenly.

"Huh?" Jaylee asked, not understanding.

"As pronouns," Billy said.

"They exist?" Jaylee said, glancing around, realizing what Billy was asking but not wanting anyone to overhear, shifting uncomfortably.

"Do you think people are okay to use them?" Kim asked, seeing her hesitation and trying to disguise the question.

Jaylee smiled gratefully at her. "Yeah. I mean, sure. They sound good."

"Woot, one problem down!" Zack grinned, slinging an arm over Jaylee.

"I'm a problem?" Jaylee said, mostly teasing.

Trini kicked Zack. "No, Zack's the problem."

"Triniiiiii," Zack whined. "Why are you so mean?"

"Why are you so dumb?" Trini countered.

"Children," Kim said mildly, sharing a smile with Jaylee.

The bell went off and they all stood up. "Meet at 5?" Jaylee asked, glancing around. Training at 5?

"6 is better for me," Zack said, knowing he'd need time to check on his mom after work.

Jaylee nodded. "Okay, 6," she said firmly, everyone nodding in return.

"I want a full report!" Zack grinned, pointing a finger at her. "Any more mistakes, I wanna know!"

Jaylee rolled her eyes, punching him lightly. "Get out of here."

"See ya!" Zack grinned, splitting from them to head to the diner instead of to class.

"He's an idiot," Trini sighed.

Kim grinned. "But he's our idiot."

Jaylee laughed. "Agreed... see you later!"

--

Jaylee got to the ship early, changing from her wet clothes into dry ones they kept there and heading to the command room to check in.

"Any progress?" she asked, walking around the morphing grid to stand in front of Zordon, Alpha-5 walking over with her.

"Not yet," Alpha-5 said, making a whirling sound that was its sigh. "But it does appear some of Rita's power was left in the gold that dissolved."

"Great," Jaylee muttered.

"We are trying to track the source," Zordon said. "But with her power weak and scattered it is hard to pinpoint."

"I guess we should be thankful it's not any stronger," Jaylee sighed, really hoping for a day when Rita was finally done messing with them.

"You beat her once, you can do it again," Alpha-5 said encouragingly. "This is just an echo, anyway."

"Just... keep looking. More of them are forming at once, and with the attack on Zack... we can't always get there before people get hurt," Jaylee said, frustrated with their limitations in protecting the town.

"Yes, Master Jason," Alpha-5 said.

Jaylee just nodded. "I'm going to warm up in the pit," she said.

"Shouldn't you wait for the others?" Alpha-5 questioned, knowing they were all quite capable fighters and training was more about learning team tactics nowadays.

"Let him train," Zordon said, proud of Jason for working hard to protect his team and the crystal.

Jaylee started walking out of the room, steps stuttering when she saw the team walking in, Zack frowning and rubbing his side where Trini had just elbowed him.

"Okay?" she asked, glancing at everyone, noting Billy's pensive frown and how Kim was glancing at Zordon and Alpha-5 and then back at her.

"We're good," Trini said firmly.

Jaylee nodded slowly, feeling like she was missing something but trusting Trini, wondering if they were having second-thoughts about her, resolving to shove everything down and go back to how things used to be.

They walked to the pit in silence, Jaylee pausing to look at them again, keeping her head up. She was the leader, everything was fine.

"Three versus two to warm up," Jaylee decided.

"Girls against guys?" Zack said, something devious in his eyes.

Jaylee swallowed, straightening her shoulders. "Sure," she said, waiting for Kim and Trini to move aside, moving to stand with Billy and Zack.

"What are you doing?" Zack said, staring at her.

"What?" Jaylee said warily.

"Zack!" Trini hissed, glaring, but he ignored her.

"You're on the wrong team," Zack said, nodding to Kim and Trini.

Jaylee flushed. "No I'm not."

"Yes, you are," Zack insisted. "Is it cause of Zordon and Alpha-5? They are aliens, dudette, they don't care."

