#I'm just like. trying not to think about it. not bc it bothers me when I do but bc it's probably for the best

[protectoroffaeries]

I've mentioned this story in various tags before but the whole thing is a little long for that, and relevant enough (I hope) to warrant a rare reply from me.

So I'm a trans man, but I'm also very likely intersex. I know this because as a teenager (16), I started growing a ton of hair everywhere (hirsuitism), and my parents were worried I might have PCOS, though I don't have any other indicators of that. Nor was I complaining about the hirsuitism - I had a beard LONG before I got access to T, and that worked for me. But they explained PCOS to me, and I was like well, I'll do the tests for that because if I do have it, I want to treat it. So I do ALL sorts of really invasive medical testing, during which 1) I develop a complex about how my genitals look because of how the doctor described them (combined with the hirsuitism, this is what makes me think I'm intersex) and 2) I learn I do not have PCOS.

Still, there was a lot of hullabaloo about the hair, especially the facial hair. So, even though I was not having sex and expressed zero desire to start hormonal birth control, I was prescribed it because literally everyone in my life except me was Worried About The Thick Dark Hair On My Face And Body. And like, okay, my parents have their flaws (more on that later), but they did what they thought was best for me, so I was like if they are so worried about this, I will try it.

And it did soften, lighten, and minimize the hair growth! But it also exacerbated my severe anxiety and depression in two separate ways: 1) it intensified what I now know is gender dysphoria, and 2) it literally altered the way my thought patterns function. It's hard to describe, but basically, my mind is very active, very chaotic, and very "loud". I am always thinking about a dozen different things, jumping around, visualizing words and images a lot. When I was on BC, all of that disappeared. It was silent. When I wasn't actively doing something, my brain felt turned off. It was uncanny and uncomfortable for me, and as a creative writer, it made it impossible for me to mentally work on writing projects in the background of day-to-day life.

I knew my parents would not understand either of these things (I never received any mental health care as a minor either, despite desperately needing it since I was a young teen), so I just stopped taking them. Just got rid of them in secret.

(I want to pause and say I am very pro birth control and birth control access. Even though it was bad for me, I know many people who use it treat chronic health conditions of their own, which is not even mentioning the way that being able to have sex without the risk of pregnancy is life-changing for the better. I believe it improves the quality of life for people who have an informed choice and the ability to go on and off it as they so require.)

Now, I have a younger sister who is also trans. She has known she's trans since she was very young. She tried to come out multiple times throughout her preteen and teen years before our parents acknowledged that she was serious. When she was 16, she begged them to let her go on estrogen. And they told her no. Even though the psychiatrist they got her straight up told them they'd be bad parents not to (my sister is still understandably mad about this tactless approach, but I can't say they were wrong).

They said they were worried she would regret it, that it was an adult decision, that she should wait and make it on her own, that they didn't want to be responsible for it if she changed her mind later, etc. etc. And I've always found this argument fascinating because I was like well. You put me on estrogen when I was 16 even though I was neutral to it, and then you created an environment where I felt like I couldn't be honest about how badly it was hurting me. And they have always staunchly maintained that was different. Which it was! My sister had been telling them for like half a decade she was a girl. And I told them I wasn't bothered by the fucking beard.

And so like, circling back to the children's rights and trans rights point - we were both sixteen. It was the same hormone. But the anti-trans fearmongering and parents' rights rule of law made it so that they had the power to choose to hurt us both in order to make us conform to our assigned sexes, even though we directly told them what our concerns were and weren't.

And look, I love my parents, I don't think they're like, demons or anything - I think they were ignorant and extremely scared about how the world would treat their queer children. But I will say, that also, they were not that interested in medical care beyond preventative care. Acute issues were handled at home. Chronic issues weren't treated at all - and I spent a decade self-managing severe, untreated OCD that makes me a bit resentful of that.

Like I'm in my mid-20s now. I've spent my entire adulthood thus far trying to make up for these parents' rights medical assertions that were wrong for me. That I conveyed, in all the ways a kid who loves their parents and is subjected to their control can, were wrong for me. And my sister's in the same boat. It's absolutely the same fight, trans rights and childrens' rights.

in a world where a prominent branch of anti-trans activism focuses on fearmongering about "parents' rights," trans rights and youth rights become inextricable.

trans kids deserve to be called the right pronouns and the right name by schools and doctor's offices, regardless of "parental consent." trans kids deserve to undergo the right puberty at the same time as their cis peers, regardless of "parental consent."

the very concept of "parents' rights" is a smokescreen that enables the abuse and dehumanization of children by adults. this is bad for cis kids, too.

[colorlessjay]

@colorlessjay I recently saw your thread about detective Dean and DA Cas, which is awesome and thank you for asking the OP for more because it is *chef kiss* (don't worry I told them that as well lol) However, it did get me thinking about other crime world Destiel combos and I keep getting stuck on Detective Dean and department psychologist/therapist Cas. Like the force is corrupt and Dean (the righteous man) isn't. He does his job and tries to keep out of trouble (he really does but trouble always seems to find him) but he's not afraid to step in and do what's right whenever he sees other officers trying to pull shit. However, the media and public LOVE him, he's the department's media darling and he's actually good at his job so he's reluctantly given promotion after promotion through gritted teeth and too tight handshakes and the force can't get rid of him (and he keeps surviving their attempts at sending him into dangerous situations w/o backup, pitting him against intimidating suspects by himself, not covering him, etc.) Anyway, to be petty the police Chief (Chuck) declares that he has "behavioral/anger issues" and mandates weekly therapy (bc we all know that would be a punishment for Dean) and he only goes because he has to. He hates every second of it as Amara sometimes forgoes all front of therapy and just makes awkward passes at him. But one day everything changes. ---

Dean drags himself down the two flights of stairs, his legs getting heavier the closer he draws to the dreaded room.

