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nightowlwriting · 3 years ago

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summary: steve is acting weird. avoiding you, being snippy and mean, leaving the room when you enter. all you want is your boyfriend back, but all he wants is to pretend you don't exist. when he's almost hurt on a mission, you do what you're made to do.

word count: 11k

reader specifics: no race/gender/sexuality/body type mentioned, no pronouns for reader used, powered!reader, insecure!reader

warnings: steve is mean to the reader in the beginning, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, canon-level violence, brief ptsd symptoms, slight description of blood, brief mention of racism in the '30s & '40s

brief mentions of: reader's parents being toxic, homelessness, past accidents, ableism in the past & present

note: this one hurt me lmfao. idk why this went the way it did but i'm not mad at it // also i am a queer, trans, disabled american. i have fundamental disagreements with things that marvel/the mcu as it stands for and some of the more nuanced things that you might not notice unless you're looking for it. this will take place in my writing because i cannot separate myself from the lens in which i consume/create content.

title credit: lil nas x

mobile masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his. Sure - he’s clever, righteous, courteous… You can’t forget he’s also drop-dead gorgeous because every trashy gossip magazine in a three-state radius of New York doesn’t let you forget. Neither does the sight of him waking up in your bed every morning. (Well, actually, maybe that would remind you if he was still fucking doing that.)

But lately, you’ve had to rely on the fucking tabloids to catch a glimpse of your super-hero boyfriend. The university class you had picked up on a whim at the end of the summer - Life & Times of the ‘30s and ‘40s - avoids any mention of Steve Rogers and the Howling Commandos. Not that your classmates do because, Christ on a bike, those magazines manage to catch pictures of you and Steve in moments that you don’t even remember. Plus, you’re an Avenger too. It’s bound to catch some attention when you waltz into a college classroom.

You’re sure if you were an undergrad trying to fill a gen-ed requirement and were sitting next to someone who could kill you without blinking but also dating Captain Rogers you’d be a little distracted too. You try not to blame your classmates too much, but they do make it hard to concentrate with their -really dating Captain America?- and -wonder if I could get an autograph- whispers. None of that matters because you’re learning, really studying, in between missions and missing Steve and believing that maybe the gossip reporters are right.

Maybe he’s forgotten about you.

You grit your teeth and push the thought away. It does you no good right now, while you’re training with Peter. He’s working his way up to bona fide missions and, because you’re the only one on the team who has experience with real-life teenagers outside of saving their lives, it’s up to you to get him to the level that he needs to be. Plus, the mission where he’s going to get his gills wet is just you, Tony, Steve, Nat, and Bucky. You’d much rather be the one to train him because you won’t traumatize him.

Right now, though, you’re just kicking his ass to try and get rid of some of the tension in your body. You feel a little bad about it, but when you started as his mentor you told him point-blank that you’d never go easy on him. That meant if you were having a bad day he either needed to up his game or he’d have a bad day too. It appears he’s taken that to heart as he struggles to dodge the hits you’re throwing his way. He lunges out of the way when you try to land a right hook but practically walks into the leg sweep that sends him crashing to the ground.

“Awe,” Peter groans, letting his guard down. You take the momentary lapse of focus to grab him by the collar of the hoodie he’s wearing and haul him to his feet, jerking one fist back to cold-clock him but he beats you to it. You hear the sound of your nose cracking before you feel it but then the pain rushes you all at once. You’ve had worse but coming from Peter, the move surprises you. You don’t yell out but he does when you push him away from you and call the fight off. Peter practically yelps your name, hands up by his head as he watches you bend at the waist, both hands over where your nose is absolutely gushing blood. “I am so sorry, I just reacted-!”

“It’s fine, Pete,” You shake your head and stand straight again, the blood beginning to leak through your fingers, “Just go get me a towel, okay?” Peter practically trips over his feet to get something for your nose and as you track him on his way into the locker rooms, you see Steve, Bucky, and Nat. The latter are looking your way, eyebrows raised like they’re asking you if you’re okay. Steve hasn’t even broken stride in his conversation so you wave them off with a bloody hand. Peter’s back in a flash, pressing a wet towel into your grasp and snapping you out of your self-pity party. “It was a good hit,” You compliment as you wipe your face off, “I just wasn’t expecting it. Prob’ly wouldn't have landed it if I had.”

He wrings his hands, shifting from foot to foot. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s a good thing, Peter, means you’re getting better.” You deadpan, checking to see if your nose has stopped bleeding yet, “I don’t think you actually broke it, but I’ll go down to medical to check later.” You do your best to clean up your hands with the wet towel, but it’s so soaked with your blood that it mostly just smears it around. You grimace and shake your head. “Well, I should go now before our sparring match ends up looking like I murdered you.”

“I’ll go with,” He offers, “I’m the one who broke your nose.” You let Peter walk you down to medical even though you were originally going to refuse. Perhaps petty, but it was the way that Steve didn’t even look your way as you left that made you let the teenager walk you the two floors to where you’d be able to clean yourself up. He hums in the elevator and you know that he wants to ask you something - it’s the way he holds his mouth when he’s prying for information or keeping a secret that tips you off. Finally, just before the elevator opens, you sigh and turn to him.

“What, Peter?” He grins but then it falls when he has to skitter after you down the hall. Maybe that’s why it falls - the question he asks next nearly sends you to your ass.

“Is everything okay with you and Captain Rogers?” He easily catches up to you when you stop in your tracks, ignoring that you’re still bleeding a little bit down your face and you might be dripping blood everywhere from where it’s run down your arms.

“What?” You do your best to look confused like everything is fine, but Peter is perceptive. He may fumble around and be pretty awkward, but those are really just teenager things that he’ll hopefully outgrow. You should have known that when someone caught onto how bad things are on your end, it would be Peter. (You wonder if Nat or Bucky has brought it up with Steve, considering he’s spent more time with them in the past week than he’s seen you in the past month.) “We’re fine.” Your words are stilted as you begin walking to the medical wing much faster than before.

“I just thought I’d ask, well, because I’ve sort of noticed… Something just seems off, you know? Like, you two used to spend a lot of time together, and maybe it’s the recon mission coming up, but I was just thinking that you two really barely look at each other even when you’re in the same -”

“Peter!” You say his name much louder than either of you expected and both of you jump. “Peter,” You say softer, looking at the glass door to the medical wing instead of him, “Just leave it, okay? It’s nothing you have to worry about, kid.” Peter ducks around to open the door, forcing you to look at him. “He’s just focused on his stuff and I’m focused on getting you whipped into shape for this mission. We only have two days.” Once you’re inside and surrounded by the medical crew Tony keeps on staff, he thankfully drops it. You love Peter, you do, but it’s a lot like having a little brother. You can only love them so much before you want to fucking strangle them. Eventually, as the doctor checks to make sure he hasn’t broken your nose, you have to order him away to go study or something. “I’ll join you later,” You promise him as the doctor prods at your tender flesh, “I have an essay due soon.”

That’s another thing that’s been bugging you that Peter surely picked up on. Nearly everybody knew you were taking a course at the local community college, but nobody knew what it was about. You’d wanted to keep it a secret until you told Steve, but the day you had registered he’d flown out for a two-week mission without telling you or saying goodbye. After that, you decided it didn’t really matter if anyone knew what class you were taking, and keeping it a secret sort of spiraled from there. If they wanted to know they could look it up. Maybe it was petty, but you just wanted the class to be over and done with so you could forget that you really only picked it up so you relate to your boyfriend more.

If you can even call Steve your boyfriend anymore. You’re not so sure where you stand and, honestly, you’re really close to giving up on the relationship as a whole but you can’t do that. Before you were dating, you were friends, and Steve… He never gave up on you. Not once. How could you repay him by giving up on your relationship? The one that you thought was The One? Even if it hurts, even if you’re unsure more than sure these days, how could you? Somewhere, though, you know you deserve better. You don’t deserve the sinking, dark feeling that lingers in your gut for most of your days now or the way that you second-guess every move you make - even in the field. It’s dangerous but you can’t do anything to fix it.