"Zack," Jaylee said, warning in her tone but also something fragile. She was fine with going back to pretending, that would be better than this, starting to feel panicked.

"Zack, that's enough!" Trini ordered.

"C'mon, Red, this is our space. Where else you gonna be yourself?" Zack coaxed, voice soft.

"I can't," Jaylee said, some panic bleeding into her voice. "I can't lose this."

"You wouldn't lose this," Billy said, earning himself his own glare from Trini. "You're the leader, the Red Ranger. We need you, and so do they."

"Besides, if they kicked you out, we'd quit," Kim said, shrugging at Trini. "Sorry, Trin, but Zack's right -- they won't care and this way she can finally have someplace to be herself."

"Coming out is your choice," Trini said to Jaylee. "And we'll support you either way," she added, glaring at everyone else.

"C'mon, Red," Zack muttered.

Jaylee looked around at them all, taking a deep breath. They accepted her, they would fight for her, and she'd be flat out lying if she said she didn't crave someplace to just let her guard down and be herself.

She walked over to Kim and Trini.

Zack whooped, laughing. "Yeah! All right, ladies, you are going down!"

Jaylee grinned a little, launching herself at Zack and then they were all sparring and laughing. She twirled effortlessly between Kim and Trini, knowing their moves just as she knew Zack's and Billy's and they all knew hers, the girls eventually winning.

"You win," Billy conceded with a smile.

"Only cause they outnumbered us," Zack added from the ground.

Trini snorted. "Wanna go one on one?"

Zack groaned.

"Didn't think so," Trini smirked.

"Okay, let's bring up some putties. Alpha-5?" Jaylee called out, the robot soon appearing. "Can you start the program? Trini and Bill first," she said, offering Zack a hand to pull him up and move with him and Kim to the edge for some tag team practices.

"Certainly, Master Jason," Alpha-5 said, nodding its head.

"Wrong," Zack said, waiting for Alpha-5 to turn to blink at him. "Her name is Jaylee," he said, nodding at Jason.

"Jay... lee?" Alpha-5 repeated, confused.

Jaylee flushed. "Jason's fine," she muttered, embarrassed.

"No, it's okay, Jaylee, I'm sure Alpha-5 doesn't mind," Billy said encouragingly.

"No, of course not," Alpha-5 said, "Master Jaylee it is then."

"Mistress," Zack corrected in a bored tone, Kim smacking him. "What?" he protested. "Master is wrong, too!"

"Jaylee is a girl, okay, Alpha-5?" Trini said, hands on her hips.

"Oh," Alpha-5 said. "Has that always been the case?"

"Yes," Kim answered before Jaylee could.

Alpha-5 nodded. "My apologies, then! The scanners must have malfunctioned when you first arrived, humans look so similar..."

Scanners? Jaylee blushed, feeling like a freak, able to guess exactly what the 'scanners' had shown Alpha-5, hunching in on herself to try to make herself smaller.

"See? It's fine, girl," Zack said, nudging her gently.

"Shall I call up the putty program now, Mistress Jaylee?" Alpha-5 asked.

Jaylee's blush brightened, nodding once. "Yeah."

Alpha-5 nodded and then the putties started forming, Trini and Billy turning to face them.

Kim reached out to grab Jaylee's hand and squeeze. "You okay?" she whispered.

"Yeah," Jaylee said back, voice a little hoarse, clinging to Kim's hand and swallowing down a lump of emotion, feeling shaky with embarrassment and nerves and relief.

--

Jaylee shifted her grip on her bag, giving Kim a small smile when she opened the door.

"Hey!" Kim said, waving her inside. "Trini just got here, too."

Jaylee nodded, following Kim up to her bedroom, nodding at the yellow ranger and getting a nod in return.

"Okay, so I've got out my stuff and Trini brought some of hers, too," Kim said, gesturing to the piles of beauty products on Kim's bed. "Did you bring yours?"