I don't have to go, Dean tells himself, basking in the fragment of comfort the thought of free will gives him. But it's a lie. Because he'll get suspended, or stuck on desk duty, or maybe even fired finally if he doesn't go to Chuck's weekly mandated torture sessions. And he can't let that happen. He can't let people like Gordon and Christian take over the station, looking the other way for a few bucks, letting prejudice cloud their investigations, shooting first and asking questions later, or flat out not investigating at all. No, he'll be cold in his grave before he lets that happen. He doesn't bother to knock when he finally manages to drag himself toward the door, just pushes in with a sigh. "I'm here. Let's get this over with, Am- Um, who the hell are you and where is Amara?" Dean sputters at the stranger standing in the corner of Amara's office, hackles going up because, to his knowledge, he's the only regular 'patient' of the department psychologist. "Oh. Did they not tell you? I was certain you'd been informed," the mystery man mumbles before shaking his head and seeming to collect himself, "Dr. Shurley has taken a leave of absence, and I am filling in for her." The man is, Dean has to admit, attractive. He has dark hair that looks like it would curl wildly if the man didn't tame it; blue eyes filled to the brim with intelligence and curiosity; and his body, though hidden behind layers of shirt and suit jacket and trench coat, appears well maintained and strong. This changes nothing, Dean reminds himself, Amara was attractive too. Just get through these sessions so you can get back out there and protect people as best you can. "You're Detective Sergeant Winchester, I presume?" the new shrink asks, reaching out a hand to him.

"Yeah. And you are?" Dean responds, his voice a little more clipped than he meant it to be as he pointedly doesn't take the man's hand. "Sorry, right. I'm Dr. Castiel Novak." Dean catches what might be a blush of embarrassment on the doc's cheeks as he slowly begins retracting his hand and a twang of guilt thrums through Dean. C'mon, Winchester, what has this guy ever done to you? Hmm. He's just trying to do his job. Whatever happened to 'innocent until proven guilty'? Just because he's working in this hellhole doesn't automatically make him corrupt. "Well, welcome to hell, Dr. Novak," Dean says as he reaches out to halt the retreating appendage. Castiel's hand is warm in his and surprisingly callused. He ignores the heat that zips up his arm and down his spine, refusing to let this man affect him. The handshake goes on for too long, but Dean doesn't know how to let go. Thankfully, the doc pulls his hand away first and gestures to the couch and chairs across the room. Dean expects Dr. Novak to sit at his desk or stand against it while Dean takes his usual position on the side of the couch closest to the exit, a power move to remind Dean that he's not in charge in here. But once again, the man suppresses him, opting to sit in the uncomfortable looking chair across from Dean. "So, hell? Care to explain that?" Dr. Novak asks casually as he sheds the trench coat onto the back of the chair, pulling out a small notebook and a pen before turning burning blue eyes onto him. "Nope. If you're smart, you know exactly what I meant, and if you aren't well, these sessions are going to be a blast," Dean hurls, the earlier excitement over the attractive man going flat as he prepares to grit his teeth for the next 57 minutes. "So, you gonna start recording now, Cas, or what?" Dean had hoped using the nickname he'd come up with for the odd man before him would give him the upper hand, would make him feel somewhat in control, but it backfires. Because as soon as the doctor hears the nickname he smiles and tilts his head, eyes focusing somewhere in the distance over Dean's shoulder. "Cas? Hmm. I don't think anyone's given me that nickname before, but I like it. Far less presumptuous than Dr. Novak and much less of a mouth full than Castiel. Hmm, yes. And, would you prefer to go by Detective Winchester or Dean?" Dean nearly jerks in his seat as Cas says his name in that low gravelly voice of his. Dean knows he should ask Cas to call him Detective Winchester, should maintain distance and whatever higher ground he can hold onto, but, well, he also deserves some small thing to help make these sessions bearable.

"De-, uh, Dean is fine. I mean I'm gonna be here every week, so we might as well skip to the first name basis and save ourselves some time. So, uh, recording? And how's this gonna work? You gonna just pick up where Amara left off?" Dean asks again, fidgeting in his seat and wanting to get this over with. "Oh, no. I thought we'd just make this an introductory session, so I wasn't going to record it, but I can if you'd prefer...?" Cas stares at him, a small smile teasing his lips again when Dean shakes his head. "Good. Now, in full disclosure, I do have Dr. Shurley's notes and recordings of your sessions." Dean, who'd relaxed a little at the knowledge this wouldn't be a recorded session, and he wouldn't have to waste so much energy picking and choosing every word with care, tenses up again. He eyes Cas up, trying to figure out what he'd heard, anxiety and frustration building in unison as he realizes he cares what Cas thinks of him. "Look, about those. I don't know how far you've gotten into them but I-" "Dean," Cas says his name in such an odd combination of command and plea that Dean's jaw snaps shut. "I haven't listened to anything, just glanced at your overall file. I want to form my own opinion of you, take my own measure of what kind of man you are, before I look at what my predecessor thought." Something warm and bubbling and starts building in Dean's chest cavity, something that feels a lot like hope. Because maybe, just maybe, if Chuck and his cronies haven't gotten to Cas like they had Amara, then he might just get out of having to do this every week. "Thanks, uh, thanks. That, um, that sounds good to me." "So, let's start with something light and easy. Why did you decide to join the force?" Dean can't help but laugh. "Sorry, man. Hate to tell you but that story isn't really 'light and easy.'" Dean explains as Cas does that head tilt thing again that it fast tracking its way into being adorable. "I wanted to be a detective since I was a kid. My dad was a cop and mom's dad was a cop, it's kind of the family business. And I was no different, especially after our mom was murdered. I wanted to be just like him, to serve and protect. To help the people who were overlooked or couldn't help themselves, to catch the bad guys. I was so damn excited whenever I graduated, even if I was just a beat cop." Dean looks up in time to see Cas' eyes squint as bitterness enters his voice. "It wasn't what you had hoped it would be, working with your father?"