You’re too scared. You know that eventually, it will happen, he’ll break up with you, but you’d like to put that day off for as long as possible. To relish in the love he once had for you, how pure and powerful it was. You’re sure that you’ll never experience anything like that again.

Hell, you might never fall in love again.

Those thoughts don’t do anything to help you, though, so you try not to have them. You get clearance from the doctor and get cleaned up as much as you can without taking a full body shower. The idea to go back to your room and take one crosses your mind but you know that Steve’s probably done training, probably heading back for his own shower, and you don’t want to open that can of worms. Instead, you go to the common room and drop into the couch between Peter and Tony. They’re talking about something something science something something, but you pull your stack of books and notebooks out from the shelf underneath the coffee table and continue outlining your essay from where you left off. The assignment was focused on how the end of WW1 changed American life and then how life changed leading up to and during WW2 but that had hit a little too close to home for you, so you’re writing about the racial tension and overall racism of the times. Tony and Peter keep talking over your back and then you hear footsteps heading toward the common room.

You barely look up when they enter - Nat and Bucky - because it’s fine. It’s normal. They’re just two of Steve’s best friends, that’s all, nothing to be jumpy about. You don’t even register that emotional pain that hits when you realize that, yeah, you’re not one of his best friends anymore. You doubt you’re even considered a friend in his book.

You groan and lean back into the couch, bringing your study materials with you. Peter glances over, skimming over your page and a half of shorthand, and gags. “Jesus, can you write like a normal person?”

“Oh, sorry,” You say lazily, not looking up as you continue to scribble in your incomprehensible code, “I do forget that some of us had privacy at home.” You lift your lips just a little bit to let Peter know you’re kidding, looking up at him through your lashes as you slouch next to him. He looks red in the face. “Besides, once you have to start doing mission reports you’ll be begging me to learn my shorthand and use my stenography machine.”

“I keep telling you that I can update that ol’ thing,” Tony draws your attention. For the first time, you realize that Nat and Bucky are on the loveseat looking at you expectantly. Steve is standing in the corner over their shoulder reading a book from the bookshelf in front of him. His back is tense and he looks like he’s not reading, just listening. You force your eyes back to Tony on your right and shake your head.

“No, because then you’d know my shorthand and it makes me too happy to see you spend hours trying to decipher it.” His eyes wander to your essay again, trying to find any patterns that he can use to figure out what the hell you’re writing on anything ever. He’s opening his mouth to make a smart-ass remark that will no doubt lift some of the weight off of your shoulders when another voice speaks up.

“Wow,” Steve doesn’t even look at you even as he says your name sardonically, “Way to be a team player.” Your mind comes to a screeching halt, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s playing at. Even Bucky and Nat look surprised at the cold way he spoke to you, Tony and Peter both gasping from your side. You can’t say anything, throat tight and burning with tears as you stare at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows. What do you say to that? How do you respond? You know it wasn’t a joke because he’s not laughing, not smiling, not even looking up from that fucking book in his hands. You can’t tell if you’re more hurt or embarrassed, but either way, you don’t want to stick around for someone to get the nerve to say something.

Instead of replying, you slam your textbooks shut and bundle everything into your arms. You doubt Steve even notices that you’re making such a hasty retreat but if he does, he doesn’t say a fucking thing. You feel like you’re in high school - practically running through an empty hallway with your notebooks and textbooks pressed to your chest, trying not to cry. It’s ridiculous. You’re a trained assassin, you’re an Avenger, you are strong and powerful and yet… And yet. You’ve given so much of your heart and soul to Steve Rogers that he can knock you down eight pegs without even trying. Without even looking at you. You can’t wait to go on this fucking recon mission, where you can put all of your focus on making sure Peter is doing okay and gathering the intel. Where you can stop thinking about how easily Steve Rogers seems to be pushing you to the side.

You spend the next two days writing your essay, ignoring almost everyone, and working on your essay. On the day of the recon mission, you’re running out the door for your eight a.m lecture, printed essay in hand, and reminding Tony that he promised to pick you up on campus after class for the mission.

You’re lucky that you went, too. You hadn’t counted on the professor making everyone stand up and tell the class the subject of their essays - didn’t realize that it would be twenty-five percent of the grade on the paper. You’ll never understand college professors and the weird shit they do, but the class is informative and entertaining. He goes around the room, starting on the opposite side of you, so you’ll be last. Great.

Several students did their papers on the propaganda of the time, one student was brave and did her essay on the ethical dilemma of the super-soldier serum and eugenics, and most of the other students focused on pop culture and how it changed. When your professor looks at you it’s almost like he’s expecting you to have done nothing but fawn over Steve and Bucky, considering you know them personally. He looks surprised when you clear your throat, stand and say: “I focused on the casual and institutional racism that faced non-white Americans at the time.” You almost preen when he looks impressed and then the shame fills you. It’s just… You want Steve to be proud of you. You want him to congratulate you on going back to school, even if it’s just for one class. You want him to be happy and surprised that he was the inspiration for taking the class.

Though, lately, the class has been more for you than for him. You like learning new things, pushing the boundaries of assignments, making people uncomfortable with the truth of the times you’re studying as told to you by two people who lived it. It’s nice. Normal.

Everyone needs a little bit of normal.

But, honestly, normal is fucking boring. By the time your class is over and you’re handing in your essay it’s like ants are crawling over your skin. A combination of nerves from the upcoming mission, a head full of fog from whatever is happening with Steve, and a little bit of fear at the thought of taking Peter into the field has you bolting for the door the moment your essay is taken from you. You’d worn your tac-suit underneath a pair of baggy sweats and a loose hoodie, so you don’t even bother slowing down as you head toward the car that Tony has waiting for you. He’s in the front seat, grinning at you from underneath his aviators and Peter is driving.

You slip into the backseat without thinking or looking at who’s there, tossing your bag in the back and peeling your hoodie off. “God, Tone, we’re goin’ to die before we even get to the mission with Petey driving.” You toss your hoodie back to join your bag and finally see who’s sitting next to you.

Of course, it’s Steve. He’s looking at you - but not really. He’s looking through you, like he can’t stand that you’re both crammed in the backseat of Tony’s electric car. His gaze catches you and holds you in place. Everything around you goes cold and fuzzy, making you miss Peter’s indignant complaining that he has his license so he should be able to drive… And then Steve scoffs and looks out his window, ignoring you. It stings but you have a job to do. You make some witty retort back to Peter, but it falls flat as you struggle out of your sweats. This is what life is, you think. Relationships aren’t meant to be forever - you learned that at a young age.

Until your accident at fifteen, you had watched your parents run out of helium, their relationship expanding and cooling in arguments, in days spent not talking, in trips to your grandparents without the other, in passive-aggressive computer searches for divorce attorneys left open for anyone to see. Then, after you were trapped between those machines - after you spent hour after agonizing hour with electricity pressing between your atoms, being torn apart and rebuilt as a young god - after that day you watched them expand against each other before the neutron core of their relationship collapsed on itself and the resulting supernova sent you to the streets. But then Fury found you. Then Tony, then Nat, then Steve.

Your parents exploded out from each other and the shockwaves ruined your life. At least now, your relationship with Steve is ending silently. There’s no explosion, no collapse, no rapid expansion to take over your cosmos. Your relationship with Steve is simply approaching the event horizon, where it will hang in the air until one of you takes the final step and you both become frozen, two collapsing objects on opposite sides of the universe. Maybe that’s what you already are. You feel so far away from him in the back of Tony’s car - like he’s eons and light-years away from you - and you feel so cold. Frozen, down to the bone. It makes you stiff in your replies to Tony and Peter, slow on the uptake when the car pulls up to the quinjet, nearing stasis and unable to respond when Nat asks if you’re okay.