"Yeah," Jaylee said, not putting down her duffle bag though. "Look, we don't have to do this," she said, glancing between them.

"What? It's girls night," Kim said. "That includes you, too."

Jaylee smiled a little at that. "Yeah, but I'm..." she trailed off, waving a hand at herself instead.

"Tall?" Trini suggested.

"Have an athletic build?" Kim added, grinning.

"White?" Trini said, laughing.

Jaylee huffed, some nerves leaving. "It's not gonna look as good on me," she said at last.

"Then we're doing it wrong," Kim said firmly, sitting next to Trini on her bed and patting the covers. "Now, c'mon, show us your collection, klepto."

Jaylee sat down, slowly opening her bag and digging past her clothes for the night and tomorrow to pull out her lockbox. She unlocked it and opened the lid, letting Kim and Trini look through.

"I was wondering where this pencil went," Trini muttered.

Jaylee flushed. "Sorry."

"It's fine, I bought another one," Trini said, dismissing it.

"Well, it looks like you have some decent stuff," Kim said, "But you could definitely use some better foundations and contouring colors. I don't think Trini and I will have anything that matches you."

"Yeah, that's okay," Jaylee said, knowing as much.

Trini picked up nail polish. "Do you wear this?"

Jaylee shook her head. "No, it'd be too easy to see and I can't explain it," she said, shrugging.

"But you want to?" Kim guessed.

Jaylee nodded.

"What about just your toes?" Kim said.

Jaylee shook her head again. "My family could still see it."

"What about the clear ones?" Trini asked.

Jaylee nodded. "I have some -- I've worn that."

"Oh good, we can totally do manis/pedis then!" Kim said, smiling.

"Okay," Jaylee agreed shyly, not too confident doing this with other girls (real girls).

"Great!" Kim grinned. "Will you let us do your face, too?"

"She wants someone to experiment on and I won't let her do me," Trini said with an eye roll.

"Hey!" Kim protested. "I like doing makeup for other people, okay, it's fun. I can't help that your style is boring."

"It gets the job done," Trini said. "And I like it, so."

Kim sighed, turning to Jaylee and smiling hopefully. "So, can I do your makeup? Please?"

"I... if you really want to?" Jaylee said, nervous but smiling when Kim cheered.

Two hours later, when she was finally allowed to look in the mirror after Kim reminded her that it'd look better once they could buy the right shades of foundation for her, she stared at her face and almost didn't recognize it. Kim (with Trini's help) had done a much better job than she ever had, and she looked... feminine. Pretty.

"Wow," she breathed, looking away from her reflection to meet Kim's eyes in the mirror.

"You're gorgeous," Kim grinned.

"Definitely," Trini agreed.

"Thank you," Jaylee said, smiling wide.

Both girls grinned at her. "No need to thank us, this was fun and the night is still young! And maybe later we can talk clothes?"

"Clothes?" Jaylee repeated, turning from the mirror to face them.

"Let's not overwhelm her," Trini said, knowing how Kim could be.

Kim stuck her tongue out. "Fine, spoilsport. Then let's put on a movie for manis/pedis!"

[ramblingsandruminations]