Damn. He's good. Should probably watch what I say. "Yeah. I was shadowing different departments and when I was manning the evidence storage my dad came by. Asked me, asked me to let him in without signing the log. Said some bullshit about forgetting to label evidence and this being faster than submitting all the paperwork and, and I, I believed him," Dean stares at the ceiling, trying to force back emotions he'd long thought he'd repressed, but needing to tell Cas this, needing to see his reaction to the corruption. "You were young, Dean." "Yeah, I was young, but I wasn't stupid. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway. Because it was him and, and I wanted to make him proud of me. It took me a month to realize he'd destroyed evidence and let a criminal walk free. A whole fucking month to realize the man I'd looked up to my whole life was a myth, a good fucking story but nothing else." "What did you do, then, once you realized?" Cas asks, no judgement in his voice and that is almost worse. Because Dean deserves to be judged, deserves some punishment for the part he played. "I thought about quitting, about transferring. But I couldn't. Not when I started seeing just how deep it all went. Not when so many of the other's covered for him. So, I blew the whistle. Right after I'd just received that commendation from the mayor and the media was all over me, so they couldn't fire me but that didn't stop them from sweeping it under the rug. They let him retire with full honors and I got labeled a rat. That's really why I'm here. Chuck's only form of retaliation besides outright harassment."

Silence permeates the room, and Dean gets antsy the longer it goes on, the longer Cas stares at him with wide blue eyes that seem to see into his very soul. He rubs the back of his neck, then the tops of his thighs when that still doesn't dispel his anxious energy. "You blame yourself for the criminal that went free, even though it was our father's actions and choices that led to his release." It's not a question, but a realization, full of empathy and kindness that Dean can't stand. "Yeah, I do blame myself. I helped him, I knew it was wrong, and you know what, people go hurt because of it. Their blood will always be on my hands 'cause I wasn't strong enough to tell my old man no," Dean growls, needing Cas to understand that, while the media portrays him as this shining knight, he isn't good, he has just as much black on his soul as the rest of the department and the only difference is that he's trying to atone for his sins. "Dean, I would like to try something slightly unorthodox, if you'll humor me," Cas says after another severely long silence. "Uh, okay, um, sure," Dean agrees, somewhat caught off guard that Cas isn't challenging him. "Could you please stand up?" Cas asks, as he stands as well, closing the small space between them to stand in front of Dean. Dean obeys, still not sure what is going on. A joke he was going to make dies on his tongue as he realizes that Cas is a few inches shorter than him, making Dean have to tilt his head just a bit to meet his eyes, making the stand off feel less like they're getting ready to turn ten paces and draw and more like lovers meeting by moonlight.Yeah, totally have a concussion from that tackle earlier. Yup, that has to be the reason I'm staring at his lips. Fuck, stop looking at his lips! Dean's trying so hard not to be entranced that it fully takes him by surprise when Cas' hands go beneath his arms and around his back. He's so shocked that he leans into it when Cas tugs him closer, when his arms wrap around him out of habit. And then he's hanging on, even when he does come to his senses. Gripping Cas like a lifeline, grasping at the support he wasn't expecting to be given. "You're not alone, Dean," Cas murmurs.

Dean breaks. Cas might not be able to hear his sobs, but Dean knows he feels them. It's in the way Cas holds on a little tighter, in the way he doesn't pull back even though the hug has gone on far too long. When Dean finally stops and gets a hold of himself, he pulls away and Cas lets him. He accepts the tissue Cas offers, shocked to find that embarrassment is not the predominant emotion he feels, relief is. Fuck, maybe Sam was right and there really is something to this therapy thing, Dean thinks as Cas sees him to the door. "Dean, I want you to know that this is a safe space for you. But I understand if, if you don't want to continue. And I will write a recommendation that you no longer need to come, in a few weeks of course when it won't be questioned, if that is what you want." "I- Thanks, Cas. That, uh, that means a lot and I'll, I'll think about it, okay? See you next week." --- Dean ends up continuing to go, because it turns out being able to vent and share about his frustrations on the job is really fucking helpful to his mental well-being. He finds himself turning more and more to Cas and less to Jack Daniel's when days are particularly rough, even popping in when he's not mandated to. Then something happens where the station is under attack, maybe a local gang (Knights of Hell?) but instead of going for the armory or evidence locker they beeline for Dr. Novak's office and Dean's mandated meeting. Dean goes into protector mode as they chase him and Cas through the alarmingly abandoned station, only, it turns out Cas doesn't need Dean's protection. Cas fends for himself just fine and even ends up saving Dean's ass from a surprise gunshot. Dean is framed for the attack, and other crimes (maybe kidnapping Cas?) and they go on the run. Dean demands answers. Turns out Cas was FBI the whole time, sent undercover to root out corruption. Now they have to figure out a way to get back into the station and grab Cas' hidden USB with the evidence to prove Dean's innocence (he was in an unscheduled recorded session with Cas when one of his supposed crimes took place) Oh, and Cas has a bullet graze from saving Dean, which Dean insists on cleaning and bandaging, though Cas says he can do it himself. And he absolutely doesn't suck in a breath or feel any type of way at seeing Cas without a shirt on and with rib tattoos. Nope. Also, Sam can be in the FBI too, maybe recruited by them at Stanford without Dean knowing and that's why Cas started looking into his precinct (because Dean holds dual records for cases solved and injuries incurred on the job or something like that) Also, there should be a scene where Dean has to be shirtless for some reason, and Cas sees his scars and gets very righteously upset on Dean's behalf. Also one of them comes up with being a couple to blend into a crowd at some point. And they kiss and Dean is like "fuck, I have Feelings for this guy, but we're going to solve this and then he's going to disappear" And they hide out at Bobby's and Bobby is all, "you like him" and Dean's like "yeah, what's not to like? He's smart and capable and he has my back-" "that's not what I meant, and you know it, ya idjit" And Dean just kind of whispers "he's gonna leave, Bobby. After all this is done, he goes back to the San Francisco field office, and I stay here and try and rebuild this department once we've cut out all the rot" "And, that doesn't mean he's dead. You still have a relationship with Sam and he's out there, sounds to me like you're looking for excuses" "What?" "You heard me, boy. You're looking for reasons it won't work 'cause you're scared." "I'm not sc-" "You look me in the eyes and tell me you're not trying to sabotage this because everyone over the years has gotten it into your head that the things you want will be taken from you?" Ok, that was definitely longer than I thought it was going to be 😅 As usual, I word vomit and dash lol