Finally, you turn to look at her, nodding. “Fine,” You clear your throat, “Been a rough day.” You do your best to smile at her, but your face feels heavy. Your chest feels cold and tight, making you worry about your performance on the upcoming mission. When Peter shakes his head next to you, discreetly telling Nat not to press, you’re focused on Steve and the electricity humming in the most base part of your body.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. You turn away and force yourself to smile, throwing a weak and numb arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Are you ready for this, Pete?” You jostle him back and forth, leading him toward the sitting area behind the cockpit. “Gonna get your ass kicked?”

“Please,” He shoves you off, nervously laughing, “Not with the skills you’ve taught me.” He mimics throwing webs, making hissing noises under his breath, and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head.

“You’re payin’ my medical bills when I have to save your ass, Spidey.” You shake your head and strap in next to the wall, Peter taking the seat to your right. Tony, from the aisle across from you, points a thick finger your way.

“You don’t pay medical bills anymore,” He waggles his finger, “So you’ll just have to make him do your homework for a week.”

“Mister Stark!”

“He’ll have to earn shorthand to do your essays,” Nat chimes in from between Bucky and Steve, who are both doing their best to not look at you - or anyone really. “You willing to share that with him?”

You lean back in your seat and jab at Peter with your elbow. “Hell no, so I guess Spider-Boy better do his best.” The arachnid in question grumbles, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat.

“No pressure, right?” He complains, “Not like I’m already nervous or anything.”

“You’ll do fine, kid,” Bucky pipes up, drawing your eyes back to Steve, “It’s goin’ to be a cakewalk.”

“Don’t jinx it, Barnes,” You warn half-heartedly, tucking in on yourself, “We need this to be easy.” From the look on his face - everyone’s face, really - you know that they heard you loud and clear when you were really saying I need this to be easy.

After an uneasy laugh from Bucky, a claustrophobic silence settles over you all as the jet begins to take off. You’re in for an hour ride and plan to spend it going over battle plans with Peter when harsh whispering catches your ear. It’s Bucky and Steve nearly crushing Nat between them until she gets up and sits across from Peter, rolling her eyes. Still, you try your best to run him through the actions you both had planned - the names, the setups you needed to execute them, everything. If something happens to Peter, you’ll never forgive yourself.

And then, cutting through your soft promptings to Peter and his equally soft replies, Bucky’s voice. “Leave it, Steve. Until after this mission.” Even Tony looks up from his tablet, curiosity piqued. Their faces are both red, set hard and angry at each other and your stomach drops. What the hell is going on that Steve ‘Till The End Of The Line Rogers is fighting with Bucky You And Me, Pal Barnes? You must shift, or lean too far into Steve’s eyesight, because for the first time in what feels like years he is looking directly at you - and seeing you, too. It makes your pulse jump and, almost instinctively, you want to reach out and ground yourself on the rubber of the seat underneath you.

You don’t get the chance, though, because Steve speaks. “No, why should I? This is clearly affecting the team.” He’s still looking - glaring - at you like you’ve done something wrong. “What’s the point of waiting? I’ve been waiting to talk about this.”

“Bo, I don’t think this is the time,” Bucky looks over his shoulder at you, then, and you know what’s coming. You know that it’s time, that Steve is about to break up with you in front of your teammates. Your friends. Your family. You steel yourself for the anguish you’re about to feel and then jerk your chin out, hardening your resolve.

“Buck, it’s fine. If Steve wants to address something, he can.”

Natasha says your name, a low warning over the hum of the quinjet. “I think he should wait.”

“Well, I’m not goin’ to wait!” Steve unbuckles himself and stands, “I have tried waiting, and look at where that has gotten me.” He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out a breath. You unbuckle and stand, too, unsure of where this is going. “You need to,” He holds one hand out, pointing at you while his voice shakes. You notice his hand is shaking, too, but fractionally. If you didn’t know Steve as well as you do you may have never noticed it. “You need to get it together.”

“I need to get it together?” You question, eyebrows nearly hitting the ceiling with how fast they shoot up. You’re not totally sure you’ve heard him right because what do you have to get together? The broken shards of your relationship? The information and research for your final paper? The awful way you’ve let yourself be treated for what seems like forever?

“You heard me,” Steve says, at the same time Bucky leans his head back and groans deep in his chest. “What? Someone had to say it.”

“We should wait for this,” Nat speaks up again, but lifelessly. She knows now that you and Steve are both on the warpath, neither of you are going to stop. (That’s also why the two of you work together as a couple so well. Very rarely are you both so worked up about something that you can’t back down, so the other is always there to meet you halfway and get you back to earth.)

“No, no, no,” You say, near hysterically, “No, he wants to do this now? Before a mission? Instead of the fuckin’ weeks we had to hash whatever crawled up his ass and died out? Be my guest. He’s already dragged everyone into this by treating me like a pariah.” You’re not sneering, but your teeth are gritted so tightly together you can hear them scraping and feel a tension headache beginning to bloom in your temples. Bucky looks… Almost incredulous at your statement. Like putting the blame on Steve is a dick move or something.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy here?” Steve is curling his lip, glaring at you. There’s something behind his eyes, but he’s buried it so deep that you can’t reach it and figure out what it is. “I’m the bad guy, right. Right, right, right.” He scoffs, shakes his head, and then he’s running his fingers through his hair like he really can’t believe what you’re saying to him.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think?” You throw your hands out to the side and let them slap back down on your thighs. “You ignore me, you make me feel like shit, you talk down to me like I’m some insignificant foot soldier. How else am I supposed to take that, Steve?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ask me what’s wrong? Maybe ask me why I’m acting like this, instead of ignoring all of your problems like a child?” He mirrors your moments, but the sound his hands make when they hit the outside of his suit is more powerful than yours. Fueled by anger, you think. Anger and whatever the hell was in the serum Erskine pumped into Steve.

“Ask you?” You repeat, near-hysterical, “Ask you? Oh yeah, let me get right on that. Hey, Mister Rogers? Mister Captain America? Mister Ignores-His-Partner-For-God-Knows-Why? Hey, just why are you doin’ that?” You’re surprised that you’ve said something so snotty, but you don’t back down. (Steve looks surprised, too, and Bucky has stood up next to his friend like he’s about to start berating you as well. At least he looks more cautious about it, like he’s not totally sure that this fight should be happening.)

The more surprising part of your fight is how fast it’s shut down. Tony and Nat stand at the same time and exchange a glance like they’ve surprised each other. “That’s enough,” Tony starts.

Nat cuts him off. “I don’t care if you fight this one out instead of talking, but if you do it before this recon mission you two are going to blow it. Do you understand me?” She looks dangerous, the sharp edge of a knife spiraling through the air. You force yourself to look away from her, from Tony, from Bucky, from Steve. She’s right. You know she’s right - especially on this mission. Peter is there, going to be in real danger even though there’s not supposed to be one Hydra agent in a four-mile radius. You have to clear your mind and focus on protecting him.

Steve seems to think the same thing because he stands down. When you watch him collapse in on himself, Bucky’s arms around his shoulders, into the little quinjet seats your everything aches. Heart, lungs, eyes - everything. Even though you don’t know what’s going on, what could have possibly happened to make your relationship sink this quickly and out of the blue, you still love him. He’s still The One for you. You still want to be the one to comfort him and make him feel whole when he’s struggling.

But you can’t. You can’t and it kills you.

The heat of battle makes a lot of things fade into the background. Important things like why the fuck are there Hydra agents here? and Steve is going to break up with you when you get back on the jet and Tony swore on the fucking limited edition AC/DC vintage tour poster he has in his office that this would be an easy in/easy out information mission. None of that matters, though, because you’re in deep shit. There are seventeen of them, all primed to the teeth with weapons made to take your team down permanently.