When Suicidal Ideation is the norm

All the help in the world becomes a muddy puddle of shitty affirmations, thorned gaslighting, and useless guilt. If one more person tells me "have you tried yoga/deepbreaths/vitamin B..." Ugh. Who am i kidding? This is tumblr, where you can always find somone who says exactly what you are thinking ( #omgmetho #datme #meirl ). Weve all heard the "stop giving advice and atart taking it " speech, we're all likely to have read some post about the "evils" and " abuses" of therapy and inpatient treatment, and I'll bet a paper hat, some vending machine doodad, or some shitty-yet-adorably-hipsterly prize that within 100 reblogs someone links to some news article about "Queer Youth Completes Suicide And We Think You Will Pay Us to Feel Bad About It, Don't Forget To Like, Share, and Subscribe to Trevor Project, Your Reblog Will Save A Life (And Keep Us Relevant For Our Advertisers)." Tomorrow(well, next daylight hours) my 26-year-old depressed college freshman self is going to walk into my schools coubseling office and tell them i never recieved the location for the therapist they reffered me to (true story--Honestly not avoiding treatmwnt, even if it is useless) and request a second referral. Ill sit through some lecture about self-advocacy veiled in "concerned questions" and once again be misgendered, deadnamed, and criticized for giving a fuck (note: commenters looking to describe me with the word "cuck," i see you there, good for you, let me know how that white kkknight holier than thou red pill rage fest dopamine addiction is filling the gaping void of existential dread within you). After that, there is always a small chance they'll see just how depressed i am, and faster than you can say "looney is a word based in misogynistic beliefs of womens mental health and menstrual cycles being unhealthily and unscientifically connected to the moon," ill be fielding questions which boil down to "do you want to kill yourself" and "do you have a plan." By this time in my life, i've gotten pretty used to BSing my way around psychology. All it really takes is knowing that all they can take you on is your word, and nothing else. "Do you want to kill yourself?" they ask, and i reply "*short pause, heavy, short exhale denoting weight and truth* Well, yeah. But quite frankly, suicidal ideation is a part of my everyday life- nothing i do isn't plagued with some form of "i should wrap this mouse cord aroubd my neck and die" or " i wonder if that branch is strong enough to support my weight" or "man, my head hurts, but i bet a bottle or two of ibuprofen could make it stop." For me, its not a question of wanting to die, its a matter of what do i have to live for, and ive been through enough inpatient DBT and group therapy to help me cope, using breathing techniques and self-care tips to push me through the worst of it." This is usually if not always all they need to hear. Sure, im depressed, but anything they could tell me is something i know and am already doing-i sound to them more like a patient leaving inpatient than one entering it. Our hospitals are overfilled, understaffed, prqctucally unfunded; if im "stable" im staying out of their ledger book. Occasionally, they still worry, having one of those "consciences" their peers claim to have lost when a schizophrenic patient tried to bite their ear off, and ask a follow up "but are you sure? You seem distressed, and if you need some help, we are here for you," to which all i have to do is look at them through sad, but strong eyes and say "Thank you, but i have a great support network of friends and of course, my boyfriend. He's fantastic, and one of the most important things to have happened to me. He keeps me on this side of the dirt." A small tired chuckle, and their focus diverts towards affirmations of how good it is to have support, their therapy brains running on autopilot. Then all it needs is some "active" listening, uh-huhs, and compliant assurance that ill keep working on myself to assuage them of any guilt or corncern. Maybe, though, ill tell them the truth, and let them take me in. Three hots and a cot, after all. I'll fight through my dysphoria as they ogle every nook and cranny of my malformed body trying to see if im hiding a weapon or some drugs; I'll continue to insist on a private room and remind them calmly yet firmly that no, i will *not* room with a male, and their lack of knowledge on how to treat a transgender non-binary patient is well behind on proper treatment according to WPATH, the APA, and our state govt. When i get a room, theyll say that i should take as much time as i need to get acclimated, and not worry about what the rwat of group is qorking on, and then contradict themselves within 5 minutes and say i need to go to group, theyre waiting on me. In my fresh new scrubs, ill walk in and within seconds, ill identify how th staff monitors who came in when (usually different colored scrubs based on different halves of the week, and of course, anyone likely to leave within 48 hours wearing "normal" clothes), and see the therapist or doctor talking about emotional management techniques. When i sit down, eeyes will be on me, some with looks of angey jusgemwnt, some with awe and wonder: what could THEY be in for? The group leader will ask me my name, ill state it and my pronouns (to several uncomfortable shifts in the room), and theyll let me know what they were talking about. Ill make a good effort to participate, play along, etc. Someone in the group will be desperate to control the conversation, talking more and more as if this entire experience is just for them- another person will be too dissociated to say anyrhing, despite the doctors attebpts to get them to open up. Already, the cliques will become apparent; humans are aocial creatures, after all. When we leave for the next scheduled activity (either rec or lunch, depending on the time) the docs will be watching me- im on suicide watch, and they expe t me to jump out a window or try and slit my wrists with a paperclip or something. Im not a danger in this regard; ive been threatened with solitary and ECT if i dont comply before- i am their prisoner and i must comply. Within an hour or two of being there, ill be able to notice how well funded they are (or more likely, arent.) The quality of their reading materials; the availability of puzzles abd how well taken care of they appear. Recreation will be the most bare of kindergarden activities; coloring books, maybe a tv with basic cable. A daycare for adults, abd not the cool buzzfeed articles. Someone, probably an addict, will be trying to fanangle their attendee into giving them special treatement- a snack, or an extra smoke break. I'll be sitting in a corner, smirking- the staff arent even an eigth as dumb as this person thinks, and they've seen this type before. They might get something, but itll cost them sour looks from staff and less accommodating treatment with the doctors. After the second hour, we'll have another activity (second group, rec, or maybe "outside time" if its a particularly fancy facility; while the sun will certainly be shining, our feelings of freedom will be dampened by the high fances and walls keeping us from getting away). This is usually wheb the realization sets in that im stuck here for 72 hours plus, and ill be counting them down to stave off boredom. 15-30 minutes in to this third hour, ill be called in to meet tye psychiatrist, fisrt meeting with an attendee to fill out the generic details, then 30-45 minutes of diagnosis before im told ill be put on ab antidepressant, an anxiolytic, and tramodol, a sedative marketed as "something to help me sleep" and "another antidepressant" which makes me laugh every time. Tramodol is the auppressant, the "slow down" drug which helps keep everyobe on a nice, calm level thats safer for the orderlies. Were i violent, id concur; instead, i begin to wonder how long it will take before i no longer feel persistently asleep once i leave. A couple weeks, likely. Hopefully, the food will be good, but not likely 5 star- one place ive stayed had been cooking for us in the break room, sometimes PB&J, sometimes microwaved quesadillas. Maybe theyll have more drink options than coffee, water, and sugar-free koolaid- maybe not. Likely not. Some of us will complain; most of us will know it is a fruitless endeavor. After another group or two, it will be dinner, then wrap up group. We will discuss what progress we think we made today, and be sent to bed after meds are distributed in little paper ketchup cups. Most places wont do the "cuckoos nest" tongue check, but some will, particularly the ones with kleptos and pill ODers. Lights oyt will be around 10 pm, the beds will be plasticky and the blankets thin, and sleep will only cone rhanks to our sedatives. Day two, we'll be woken early, around 6-7, by an orderly checking our blood pressure and body temp. Well all gather in the hallway, rubbing sleep out of our eyes and head to the eating area for breakfast- which loooking back will likely be the best meal of the day, not the least be ause we have access to augar and caffiene. By now, i will likely have made a friend, probably with an older woman or two, and we will enjoy surreptitiously smirking at each other when the teoublemaker patwnt tries to get an omlette or something silly. Someone will start telling fanciful stories dreamed up in the night; talk will eventually turn to who is leaving today. The orderlies will be trying to not look too interested in what we reveal to each other instead of them. They will not succeed in this. Ths first morning they will use as a test of how i deal with frustration. An older nurse will act exasperated, as though taking care of me is a curse she was tasked with. She will try to cut theough any response i give her, and rudely discount anything i try to say, as if accuaing me of lying. Knowing it is coming doesnt help it hurt less. If it overwhelms me, ill be labeled as dramatic- if not, as detached. Sluggish from the new medications, i will be treated as though i ahould not be