Noxemma it is too damn early for this kind of shit

I demand you DM me rn so I can give you my discord and I can info dump on you the IDEAS I just had

And then, after I finish my coms, I'm gonna draw art about this

Then I'm gonna kick your ass for sending this to me INSTEAD OF POSTING IT ON AO3 SO I CAN KUDOS AND LINK IT PROPERLY

STOP SENDING ME THESE BANGERS AS IF I HAVE THE RIGHT TO THEM

TAG ME IN YOUR POSTS INSTEAD SO I CAN REBLOG THESE MASTERPIECES

I'M GONNA STEAL YOUR KITCHEN

[cuephrase]

re: that pool scene in titans #5 (2008)

(full scene + analysis included below the cut)

i completed my post-crisis titans read through this week, which was incredibly fun even if i am in MOURNING, but that also meant i finally got to read that dickkory pool scene in full with proper context and, surprise, surprise, i have Opinions.

i am a dickkory shipper, and seeing how their relationship was navigated post-editorial fiasco is very, very interesting to me. at the time of this comics publication, i do think on the editorial side of things dick and kory still were not allowed to be a couple. which is Fine ™️, but with dick solidly single and the both of them on the team, presenting an in-universe reason for them to not get back together Makes Sense. it 100% makes sense. i am not at all bothered by their relationship being explored in-canon. does it frustrate me to no end that they have chemistry that can’t be ignored that gets reduced to sexual attraction and set aside, yes but that’s separate. but i am more dissatisfied than i'm not by how winick wrote this, although i do really like aspects of it.

what do i like about this scene

i like that kory essentially stands up for herself. because she knows that if they were to get back together right now, it wouldn’t be…real the way she wants it to be. because like, the thing is, on the kory side of it, she has always loved him. she cares about him so deeply, in a way that, quite frankly, dick rarely reciprocates post editorial fiasco. (and i say rarely, not never, bc he has. it’s just. it’s not balanced.) it’s not fair to her to get into a situationship with dick.

like. it’s not fair of dick to put her in this situation. they both know each other too well. and honestly, because of that, because of how well they know each other, it wouldn’t be fair of kory to entertain this from dick either.

so i think overall, it is a good thing for them to not get back together because they couldn’t have the relationship either of them want or need without hurting each other. and that’s honestly like. really fucking hard to acknowledge and act upon. so this is very mature and responsible and it’s painful but like again, it Makes Sense. in the broad strokes.

what do i not like about this scene

first and foremost, the immediate trivialization of their history with “we became a couple when we were very young.”

personal bias aside, this upsets me on two main fronts.

a) there was nothing kiddie about dick and kory’s relationship. like, and this is not shade to cassie and kon or tim and steph, but dick and kory were not a couple of 15/16 year olds who got together and had a teen’s first romance. dick and kory were young adults, but they were very mature about their relationship — the biggest problem was probably when kory broke up with him to try and save her people, and then maybe the thing with mirage, but like that breakup did the most damage easily. and they recovered from that. it was literally a stable, supportive, steady years long, like years long in-universe, relationship. dick hasn’t had any relationship last that long since.

b) this is not so much relevant to this specific scene, but looking at it from like. present day. it is supremely frustrating to me to see, essentially, the childhood friend angle be used to trivialize dick and kory’s relationship when they manufactured a close childhood relationship between dick and babs in post-flashpoint and use that to push them as made for each other.

bc like. imo. dick and babs don’t need to have been childhood besties to be interested in each other as adults and have a strong connection. like, completely tossing my personal bias aside again, i do think there are viable, pre-existing reasons in canon for dick and babs to Work.

but they choose to manufacture the childhood friends angle. the specific thing that they use, more than once, to trivialize dick and kory in canon post-editorial fiasco, is the exact thing they co-opted for dickbabs.

and it upsets me bc it feels very much like they were trying to nudge readers into letting things go with dickkory and saying “yes it was sweet and it’s fun to reminisce but c’mon. we’re grown up now.” like it’s just nostalgia. it’s. i’m being dramatic, but it’s insulting.

ESPECIALLY BC.

2) there are, imo, ways to write friends to lovers to friends that is emotionally satisfying and feels true to character…and this isn’t it.

but dc doesn’t want to properly tie off dick and kory bc they sell —whether they’re together or not. this scene, for all the things i like about it, is not a properly closed door. it’s a clunky “not right now” at best, a “right person, never the right time” at worst. which, i will say rn, i’m reserving some judgement bc this is at the start of a run and any romance is a subplot ofc and they’re certainly not going to explore all of this in a satisfying, definitive way in a single issue with very little preamble/build up.

3) is like. an extension of 2, but the phrasing of things is smth that bugs me a Lot. in part bc i think people are susceptible to missing a lot of crucial information when they read comics, either bc they're seeing a panel out of context, or bc they piss on the poor. but also bc it makes me feel like Conspiracy Board McGee to quibble over some of these but who am i if i do not nitpick words and sentence structure and meaning. so we're gonna go through some of this dialogue.

“Absolutely. Not an unfamiliar emotion [lust] between the two of us.”

(word in bracket is mine)

screams. yes, i get that this is, to an extent, playful banter. yes, ik that dickkory have had sex a ton of times and find each other extremely attractive.

but it bugs the shit out of me bc none of that is the core reason why they got together or why they lasted and i have seen people take this panel, and others in a similar vein, to say that sexual chemistry is all dick and kory have going for them. WRONG. and also- no i can’t dive into the characterization, that would have to be separate. (although i will say i don’t think it’s flat out OOC for dick to say this.)