You’re practically glued to Peter, calling out commands and plans for him to initiate. It’s when all of your plans fall through that you take a hit from a heavy fist on purpose, hitting the ground hard. “Plan F, Spidey, Plan F!” You cover the instruction with a groan and then you’re back on your feet, working your way toward him.

“Plan F?” Tony says, somewhere above you in his suit. Your comms crackle ominously as another heat-seeking grenade is launched, interfering with the radio waves your tech relies on. You don’t worry about it, because you know Tony is on it. He’s your eyes in the sky.

Peter is the one who answers his question, watching your close hand-to-hand tilt out of your favor briefly. “Plan Fuck It, Mister Stark.” He grunts as he webs up a Hydra agent, jerking him away from where he was about to slip a knife up and under Natasha’s kevlar. You finally drop the guy in front of you, ignoring Steve’s disappointed Language! and toss one of your knives toward Nat for her to use. Tony is still laughing in your ear, wheezing as he drops down and snags the rifle from one of the snipers and then takes back off.

What your little protégé failed to mention about Plan F is that it’s not just chaos, but controlled chaos. You let loose, letting a soft current cover every inch of your skin as Peter switches to his conductive webbing and takes special care to not web any of his allies. Except for you - if you’re in the way and he catches you in a web it doesn’t matter because you’re you, alive with electricity that drops the men that get caught in the web, too. You rip out of the webs and turn the current off when one of your teammates gets too close.

More Hydra agents are pouring out of the woods, topping out their numbers around twenty-five. That’s twenty-five too many in your opinion, especially when you can see Peter getting tired, his anxiety spiking, his moves having more and more hesitation behind them. You need to get this over with quickly, but you don’t have the options to do that. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are really the heavy-hitters - you, Pete, and Tony are the only ones without serums despite all of your individual abilities. Desperately you reach out for a web that’s still connected to Peter’s arms, pulling him out of the way of a baton that’s about to come down on the back of his neck.

The baton the agent is wielding glints in the coming dusk, freezing you as Peter scrambles past you with a quick apology. You’ve seen that before - seen it, felt it, know it like the back of your hand. There’s no way that you could ever forget that weapon. The man stumbles when his hit doesn’t connect but then rights himself and searches for a new target.

A long, black baton that splits into two prongs at the end is heavy in his hand. Electricity crackles between the bulbs at the end, flashing in the setting sun and your memories. The man only has one, but if it was hooked up to a machine, spinning. If there were four, five, six. If you were pinned between them, screaming in the pain as they rewrote your DNA… You’ve only felt it once, but you’ll never forget it.

And now, you’ll taste it again. On purpose this time. The man holding the stun baton is going for Steve’s back - his strong back, the one that protects people, the one that holds the weight of the world, the one that lays in your bed, the one you see whipping out of rooms as you’re entering just so that he doesn’t have to look at you - and you can’t let that happen. It only takes ten amps to kill a regular human, but you know those things are cranked up to twenty minimum. You don’t want to see how many amps of current it will take to stop Steve’s heart. You’re between the baton and Steve before you can think about what you’re doing or what comes next, the hard bulbs settling unyielding into your side and cranking out maximum power for maximum damage as soon as the current is connected and able to flow from one bulb to the other.

The pain hits you and your throat catches on it. It burns through your body, setting everything on fire - your chest hurts as your heart protests the electrons and then your powers kick in, sweeping them into your very atoms and cells. You’re a live wire now, ears humming and body thrumming with power you’ve only dreamed of. It hurts, and it burns, and you feel tears rising in your eyes because you’re back there - back begging for death or for life or for God and god at the same time - but then it’s over. The man sees that you’re not seizing up, not dropping dead in front of him, and he takes three steps back.

It’s not far enough.

You’ve only felt like this once before - right after you were unhooked from the machine that changed your life and brought you to your new family. You remember how you looked when you were put in front of a mirror with all of the pent up electricity circling your body - how your eyes were filled to the brim and dripping with bright and blue electricity, the way it was jumping across your body, how you didn’t need to breathe because your body was fully saturated with pure, unadulterated power. You wonder if you look like that now and assume you do because you can see the bright blue reflecting in the terrified eyes of the Hydra agent.

Your suit, unlike everyone else’s, is not grounded. It’s metal, metal, metal. You’re made to conduct, born for it, and the earth beneath you comes alive with bright white as you release all of the energy, the power, surges down and out. You’re practiced. You can reach out and feel the synapses and neurons of every human being in the clearing, know exactly where your teammates are standing, and know exactly how to target everything but them and the pitiful amount of electricity their brains carry. You grin, something truly feral and unhinged, and you can see the fear in the Hydra agent. Then, you let go.

You know that everyone is going to be pissed. (Maybe not everyone.) You’re not built for this, not made to take down nearly twenty fucking people at once. As you let go, you feel what they feel. The seizing muscles, the stopping of their hearts, the inside of their bodies crisping against their bones. At that moment, that delicious moment, you see the universe.

You become God. You become everything - your mother and your father and God and god and anyone else who’s watching your life from the ether. You become the judge, jury, and executioner of souls that you don’t know from Adam. You become lightning, and thunder, and exposed nerves of the cosmos at the same time. The world bends to your will and you relish in it, taking that power in your fist and wielding it to protect the man you’ll love for the rest of your life and the family that you’ve made. You will stop at nothing to end this, even if it means turning yourself inside out to do it.

You damn near do turn yourself inside out too, but that doesn’t matter, does it? The blood spilling from your ears, nose, and eyes feels like heaven. It’s hot, and thick, and it’s proof of the power that your body holds. You’re a temple and a sanctuary, a war-room and a bunker, a field of flowers and a sun-dry desert. It does not matter if Steve doesn’t love you at that moment, because you are love and hate wrapped into one package. You are everything and nothing, spread thin at the beginning and the end of time.

And then none of that is true. You are just… You. Standing in a clearing, surrounded by twenty-something dead Hydra agents and your terrified, terrified family. It hurts to breathe and you can taste blood in your mouth, but that’s an afterthought. Steve is still standing behind you, but he is alive. That is what matters.

This is what love is, you think.

Pain and pleasure.

Even if he leaves you, you will always love him.

Pain and pleasure.

You’re weak at the knees when he finally turns to see you - and you’re a sight. Struggling to stand, fingertips blackened with soot but not burnt, blood pouring from your nose, ears, eyes… You look like death, but you feel like life. Someone says something behind you - Peter, maybe? Or maybe Tony, in your comms? - but you don’t hear it. Everything tunnels out, your weak knees finally collapsing as you keel backward.

Steve bears down upon you almost immediately. You’re halfway to unconsciousness when he wraps you up in his arms, keeping you from falling in with the pile of bodies around you. He’s saying your name, harsh and soft and then in a voice like he’s ordering you to wake up. You loll about as he drops you down onto a patch of clear grass, hands searching your body for wounds. When he skims over your side, where the baton has burnt through your suit and your flesh, you surge back toward being able to have cohesive thoughts. The pain brings you back, hands wrapping around Steve’s arm and calling out his name. “Steve! Fuck, that hurts!”

“Honey,” He breathes, “Fuck, we have to get you back to the jet.” His jaw ticks, hair dirty and loose from its normal style. “Why’d you do that?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer from you, ordering Peter to web something up to carry you over your protests.

“I’m fine,” You argue, only slurring slightly, “I feel fine.” But you’re going to let Nat and Bucky load you up on the webbed stretcher anyway because it’s the first time Steve has cared for you in a long time. You want to relish in this moment, the way that he didn't say your name but called you honey.

Well, and because Natasha slides a thumb across her neck over Steve’s shoulder in a silent threat.