here, and will be led aroubd more quickly than i am rady to be. I will notice that part of it is that i am beginning to realize how broken down i feel i am. Reaching out will result in canned answers and "the doctor is busy's". After all, this iant about me, and theyve seen my type before. At lunch, i will be upset by the bland meal, abd ask if they have any hot sauce, or maybethey will be out of a preferred tea, or the food will not be enough to feed me. The newcomer who arrived at morning group will share a look with the quiet patient. I will try not to notice the parallels. A therapist will ask to talk to me today. It may be a nice session, but will essebtially boil down to "let me give you ideas for solving your problems, so that your depression seems more managed." By the end of the day, they will already begin my release plan. Theyve fixed me, they are sure. I will also get my clothes back. The aurvey will be slightly different today; instead of asking on a scale of 1-10 with 1 being best abd 10 being worst how was my day, it will be the opposite: scale of 1-10 with 1 being worst and 10 being best. This way, they can track how much is me being honest, and how much is me remembering numbers to fake it. (Once, a nurse messed up so often that it was a sentence by sentence change). Later, if there is any improvement, it will be used by the hospital as signs that treatment is helping; if it gets worse, that i had a rough day and shouldnt think much of it. Bedtime will come, and i will relish it- being sedated takes a lot out of a person. When morning comes, the eggs will feel soggy and cereal with be a much better choice. A bagel will be carried into morning group and more DBT will be discussed. I will mostly be checked out; they are pulling most of their material from a 12 step program, and the leader is a student of psychology learning how to help people, but ive heard it all before, and that sense of guilt just pushes me towards suicide harder. At this point, ill feel just how desperate they are to get me out; nurses eill hint at things being the "wrong" answer with " you dont REALLY mean that, do you sweetie?" and " well, you cant keep thinking THAT way, or we'll have to keep you here longer." Boredom and longing for home will encourage me to pretend to be better, and not tell them how last night before falling asleep i stared at the vedfrane wondering if i could take it apart and form a springwire noose, or tear the blankets to make a rope. When they ask if im feeling better, it will actually mean "are you done with your timeout from reality? Have you learned how to fit in properly yet?" The meds wont really begin having a noticable effect for months- they know im lying. What they hope for is a glimmer of hope and a mountain of guilt for wanting to hurt others by hurting myself. Ill fake those, too. Still, ill be misgendered. Still, theyll blame hormones and buzzfeed rather than neurology and chemistry. After all, im well-adjusted, not at all like the Caitlyn Jenners and Wachowskis they read about on their facebooks. Its just a phase, and im just confused. I didnt try to hurt myself- nothing is *really* wrong with me. What can i do? Try and strangle myaelf, or others? That just means im lashing out, and ill get a new med regime and another 3 days, this time strapped down. Being strapped to a bed and left alone is mind-numbingly boring. If i tell them i still want to kill myaelf, theyll just nod their head and tell me it will go away soon; if i say i have a plan, rheyll keep me playing chess and reading AA papers until i apologize. Their job is not to fix me, their job is to stabilize me and make sure i dont break myself more. The fixing is my responsibility. Day four is release day. They will claim i have made improvements and have me fill out an action plan for when i feel depressed again. It will include people i can call, and ways i can push through bad feelings. It is my exit exam.when i pass, ill be set up with a therapist outside the hospital later in the week, and told how to connect with various resources. They will think i didnt know there were trans support groups. I will think that if it was just a support group i needed, i wouldnt dream of death. Neither of us will admit these things. And so, ill come back to school. Late on homework, i will have to prostrate myaelf with dictors note beggibg for forgiveness. I will get it, more due to policy than empathy, and at the end of the day, i will lay in bed, stare up at the ceiling, and contemplate which of my top three anchor spots would be the best ending to my story. Other than medical bills, nothing will have changed. Life drones on. I think i understand why death seems,so much better. In death, i can pretend there is a solution. In death, i can imagine a cure. In death, i can envision a caretaker and easier existence. It doesnt matter that death is the end of it all- i can pretend it willl be more, and my imagination can create many comforts in that void. But even death is a lie, and nothing will ever stop hurting.