“I don’t think we should ever let it happen again.”

to me, ‘it’ is about them hooking up outside of a relationship. i’m only aware of them doing this one other time post-editorial fiasco, which was also written by winick, and dick was in a Low and kory knew it. i wholeheartedly agree that it would be bad for them to make a habit out of this bc they had put a lot of work into being friends and figuring that out.

but again, some people see this and think kory is saying they should never be a couple again. which i can’t like. refute as well as i want to be able to bc of how the rest of this scene goes. (see: Conspiracy Board McGee)

“…It happens when times are tough. Or when we’re lonely.”

WHO IS WE. KORY (to the best of my knowledge and maybe i’m wrong) HAS NEVER GONE TO DICK FOR SEX SINCE THEIR WEDDING WENT UP IN RAVEN-DARKNESS WHEN SHE’S DOWN. she’s tried to rekindle, bc she’s in love with him, but dick turns her down. when they hook up? DICK. GOES. TO. HER. THERE IS NO WE.

clears throat ahem. excuse me. i resent the idea that they are mutually using each other bc of past history and easy access and nothing else.

“Do you love me?” “Kory, you know I—” “Dick, You know very well what I mean. Not a someone you will “always” love or who occupies a special place in your heart. Do you love me? In the way that means forever? In a way that we never have to find excuses?” “No.”

brace yourself bc we’re about to go FULL NITPICK NANCY meets CONSPIRACY BOARD MCGEE.

now. in my dickkory biased af heart, what kory is really asking here is if dick, as he is right now, can commit to her. can he be in a serious relationship right now? and dick is saying, wisely, no.

but i can admit that i have to reach for that and someone without any bias may look at that and go “your delusional.” FAIR ENOUGH.

but like. ik i’m crazy, okay, but tell me the scene doesn’t flow so much better and feel so much more in character if it goes like this:

“Can you love me?” “Kory, you know I—” “Dick, you know very well what I mean. Not as someone you will ‘always’ love or who occupies a special place in your heart. Can you love me? Right now. In a way that could mean forever. In a way that we never have to find excuses.” “No.”

LIKE DO YOU SEE THE VISION. DO YOU SEE HOW CLOSE AND YET SO FAR.

bc i kinda hate the way the og could read like kory is giving dick an ultimatum, like he needs to be able to promise forever if they’re going to restart a relationship. like. if you’ve been steady and a ‘forever’-type of commitment is something you and your partner have discussed and wanted to head towards and you feel like things have changed on their end, by all means, ask. but that’s not what this is. this would be restarting a relationship. if they were to get back into a relationship, they’d need to be aware of and comfortable with the fact that it might not work out, imo, not “we’re going to make this work or else.”

in conclusion

the foundation for some powerful and very necessary character growth and development is laid here. there are aspects of this scene that i genuinely enjoy, as bittersweet as they are.

taken all together, i think, if i try to pretend i know nothing about them or their history and am not ship biased, it could look like a moment where two people realize they should never be together again, where they say the uncomfortable truth out loud, admit it to themselves and each other. which is not, in a general sense, bad writing.

however i don’t like it, with my knowledge of them restored. bc in light of all of their history, which is relevant context that cannot be ignored, the argument being made is that they were, primarily, sex to each other. and that’s just untrue. not to mention an unnecessary message to try and push when this scene could have been just as significant, arguably more so, if it had been written as the moment two people realize they cannot get back together right now, even if it would be "easy" to. that's an uncomfortable truth to admit too.

[july-19th-club]

one thing about being in too much pain to uphold social niceties (period and it's a bad one) is that i did spend all day at work not only doubled over and moving at a pace the ninety year old library ladies were lapping but i was even worse than usual at tasks like Looking At People Who Are Chewing Gum and "not edging away bugeyed when a coworker stands close next to me" and of course the perennial favorite "keeping track of more than three words spoken to me in a row and responding to that" and we'll let me merely say. it is just me and that murderbot. nobody else in this whole damn library understands

[nyxypoo]

i feel like i've been a lot more hesitant to interact with new moots lately unfortunately

[sweetevoltrap]

Sylus reclaiming Little Bomb as a teasing nickname...

[janniks1nner]

to me Casper’s answer (along with the rest of tennis’ general attitude towards zverev) was a representation of how a lot of the players feel, or their lack of feeling tbh. cherry picking who gets called out and then posting about faves as if they don’t share similar sentiments seems odd and hypocritical

i don't think i did that? i didn't even call anyone out. i just said my personal reaction to that answer was to be particularly pissed off. i'm well aware, and i said so, that they're all part of the problem, including my faves

[born-to-lose]

First concert of the year in two weeks!!!

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[offthewall1979]

my review of Moonwalk: hot mess. ★★★.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

re my last post it's not even that I feel that bad about it. emotionally I'm fine? it's just that I look at myself and I'm like. packing black formal clothes. listening to The Black freaking Parade while my grandpa has heart surgery. and I'm just like... something is WRONG with me. who does this. something's wrong with me

[waves-of-august]

And suddenly the thought of having someone else there in place of him is something I required-wanted-needed, in the most severe of ways. And I don't really care who, anyone else at all will do.

(The Way I Used to Be - Amber Smith)

[kirsakarasu]

Life is truly just a constant string of misery w some good moments in between & as you get older those good moments become further & further spread apart

[whydoyouquitworkingonme]

.

[xoxojisu]

"DON'T STOP LOVING ME."

synopsis: things were always easy between you and katsuki. until suddenly, they weren't. (aka you pull back and katsuki notices and hates it)

notes: ALWAYS w the unofficialbf!katsuki agenda. wc ~5k. childhood bffs bc duh. barely proofread sorry

ever since you were three years old with your scraped knees and sticky fingers to now, where teenage life could not be more confusing, there has always been one, unwavering, constant fact.

you're absolutely, utterly, head-over-heels in love with bakugo katsuki.

and you've never been afraid to show it! backhugs, tackling him to the floor, jumping on top of him and climbing him like a jungle gym, telling him you love him like it's the most obvious thing in the world. (it is)

he always scoffs and grumbles, but you'd never take it personally, because when he tells you to get off, he pulls you close. when he complains that you're annoying when you're sick, he brings you soup and medicine and cuddles you to sleep. when he blushes and tells you he hates you, his eyes tell a different story.

so what if he doesn't express it the same way you do? everyone has different ways of showing they care. even if he doesn't say it much, you know katsuki loves you.

right?