You groan when Bucky accidentally grabs your calf where there is an absolutely awful stab wound, but you wave off his apology. “How could you have known?” To be honest, you hadn’t even known it was there until his Vibranium hand was slipping against it and sending shockwaves of pain through you. Peter is next to you the whole time that you’re being carried back to the jet - Tony staying back to begin scanning the bodies of the Hydra agents for the information you need and any other information they may be carrying. The poor kid is nearly at a breakdown, so you reach out to him and shake his arm when his fingers twine with yours. “Chill out, kid, I don’t know how you got it into your head that this is your fault, but it sure isn’t.” He sniffles, but hands back with Steve as Bucky and Nat get you situated in the small medical room of the jet. They transfer you and then make to leave, only Bucky hesitating near the door.

“Stevie’s goin’ to be here soon and… I don’t know what made you do what you did but you have’t explain it to him. He’s bendin’ over backwards to figure it out, and we don’t have’a clue. Came out’a nowhere.” He looks at you for another moment before shaking his head and stepping out of the room. Your head is spinning, partially from what Bucky just said and partially from the pain and stimulus of electricity. You wait there, then, because this is it. This is the event horizon. You wait there, eyes closed, until you hear footsteps approach the med room, and then the door slowly opens. Steve says your name, holding all the finality and weight of an atomic bomb. You don’t open your eyes until he swings a chair next to the stretcher and lays a hand on your calf.

“You don’t have to do this,” You finally say, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. “I know that you don’t want to.” Steve only scoffs and begins to wash the stab wound using a packet of soap and a water bottle. You say his name twice before he looks at you, something between hate and hurt curdling into a glaze over his eyes that stops you in your tracks.

“Just let me do this. It is the least that you can do.” His words are painful and stilted, like it’s taking force to push them past his teeth. You lay back down and close your eyes, content to just feel the pain of Steve beginning to stitch you up and then dress the wound before you feel the pain of Steve leaving you like you knew he always would. (Falling in love with Steve Rogers went against every instinct you had. You knew that he was going to hurt you from the first moment your lips touched his.)

When he’s done he sits back and puts his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He heaves a heavy sigh and then shakes it off, “I’ll dress your burn, and then we’ll talk.” And normally, yes, you would agree but this is too important. You want to get it over with so you can lick your wounds metaphorically and dress them literally - and then you want to go home, you want to pack your bags, and you want to disappear and remake your life somewhere else.

Some far-off place where everyone you know won’t take one look at your face and know that you’re still painfully, deeply in love with Steve Rogers, end of your semester be damned. Family you’ve made be damned. You can’t sit around and be in love with him like a neon sign on a dark highway while it’s painfully clear that he hasn’t had a sign on his highway in a long time.

So instead of agreeing, you swing your legs over the stretcher and swallow your flinch when the burn pulls tight. Steve opens his mouth to argue but you give him a tight-lipped shake of your head and his jaw snaps shut. “No,” You say, voice not giving in to the emotion swirling in your chest. “I have let this go on long enough.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Steve fucking scoffs again and looks away from you. “One day was long enough.” He says, cutting straight to your core. Okay, ouch. You take a deep breath and shake your head to try and bite back the tears that are inevitably rising in your eyes. If one day was long enough for him to realize he doesn’t want to be with you, why did he let it go on for nearly a full year? Why did he spend so long leading you on, pulling you by a thread before garroting your heart with it? What was the point?

“If you want to leave me, just say that,” You reply harshly, standing and wobbling away from him. He just watches you go, watches the way you struggle past the lead weights your muscles have become, the way you’re starting to feel the stab wound on your leg, the way the skin on your burn is beginning to blister and only just now losing its heat. He just watches you, where the Steve that loved you once upon a time might have helped. You turn your back on him, hands on your hips so that you can hide the way that you’re crying and your hands are shaking.

“If I want to leave you? If?” He says. You hear the scrape of his chair as he stands, “I think after what you’ve done, it’s not an if, sweetheart.” The way he says it tastes like iron. Steve never calls you sweetheart like he never calls you by your name. It’s always honey, lover, dovie. You don’t turn to face him because you’re struggling to keep yourself above water. “I spent so long thinkin’, wonderin’, askin’ myself - God damnit, will you look at me?” You turn slowly, not because you’ve never heard Steve speak like that but because his voice is desperate and raw. When you turn, you’re not sure what to expect. Maybe him, standing in front of you, broad-shouldered and disappointed like in those PSA’s he had to film once. Maybe he’d be angry, hands clenched at his sides and eyes narrowed like he gets in meetings when he doesn’t agree with something but he’s out-voted. But you never expect to see him crying, lip wobbling, folded in on himself like a young boy instead of the strong, invincible man you’ve come to love.

He looks so different.

It hits you, then, that you’re not looking at Steve Rogers. Not really. He's not Steve Rogers, not Captain America, not even Captain Rogers. You see him as he was - before America spat it’s untruths all over him and injected him with a serum that changed who he was, is, will be. He’s not the able-bodied man that you know, not strong and unreachable, not the heartthrob that overshadows the team during press events. He’s not America’s Darling, not really. Not where it counts.

You’re looking at Stevie Rogers. Stevie Rogers who, for all intents and purposes, was supposed to die before he made it out of toddlerhood or soon thereafter. Stevie Rogers who the doctors said wasn’t supposed to survive. Stevie Rogers who grew up sickly, rattling painful breaths and never playing ball with the neighborhood boys. Who couldn’t walk until middle school when he got his braces off. Who never had a partner because Bucky, strong and handsome and tall Bucky, was always deemed the better option. Who believed in his country so much that he tried to sneak into the second world war, subjected himself to a painful medical procedure so that he could change his very DNA to be what the world wanted him to be.

Captain Steve Rogers. Captain America. Strong, blond, patriotic, resilient.

You’re sure that if men don’t want to go to therapy now, in the modern age, they certainly didn’t want to go in the ‘40s. So where did that leave Steve, your Steve, standing in front of you and looking small, and broken, and sad, and alone? Did they expect him to take his new, taller, working body and run with it? Did they not think about how he would lose a part of himself in the process? How did they expect him to go from disabled to abled without some disconnect?

You think about the You That You Were Before and the You That You Are Now, and how you lost a part of yourself when the accident gave you your powers and how you’d lose yourself if someone figured out a way to take them away. You Before formed your identity around being normal - living in a shitty home with shitty parents, sure, but normal - and You Now form your identity around your powers, your team, your job, your love. If you lost those things, what did you have left? Who would you be?

When Steve lost his identity and became everything that America wanted everyone to think that America was, what did he have left? Sure, he could tell himself that he represents America - strong and patriotic and just - but it must have conflicted with everything he knew about himself before that. You know that disabled people now know that American society is unjust, unfit for them with abled people not willing to make room to allow them to thrive. You can only imagine what it was really like for Steve in the ‘20s and ‘30s and ‘40s. What he had to do just to survive. (Medical experimentation, you remind yourself. Did they know it wouldn’t kill him? Did they know his body wouldn’t rip itself apart with the new sinewy muscle they were packing on? Did they care? Or was he just a body they saw as broken? A project to fix? To turn him into something more like them and call it patriotism?)

You shake your head at him, still filled with despair, and try to figure out what he’s talking about. “Stevie,” You start, pet name easily replacing what you had been calling him because it’s not fair to shoe-horn him into a body that doesn’t feel like his own. You wonder if he still expects the bone-grinding pain that he used to tell you would happen when it rains. He raises a hand, a strong and family hand, shaking his head.

“I just need to know why I wasn’t enough for you,” Steve looks sad, slouching in on himself like he’s expecting to get his ass handed to him in another alleyway and hope Bucky is there to save him. “I need to know why you wouldn’t just break up with me if you wanted to see other people so badly.” You suck in a shocked breath because, okay, that’s not what you were expecting. Between that and the paradigm shift you’ve had on how Steve must view his identity, body, and self, you’re stunned. Steve continues like he doesn’t even register that you look shocked and pale and now you’re crying because he thinks you’re cheating on him? “And I get it. I get it. You have no idea how much I understand. If I were you, I wouldn’t want me either, okay?”