-

it was late when you accidentally overheard it. when you froze up and felt your heart drop to the floor. when you started shaking and sweating, eyes darting around for a trash can in case you threw up.

"bakugo, bro, when are you and y/n gonna make it official?" kirishima had teased, throwing an arm around katsuki.

katsuki scoffed and shoved him off. "tch. it's not like that."

"you suuure?" sero questioned. "you two seem awfully close for just friends."

"mannn, if i was bakugo, i'd be all over that. y/n is such a pretty girl!" kaminari chimed in, clearly jealous over his lack of love life.

the teasing continued. you couldn't see him from your angle, but you knew that katsuki definitely had a vein on his forehead that was getting larger by the second.

"you're always carrying her bag, walking her to class.."

"cuddling with her during movie nights, scratching her back.."

"oh! and don't forget how she never forgets to tell him she loooves him whenever they say goodbye!"

"c'mon, bakubro, just spit it out! you two are practically married already!"

the three laughed heartily, clearly enjoying the rise they were getting out of katsuki.

"all of you, shut the hell up!"

"just admit it. you're in love."

he gritted his teeth.

"i'm not in love." he grimaced, venomous anger bubbling to the surface.

"she's just there all the fucking time! always fucking doing girlfriend-y shit when she knows damn well she's not! always clinging and trying to cuddle and all that stupid sappy shit. she's just an annoying fuckin' habit ive learned to tolerate." he spat.

you froze.

what?

was he serious? like, really, truly, deadass serious? you knew he wasn't exactly the super affectionate type, but even still! you thought he really cared about you! clingy? annoying? tolerated?

your head spun as you broke out into a cold sweat. you could've sworn that that wasn't true. you and katsuki have been friends forever. surely he wouldve gotten rid of you by now if he hated you that much, right? and he cuddles you! and hangs out with you! he takes care of you when you're sick! there's just no way, right? he's just angry because he's being teased, right?

..right?

"damn, dude, that's pretty harsh," sero snickered. "you always take care of her, though, no?"

you held your breath.

"tch. doesn't fuckin' mean shit. just gotten used to her because she's been around so long."

your stomach dropped to the basement. he tolerated you. he thought of you as nothing more than an annoying habit.

insecurity pooled inside of you. now that you think about it, was he really cuddling you, or just not bothering to move you off when you laid on him? maybe he just thought you were too much of a hassle to get rid of when you came to hangout, so he just let you stay even thought he didn't want to. when he brought you medicine and stuff, maybe your sickness made you delirious and made you think he was being more affectionate and caring than he really was.

you felt nauseated. you recall all the times you threw a quick "i love you!" over your shoulder or while you clung to him. had he ever once said it back? ever? the room started spinning as you realized you couldn't think of a single time. he'd always deflected. gave you a classic "tch." rolled his eyes. messed up your hair. you dont think you'd ever even heard the word "love" from his lips.

had you just been deluding yourself all this time?

you couldn't take it anymore. sweating, you sprinted out before you could be spotted.

-

it's been two days since you overheard that conversation, and you'd been avoiding katsuki ever since. or rather, not quite avoiding completely, but there was an undeniable shift in your behavior. you stopped trying to cuddle with him. you stopped showing up to his dorm room to hangout. you especially stopped saying "i love you," even though it killed you every time.

katsuki hadn't shown much of a reaction to your change in behavior. he'd raise an eyebrow when your usual daily hugs disappeared or ask a gruff, "where were you?" when you didn't show up to your unofficial but completely established after school hangouts, but he had otherwise put up no protest.

you didn't know whether to be relieved or heartbroken.

on one hand, katsuki's kind of scary when he's confrontational. also, you don't know how you would be able to talk to him. "i overheard a conversation where you said you hate me but im madly in love with you and want to marry you and have your kids?" yeah right. you were sort of glad to be getting off easy.

but on the other hand, you were devastated. his apathy served as further confirmation that he meant every word he said. he really didn't mind that you were pulling back, and seemed perfectly content not being nearly as close as before.

you really had been deluding yourself. secretly, you had been hoping that he was just saying stuff in the heat of the moment and would actually be upset if you pulled back. because that would mean he cared. but he didn't give two shits about you. you really were just some stupid childhood habit he'd learned to tolerate.

you became less energetic as a person. not just with katsuki, but simply in general. your days seemed unbearably longer and darker without him. you had a hard time engaging and staying in the present, your mind wandering to katsuki again and again. it was pathetic, really. you two had never even dated. why were you so hung up about it? you two were just friends, and in fact, it seemed like he never even liked you in the first place. you were just stupidly hopeful and naive.

-

katsuki was dying.

two days. it had been two fucking days since you'd touched him or even just been remotely affectionate with him and he was going crazy. hell, he'd give the whole damn world even for just a smile at this point. he was desperate.

he didnt understand why you were being like this. it was like everything he knew about you had shifted, and he was just standing there, waiting for some kind of sign or something like an idiot.

katsuki had noticed the shift in your behavior immediately. of course he did. he knows you better than he knows himself, after all. at first, he thought you were just playing some dumb game or pulling some stunt to get his attention, but that wasn’t it. you waved instead of hugging. said a simple "bye" instead of "love you, bye bye!" it's not like you were completely avoiding him. you still talked. you still laughed. only now, it didn't quite reach your eyes.

and it was fucking killing him.

he hated that you were pulling back. he hated how off everything felt. he hated how fucking empty his dorm room felt when you weren't there to pester him. but most of all, he hated how he couldn’t even figure out what he'd done wrong. he couldn't think of any fights or reasons to be angry, but if that wasn't it, what was it? why were you suddenly just.. leaving?

he wanted to confront you. he wanted to pull you aside and demand to know where the fuck you went. but for the first time in his entire life, he didn't know how. because this wasn't like confronting stupid deku about his new powers. it wasn't about asking icyhot what his fuckin' deal was. it was you. his whole fucking world, even if he never said it out loud. he was nothing short of terrified to ask, because he feared it would drive you away even further, and he couldn't think of any alternate universe where he'd be able to handle that.

he found himself looking for excuses to be near you, to talk to you, to just be around you in any way possible. the last two days had been a torture of silence, of missed chances to sit next to you or casually reach out and tug you into his space like he used to. the times when he’d shove his arm around your shoulders or playfully mess with your hair, it had all stopped. he didn't feel like he could anymore. like he'd somehow lost the privilege. and now, all he was left with was this gnawing feeling in his gut that something was horribly wrong.

he had finally worked up the courage and tried asking you once, but you had shut him down with that all-too-familiar "nothing, just tired" bullshit and that damn closed-off look on your face that made him feel completely hollowed out.

he was desperate. he needed to feel you. needed to hear your bright laughter and see your stupid smile. it was so fucking stupid and sappy and so unlike him, but he couldn't even bring himself to care about that. he needed to cuddle with you until you fell asleep. have you curl up on his chest and get swallowed up by his much larger frame and watch you as your breathing quickly evened out from his touch. you could never stay awake long when cuddling with him. he found himself smiling at the thought.

he scowled. this is so fucking stupid. he thought to himself.

-

it all came to a bubbling point for him on friday. 5 whole days of "hi's" and a half-smile instead of "KATSUKIIIII's," and a running hug. he was losing his fucking mind.

usually, you convinced him to join the weekly 1a movie night by taking his hand and dragging him out of his room. he'd grumble about it, but he'd never refuse. he'd sit on the corner of the couch and you'd sit close to him before gradually inching closer, the night ending with you two cuddling. now, he willingly trudges to movie night of his own free will and sits in the same corner of the couch, but this time alone.

the room buzzed with quiet chatter and the flicker of the TV as the opening credits rolled and iida turned the lights off. it was some dumb romcom movie katsuki couldn't bring himself to care about in the slightest. you would definitely like it, though. kirishima passed around popcorn, sero argued with kaminari over which movie was the best, deku was doing his stupid nerd rambling as todoroki and hagakure gawked at him. and you? you sat on the other end of the couch.

not just away, but away from him.

the usual spot right beside katsuki, practically in his lap, head on his shoulder, knees draped over his thighs sat empty. you sat next to mina instead, curling into the armrest and pulling your legs up to your chest. you offered sweet smiles to everyone, laughed when something was funny, made conversation when prompted. but katsuki saw it. he saw you.

and he saw that you weren’t you.

he stared.

throughout the entire first half of the movie, he barely processed a single second of it. he kept looking over, waiting for you to glance at him, to shift closer, to give him a sign, anything, but you stayed curled in on yourself, legs angled away from him. he hated it. he hated how you looked like you were trying to make yourself smaller. like you were trying to disappear.

katsuki’s heart thundered. his leg bounced impatiently. his jaw was tight. he couldn’t take this shit anymore.

he stood up abruptly, catching your attention. he stalked straight over to you, jaw clenched and shoulders tense. he hovered over you, looking down and saying nothing.

you blinked up at him. "...what?"

his eyes were sharp and unreadable to most. but to you, who knew him better than he knew himself, you could see the anxiety and desperation swimming in his eyes.

no, no, no. remember, don't delude yourself. he doesn't like you, not even as a friend.

"are you okay..?"

"no." he snapped, his tone making you flinch. he softened at your reaction. "i just.. you've been.." he started, but his tone cracked, eyes flashing, and something in him snapped. "fuckin’ hell, just—"

he reached down and grabbed you.

gently, but with zero room for argument. strong arms slid under your knees and behind your back like it was the most natural thing in the world, and you barely had time to yelp before he was sitting down again, with you in his lap, pulled tight into his chest like you were his lifeline. (you are)

you froze, wide-eyed and stiff, but he just held you. his arms locked around you. he didn’t look at anyone else, didn’t give a shit about the stares or the knowing grins. he buried his face in your shoulder, muttering low and rough into your neck.

"i don't know what the fuck i did," he said. "but you don't get to just... take all that away. not from me."

you blinked, suddenly breathless.

he held you tighter. his voice cracked again, this time softer. "whatever i did, 'm sorry. i'll make it up t'ya, i swear. but don't just.." his voice trailed off. "dont stop loving me." he wanted to scream.

you felt your heart stutter, but you didn't say anything.

not at first, anyway.

because what is there to say when your heart is lodged in your throat and your body is caged in the arms of the person you swore you were going to get over?

you just sat there, crumpled in his lap like some lost puppy that finally found its way home again. your face is pressed into his shoulder, and you think if you speak, you’ll cry. so you don't. you just let yourself relax and melt into him.

he doesn’t say anything else either. his grip doesn’t loosen, not even a little. his fingers press into your back, not hard, just steady. grounding. enough to keep you pressed firmly against him. like he’s trying to convince himself you’re real.

the room’s still noisy with all the side conversations, but it's all background noise now with you two just in your little bubble away from the rest of the world. you feel safe and like you’re about to fall apart at the same time.

you shift a little in his lap and glance up at him.

“…you didn’t have to drag me across the room, you know,” you finally mutter, voice hoarse.

he scoffs, eyes flicking down to meet yours. “yeah, well. you weren’t comin’ on your own.”

you wrinkle your nose at him. “you could’ve asked.”

“whatever." he grumbles. "this is more efficient."

you snort. "the hell?"

he shrugs, completely unapologetic. “worked, didn’t it?”

you don’t answer. because yeah. it did.

instead, you rest your head back on his chest, and he immediately shifts to accommodate you. your legs drape over the couch, his arm hooked under your knees to keep you anchored, and his other hand settled at the base of your spine. he starts tracing slow, absentminded circles there, hand slipped under your hoodie to rub at the bare skin like nothing had ever changed. like you hadn’t just gone five whole days without touching him. like you hadn’t spent those five days trying to unravel every version of reality where he didn’t love you back.

you sit like that for a long time.

finally, he speaks up, his voice low.