You cut him off there because what the actual God damn fuck is he talking about? “No, Stevie, I’m not cheating on you.” You shake your head again and this, your statement, lights a fire in him. He still looks like Stevie rather than Steve, but there’s anger there. You imagine that’s what it might have looked like moments before he got himself in trouble back before he was serumed. “I’m not.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenges, jaw ticking and chin jerking up, “Oh, yeah? You can’t lie to me. I know, okay? The act is up, it’s over, I know, okay? You can stop pretending.”

“Steve, I do not fucking know what you’re talking about but I”m not cheating on you!” You raise your voice, not really angry but more out of necessity. You need to get it out of his head that he is anything less than everything you want - that you could possibly love anyone more than you love him.

“I wanted to clarify something for you,” Steve says like he’s reading an old script from when he was just a beefy, red/white/blue stage prop for the American military, “I am excited to meet with you, but there are some rules. Do not talk about Captain Steve Rogers. I don’t want to hear about him,” As he continues to recite something that has clearly hurt him, you go lax. You know exactly what’s happened - your fists unclench, your jaw drops a little bit, and it feels like someone has gutted you, “I think it is wise to keep work and pleasure separate, and it’s a rule I will enforce heavily. I look forward to seeing you again.” He’s sneering at the end, tears falling down his ruddy cheeks.

“Steve,” You try again, but he cuts you off.

“Am I just work for you?” His voice is shaking more than you thought possible, and so are his hands. You’ve never seen Steve so off-kilter, so thrown, and it breaks your heart that yes, technically, you’re the cause of this. Before this, before this horrible misunderstanding, your relationship with Steve was the paragon of trust so neither of you cared if the other read emails or texts. You remember the email - the email from your fucking college professor - because it had made you so angry that he’d referred to your relationship with Steve as something as simple and base as just pleasure - like you could even put words to the galaxy of a relationship you had with Steve - that you’d gone to the gym to work off some of that irritation. You hadn’t wanted to take it out on anyone accidentally. When you came back from the gym, Steve was gone on that two-week mission that he’d left on without saying goodbye.

Oh, God. You feel sick to your stomach as the paradigm of the way that Steve’s been treating you shifts violently to the left. You have to physically hold yourself up and try to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve looks… Brokenly smug. Like he knows he’s right, but he’d rather gnaw his own legs off than be right.

“No,” You croak, “No, Steve, you’ve got it all wrong.” You want to reach for him, but it feels like the room is closing in on you. You’re second-guessing everything now - especially what you’ve just said. How many people said the exact same thing to him pre-serum because they said something meant for Bucky to him? How many times did he hear that when he was getting a new diagnosis, hoping for the best? How many times had his own mother said it to him when he told her something someone had said, fresh-faced and not yet used to the way that abled people sometimes treated disabled people? You think you might be sick. “That email was from my professor, Steve. I’m not cheating on you, I’d never.” He laughs darkly and sits back down in his chair, head in his hands again. You try to gather the strength to move toward him when you see his shoulders shaking, a telltale sign that he’s crying.

“A professor,” He says with a watery laugh, “Right.”

Finally, you realize that he needs you, needs to know you love him, that you’d do anything for him. You can iron out the kinks later - figure out why he didn’t want to come to talk to you past the original hurt, why he treated you so coldly, why he didn’t trust that you wouldn’t do this to him - but now, you need to show him that you’re here. That you choose him. That you’ll always choose him.

You make your way to him and set a shaking hand on his shoulder. For a brief second you think he’s going to shake you off but then Steve’s hand shoots up and latches onto where your hand is resting, dipping his head to press against your arm. “Stevie, please,” You say, unsure of what you’re asking him to do, “I picked up a class, just one, and it’s… I picked it up for you, it’s about the ‘30s and ‘40s and…” He looks up at you and he looks so broken - face ruddy and wet with tears, lip wobbling, chest heaving as he tries to not sob. His brows are knit and he looks confused, “I just wanted to be able to understand you better. You had to leave so much of yourself at the door when you joined the Avengers, had to leave so much of yourself in the ice… In Erskine’s lab… Stevie, I just wanted you to be able to be you when you’re with me. I wanted to know the you that you were before you became Captain America.” Your voice is shaking, knees knocking together, and honestly? You feel like you might blackout.

“What?” He rasps, “What?”

“He sent that email because too many kids signed up for his class thinking that they’d be able to look at pictures of you and Buck for a semester. Emailed me directly because he knows we’re…” You choke on your words, shaking your head because you’re not even sure there’s a we anymore, “Because he knows I’m on the team. Didn’t want me walking in and making his class about just a few years in the ‘30s and ‘40s rather than the culture of the time.” You don’t know how else to explain it to him, but Steve isn’t saying anything - practically isn’t moving or breathing- so you continue to try and explain what’s really happening as best as you can, “And - and that email made me so angry because he singled me out, didn’t email anyone else about it, and I left to try and work some of that out; I didn’t want to take it out on you, or let it spoil - let it spoil… But when I came back from the gym, you were gone. You were gone for two weeks and I didn’t know why.” You’re crying harder now and pretty sure that within the next sixty seconds you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down.

Steve shakes his head, still looking like he doesn’t understand. “What?” He says for a third time, “A class? A college class?”

“I just wanted to feel closer to you,” You confess, “Just wanted to understand a fraction of your life without making you do the heavy liftin’ and teachin’ me. Shouldn’t have’t do that,” You’re sobbing, barely biting out your words as you realize that something you’ve done to strengthen your relationship with Steve has destroyed it, “Shouldn’t have to explain a whole different time just to feel loved, Stevie. Should be able to be with someone who understands without you havin’ to explain.” You’re not sure you can say Peggy’s name out loud, and you hope he understands what you’re saying without making you actually say it, “Should’a been able to have love with someone who knew, and I know I’m nothin’ compared to what you should’a had, but I want to be. I want to be in the same ballpark instead’a watchin’ from the stands.” You wipe your face with your free hand and look away from Steve when he stands in front of you. You don’t want to see the look on his face - what he’s thinking about what you’ve said.

He says your name and you glance at him, but his expression stops him in your tracks. Where Steve looked broken and hurt and fuming with anger to hide the anguish, now he looks stricken. You shake your head, “No, no. I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty-”

“You think that I care about whether or not you can understand the ‘40s?” He cuts you off, hands moving to curl around your biceps, “You think that I care whether or not you can relate to a time in history when you weren’t even thought of?”

“Of course I love you. I love you more than anything in this world, but you shouldn’t have to not care, Steve,” You argue, shaking your head, “That’s what I’m trying to say. You should be with someone who understands without explanation. I just wanted to give that to you - didn’t know that this would happen.”

“I should be with someone who loves me,” He argues back, “If you love me, that’s all that matters. My past be damned.”

“But your past is you!” You try to pull away from Steve, but he anchors you there. You’re dizzy from being so close to him after this long, but also because of how many different twists this situation has taken. You can barely keep up with how bad your communication with Steve has become - barely keep up with how you need to fix it, or how to fix it. “Your past is you,” You repeat when you realize that Steve isn’t going to let you go. “And you shouldn’t have to give that up so that someone will love you.”

“But you love me,” He says desperately, ducking his head so that he’s nearly nose to nose with you, “You love me, right?”

“More than anything,” You say, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of being so close to Steve, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I don’t care about what anyone else thinks, or anyone else. I’ll even stop goin’ to class if you want me to - Steve, I just can’t do this anymore. Can’t do this thing where you don’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ you.” You’re choking up, barely whispering, but you know he hears you. YOu can feel his warm breath on your face, “Nearly fuckin’ killed me.”

“I thought it was goin’ to be easier,” He breathes, nose bumping yours, “When you eventually decided to leave me for him. Thought I was savin’ myself some trouble.” You can practically taste his tears as they fall again, “Buck and Nat tried to tell me that you weren’t - that you wouldn’t - but I just couldn’t believe them.”