"what did i do?" he asked, his voice oddly shy. "why'd ya stop.. you know..?"

your breath hitches. because you do know. but you don't know what to say or how to say it. "i thought you completely hated me" doesn't quite seem like an appropriate response.

"nothing," you settle with.

he gives you a look.

you sigh. you never could lie to katsuki. he's known you for too long and too well to fall for them.

"i just.. got insecure. overheard some conversation where you said i was, um, clingy and annoying." you murmur, your voice small. if katsuki wasn't pressed up against you and hanging on to your every word, he wouldn't have been able to catch it.

but he did.

and you swore you saw complete heartbreak in his eyes.

you let out a small gasp of surprise when he pulls you flush against him, arms tight around your body and face nuzzled deep into your neck. he holds you with such a gentle intensity you think you might cry. he holds you in a way that makes you feel loved and safe.

"'m sorry." he mumbles into your neck, voice watery. "didn't mean it. i was just.. mad that they were makin' fun of me. none of it was true. at all."

your breath hitches.

"you're.. so fuckin' special to me. i mean it. these last few days without you have been hell."

you think you might cry.

"been missin' your fuckin' smile and your damn laugh. and your stupid hugs that make me almost topple over."

you hold back a giggle.

"i love you."

the world stills.

you don’t move.

you don’t speak.

hell, you're scared to breathe.

your heart is beating so loud you’re worried he might hear it. your face is burning, your lungs feel tight, and your throat’s a warzone of words you can’t quite say.

he said it.

he said it.

and now he’s quiet. breathing you in. arms wrapped around you like you’re something precious. like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go.

you pull back just enough to look at him. your hand comes up to brush his bangs from his eyes, and your fingers linger at his temple, trailing down his cheek like you’re memorizing him.

his expression is soft in a way you rarely get to see. wide-eyed. hopeful. a little scared.

you offer him a tiny, quiet smile.

no teasing.

no trying to be brave or play it all off.

just soft. honest. the kind that only he gets to see.

you lift your hand and touch his face. not dramatic, not shaky, just steady. fingers brushing along his cheekbone, thumb ghosting over the edge of his jaw like you’re memorizing the shape of him again.

his eyes close for a second and you swear you see him leaning into it a little.

you say nothing.

you don’t need to.

because you’re here. because he’s holding you. because you’re not pulling away, and he's pulling you in.

you nuzzle your face into his neck, like it's right where you belong, and you breathe in.

he breathes in too.

slow. like the world’s stopped spinning for a second just so you can exist like this, tangled up in each other without saying anything. no talking about what's going on, no complications, just.. being.

you both don't notice how mina and kirishima are gossiping wildly about how you two are practically married and wondering how you still claim not to be dating. you don't notice the way that ochaco squeals after glancing over at your position, and you don't notice the way izuku looks fondly at you two with soft eyes. (he's been shipping the two of you since childhood)

you and katsuki are the only two people in the world who matter.

"i love you," you whisper as you feel yourself dozing off.

you think you feel his lips press gently against your forehead.

"i love you too."

masterlist

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

share my world

synopsis : your boyfriend has a weird little habit of squeezing your fingers. and, naturally, he won't tell you why.

an. i make a stupid "you cant just say perchance" joke here bc i think its very funny. it's corny, so beware!

"so, are we ever gonna talk about this ?"

if katsuki is startled by the fact that you're awake, he barely let's it show besides the way his eyes widen just slightly in the darkness of the room, you're eyes have adjusted enough thanks to the light of the moon peeking through the curtains.

"gonna talk about what ?" he asks sluggishly, eyes drifting downward towards your hands again. or more specifically your fingers.

"talk about why you keep squeezing my fingers when you think i don't notice ?" you explain. katsuki takes about ten seconds to respond. his eyes dart to you when you finish talking. when he looks away again he squints and squeezes your finger with his thumb and pointer almost by reflex.

"s'not like i'm trynna be sneaky.."

you realise he's trying to weasel his way out of your question with a vague answer, so you insist. "and it's always my ring finger too, is it like crooked or something ?" you joke. that rewards you with a huff of laughter from your boyfriend, who squeezes your ring finger tight.

"yeah, m'trynna—set your shit straight." he groans, pretending to struggle as you whine in discomfort. trying to wiggle your finger out of his grip.

when he grants you some mercy and loosens up (still not letting go) he speaks again "if it bothers you so bad why didn't ya say nothin' ?"

"doesn't bother me, perchance.. just wanna know what the big deal is." you reassure, shrugging deeper into his sheets.

he raises an eyebrow holding back a smile "ya can't just say perchance, moron." you stick your tongue out at him as you laugh "that's the joke, asswipe. now quit dodging the question !" you snark, he squeezes your nose in retaliation.

he grunts, looking around the room for anything to save him from talking. he groans when he doesn't find anything.

"i just—it's—i just—do it cuz' i wanna, that a problem ?" he stutters defensively. you roll your eyes, squeezing his nose back, chuckling when he dashes away and glares like you'd smacked him.

"of course not, suki."

"good. quit interrogating me then."

you roll your eyes with a sigh, knowing this is the most you'll get out of your cryptic boyfriend. "that's gonna make me even more curious, y'know ?"

"tough luck. guess y'r just gonna have to live with that. 'night." he settles, and the bastard actually closes his eyes, pulling you closer like his personal plushie. you push at his shoulder "dick." you mutter, he chuckles quietly.

and yeah, you guess you are gonna have to live with that, until you forget about it that is. only for you to remember again and ask him this exact question again and though you're being patient for now, katsuki knows that sooner or later you'll get restless. always so damn impatient, he thinks to himself.

well, not like he could say much, but he'll keep that thought to himself.

and he's being pretty patient right now, he thinks. squeezing your ring finger tight when he realises your breathing has slowed and you'd fallen asleep. he rubs at the spot where he hopes, he prays, you'll allow him to put a ring on soon.

you were just going to have to live with this for a little bit longer in the meantime.