When you open your eyes, his are closed. This close to him you can see the soft freckles that are blooming over his eyelids, his soft eyelashes kissing his cheekbones. You can feel him breathing, feel him nearly pressed against you in a way that feels hauntingly nostalgic and terrifyingly fleeting; like you’ll be able to feel his warmth for years to come, but he’s about to disappear. “That’s okay,” You finally whisper, “It’s okay that you didn’t believe them. That you thought what you thought. It’s okay.” He shakes his head against yours, opening his mouth to protest, but you refuse to let him feel guilty about feeling this way - you have plenty of time to sit him down and talk to him candidly about the way he acted because of these feelings, anyway. “If I would have been in your place I’m not sure I would have believed them.”

“I treated you so badly…” He shifts and wraps his arms around you. It’s almost immediate - you relax into his arms and wind yours around his waist, keeping him pulled against you as he presses his face into your neck and you press your cheek against his chest. “So awfully.”

“We’ll talk about that, okay? But later. Right now you just need to know that I love you, Steve. I love you more than I can tell you - more than I can express.” You want to kiss him, but you can’t. Can’t kiss him, you need to wait for him to kiss you, for him to close that gap and show you that he still loves you like you love him. “We’ll have to have a talk, a long and hard conversation about this, Stevie, but for now… For now, I’m just content to be with you, okay? MIssed you so much.”

He sighs, nose pressing against yours again. “Missed you too, dovie. Missed you more than I can even say,” His voice breaks as his lips brush yours. Your relationship is not without its flaws and problems - Steve’s actions when he thought you were cheating on him are proof of that and, well, the fact that you didn’t realize what was happening, why it was happening, or a large part of your boyfriend’s psychological makeup having an impact on your relationship while it went unknown by you… There is a lot of work for the two of you to do, a lot of work to do, a lot of communication to be done… But you’d do it all for Steve, over and over again.

When he presses forward and presses his lips gently to yours, you know that he’ll do it all for you, over and over again, too.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine

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thechangeling · 3 years ago

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Ok first of all this is based on my own personal feelings and preferences. Not every autistic person is going to agree with this list. If you are autistic and you have things you wanna add on then feel free just don't try and start fights with me I will block you.

Things to avoid:

-No more super smart genius type autistics. We already have enough. No more.

- Hot take maybe, but no more white boys. We already have enough.

- Don't make them a horrible asshole with no feelings or no respect for other people's feelings.

- Don't make them overly self absorbed or extremely selfish or narcissistic.

- That being said, don't make them a perfect saint either who is always kind to everyone. We can be occassionally cruel or selfish. We do make mistakes and hurt people. The trick is making sure that it's a balence.

- If this sounds complicated and contradictory... well yeah. The human condition is complicated and we are people. (Shocking I know/s)

- Don't characterize them like a child if they're an adult or a teenager. Don't infantalize them.

- If you make them have low empathy, don't equate low empathy to no feelings and no compassion.

- No more science or math special interests. Too many!!! Or trains!!

- Don't have their personal character development or big moments happen in someone else's pov. Or if they do, you HAVE to write about how they feel about it at some point.

- Don't make them have a perfect memory I'm sick of that shit.

- Don't make them absolutely perfect at their special interest or know absolutely everything about it. We make mistakes sometimes.

- Don't describe them as special or gifted or blessed.

- If other characters say ableist shit about them, make sure the narrative clearly shows that it's wrong.

- Do not make the autistic character forgive someone for being ableist and immediately become friends with them.

- Do not use person first language, functioning labels, or the term aspergers.

- Do not give them a bad fashion sense. My flawlessly dressed autistic self is sick of this.

- Don't have them not understand any figures of speech or metaphors. This is overdone. Some autistic people are fine with most figures of speech once we know what it means and will even use them.

- DO NOT, I REPEAT DO NOT CONSULT AUTISM SPEAKS!

- Do not take advice from parents with autistic children.

- Don't have them using super fancy language. Sure some autistic people talk like that but not many in my experience.

Things to do:

- This one is crucial. In all my 21 years on this earth I have NEVER encountered a canon autistic character that was allowed to hold a grudge for a significant amount of time. LET US HOLD GRUDGES 2021!!!!

- Let us be angry! Especially if you are writing a female character!! And do not demonize her for her anger.

- Let us do adult things if you are writing an adult character. Or teenage things if you are writing a teenage character. This involves swearing, drinking, dressing proactively, driving or engaging in sexual relationships and having sexual feelings. Not every adult needs to do these things to be an adult of course, but we are usually gate kept from doing these things because we are infantalized.

- Ace and Aro autistics absolutely do exist! However autistic people are usually stereotyped as not having "those kinds of feelings" so if you really want to make them aro or ace or both, really examine why.

- If you do make them ace please don't make them a "sweet innocent baby who doesn't even know what sex is"

-Just please don't fall into bad stereotypes for ace and aro characters.

- Give them diverse special interests like random movies or tv shows. We tend to like scifi and fantasy a lot. But that's not a given.

- Make them artsy or give them an interest in music. Maybe make them a singer or have them play in a band?

- Do make them a fan of rock or alternative or indie music!!! I never see that! Or even heavy metal!

- Preferably make them queer/LGBTQ we tend to not be straight especially if you're afab.

- Most of us are nonbinary, I would suggest making your autistic character nonbinary but you don't have to.

- Have them be more sensory seeking then sensory avoidant

- Have them be a motion stimmer or an auditory stimmer (have them stim by blasting music or dancing or jumping up and down, spinning around in circles, spinning on a rolling chair etc.)

- Give them an interest in fashion or makeup (not neccesarily a special interest.)

- Let them have other interests besides a special interest. We have other things we like, they just aren't as importent to us.

- Have them be stubborn but understand why and make sure the readers/audience understands.

- WRITE THEIR POV!!!!

- Write them having shutdowns instead of meltdowns.

- Don't have them constantly compromising on shit or compromising easily.

- Write them having a completed relationship with morality and "goodness."

- If they aren't aro, write them feeling very intense romantic love that consumes and overwhelmed them.

- Have them feeling very intense emotions in general.

- Have them showing love in autistic ways, ie bringing people gifts and quoting shit, parallel play etc.)

-If they are not ace or ace but not sex repulsed, if they are an adult, and you are comfortable writing it have them be hypersexual and also preferably kinky. This is actually really common in my experience.

- Have them show frustration at having to live in a neurotypical, ableist world that wasn't made for them.

- Have them struggle with communicating their feelings and finding the right words to describe their feelings.

- Have them use quotes to describe their feelings or song lyrics.

- Let them be entitled to their space and their freedom.

- Give them trust issues. Look I don't want to be defined by trauma any more then the next autistic person, but it's kind of where we're at you know?

- Have them be a little paranoid about whether or not people actually like them.

- Let them have stuffies and stim toys and chewies. They don't have to be store bought they can be home made.

- Have them be hyper-empathetic. I've never seen an autistic hyper-empathetic character before.

- Have them be good with cats.

- Have them be a good dancer/enjoy dancing.

- Have them do facial stims like scrunching up their face or twitching their nose.

- Have them lose speech during a meltdown or a shutdown and have to write things down or use a communication device for awhile.

- Have them be a bad student or struggle with school.

- Have them hate math please I will love you forever!!!!

- Have them engage in echolalia (when you hear something that sticks out to you and you repeat it back over and over again)

- Make them sarcastic! Lots of autistic people are actually really sarcastic.

- Have them struggle with executive dysfunction.

- Show them showing signs of autistic happiness!! Like happy stimming. When I get really excited I tend to shreak and jump up and down or I flap my hands or bang them against a nearby table.

- Allow them to fuck up.

- In terms of grief, have them have very emotionally delayed reactions to grief. I reccomend research autistic peoples experiences with loss specifically if you are going to make this part of the story.

- Have them experience a lot of emotional delays where things don't hit them right away.

- Have them disassociate in traumatic situations.

- Make sure in general you understand their motivations as you're writing them. Don't just have them do things because "weird quirky autistic character!"

- Give them autistic friends and let them interact with the community!

I know I'm probably forgetting stuff, but this is all I can think if for now. If you have any questions about anything or any of the points I made let me know.

#actuallyautistic #autistic representation #autistic writing references #cw sex mention #cw kink mention

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potteresque-ire · 4 years ago

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Hello. I just turned to be a turtle recently after being a solo fan mostly because of toxic atmosphere of solo fans. May I ask, were relationships between XZ and YB solos always so intense and also bad attitude to BJYX even during the promotion “the untamed”? Or did this conflict start after the events of 2020? Thank you in advance.

Hello, and Happy 2021! I’m a super new fan of the fandom, and so these aren’t questions I’m qualified to answer at all. I’m more comfortable providing some wider sociopolitical contexts to fandom-related events because I’ve been reading about Chinese news for a loooong time. My “investigative interest” (oh dear, that sounds so pretentious) is also more on understanding the CP culture in general, how it ties with the country’s state of affairs rather than focusing specifically on Gg and Dd. While I’ve read back on some history re: gg and dd’s fandoms, Tumblr is the only site where I’ve interacted directly with fellow fans.

But I’ve written up what I’ve understand about solo and CP fans for c-dramas so far, mostly for my own benefit (I have a ridiculously poor memory!). Maybe it can offer some insight? This is very new information to me as well; so, if anyone spots something wrong or wants to supplement, please jump right in!

Wars between the fans of the leads of a CP (“ship” in English; stands for “couple”) aren’t new. Conflicts between solo and CP fans also aren’t new.

Competition is the most obvious cause of wars between the fans of the leads of a CP. Especially in the case of M/M pairings, the person “bound” to each idol by their CP is also, by default, about the most “direct” competitor one can have. They’re likely to be of the same age group, share similar fan demographics. Popularity of young male idols (often called “Little Fresh Meat” 小鮮肉, a nickname I’ve abhorred for the decade or so it’s come to existence) also isn’t expected to last, so the two CP leads must make the most of their newfound fame within the same time frame. The competition is more than fighting for similar roles; in China, another major arena is endorsements, in which an idol’s popularity is by measured by 1) the number they hold and 2) the units they sell. Here in the US, stars choose their endorsements based on how well they fit their image; there, stars take as many as they can as long as the negotiated terms are satisfactory. Hence, dd is the spokesperson of 25 products / services in 2020 (including an insurance company (!!)).

I’ve also read about this norm in the industry, which I have yet to verify: in China, if two stars compete for the endorsement of the same brand product, the one who loses will not get endorsements of same products from different brands — at least, not in the short term — because any brand who uses the star who lost would be seen as inferior. Hence, to lose the competition on one endorsement deal can mean losing the endorsement deals for an entire category of products.

(Someone on Weibo has pointed this out: while Gg and Dd have often endorsed competing brands of the same product: Budweiser (gg) and Yenching beer (dd), for example; they have never fought for the endorsement of same brand product. Again, I haven’t verified this.)

This part is easy to understand.

The next question is: why are solo fans against CP fans? “Girlfriend fans” — solo fans who can’t bear to seeing their idol paired up with anyone other than themselves — only make up a fraction of the fandom. How are CP fans generally perceived?

My key findings so far: CP fans are *perceived* to be more likely to express negative views about their idol paired up with other actors / actresses, which will affect viewership and ratings, restrict the kind of roles their idol will be invited to play. More importantly, CP fans are *perceived* as fickle — more likely to walk away after their favourite CP drama has ended, because as CP lovers, they’re thought to be equally in love with the romantic gestures as with the stars who perform them on/off stage. ie, When another drama comes along featuring the same romantic gestures, the CP fans are expected to jump ship.

I highlight the word “perceive”, because while it doesn’t matter how solo fans see CP fans, it does matter how the business side of c-ent view CP fans and it appears to share this view. The c-YiZhan fandoms have been unhappy with the publicity of the upcoming adapted BL dramas for this reason — aside from their allegations that it’s copying The Untamed’s BTS, the thing that has offended them the most, perhaps, is the very idea that the marketing departments thought a few “leaked” photos of the leads acting intimately close are enough to woo them away from YiZhan, from Gg and Dd.

Given this, perhaps, prevalent view of CP fans, CP fandoms have been viewed as something disposable, almost, to be made, used and discarded quickly.

Before and during the airing of the drama, the marketing / publicity teams fuel and encourage CP fandoms, reap the benefits in viewership from the ensuing discussions and hot searches. Solo fans usually aren’t threatened by CP fandoms in this nascent phase—CP fandoms have been far smaller in size and only grow during the broadcast.

More importantly, the norms have been that CP fandoms do not last.

CP fandoms do have a tendency to “self-combust” over time: fans * within * the fandom accusing each other of being partial to one of the leads — spending more money on A’s endorsements, for example, or buying more copies of B’s music. However, this isn’t how many CP fandoms die. Instead, once the show is over, the process of “Breaking the CP” begins. I’m not sure who gets this process going, but my guess is the leads’ management companies, with consent (willing or unwilling) from the actors. Breaking the CP means having the CP leads avoid each other as soon as the drama is done airing, and for as long as it takes for the CP fandoms to dissipate. It means no more appearing in the same drama and shows; no more sharing a stage; and if they happen to be at the same event, they are to communicate as little as possible. This “loosening the bind” between the leads is designed to free the actors up for the next CPs, and its way of execution can be very abrupt, very … cruel for the CP fans. For one of 2020 summer dramas (Love and Redemption 琉璃), for example, a popular character (het) CP pairing was broken up in the last fan meet, 10 days after the final episode had aired. The fan meet was marketed as a CP event (there was even merch for the CP); CPs fans bought the tickets, perfectly aware of the unsaid “CPs are made to be broken” rule and it’d likely be the last time they’d see their CP together. But the organisers denied them even this last chance; the leads of the CP had no interactions, not even eye contact during the entire event. The actor didn’t acknowledge the actress in his farewell speech. The fans understandably got upset; even outsiders sympathised, stating that the CP-breaking could be handled with a little more consideration. Word on the street was that because the male lead already had other dramas lined up, the CP had to be broken up as quickly as possible.

(Weibo Night from almost a year ago was seen as a “Break the CP” event for Gg and Dd. Some turtles still cry at the memory of it.)

There’s a term related to the breaking of CPs: 提純 (“increasing the purity”). It describes the ultimate goal of breaking CPs: increasing the proportion of solo (”pure”) fans by breaking up the CP and having the solo fandoms of each lead absorb the CP fans. Because solo fans are *perceived* to be more loyal (won’t jump ship the next romantic drama comes along), less likely to draw criticisms (especially if the CP is M/M and/or affect the RL lives of their stars), and have more purchasing power (as CP fans have to divide their resources between the two leads and equally).

How does this affect how solo fans see CP fans? Another way to say the above is: one CP fan is one fan the two solo fandoms fail to capture. One more CP fan is one less solo fan. “CP fan” should be a temporary identity. CP fandoms sequester resources from the solo fandoms until they’re broken up.

This sets the stage for conflicts if the CP fandoms refuse to fade, if the CP fans refuse to turn solo.

The conflict between solo and CP fandoms is, of course, even more heated for real-person CP’s, which can, indeed, pose a significant threat to the leads’ life and career. An easy example of the former is if one of the CP leads are in a RL relationship, and/or if the lead is straight but the CP is queer (this is the case for The Guardian (2018), the first popular adapted BL “dangai” drama). Another major issue with real-person CPs (queer or not) is that the media will make frequent comparisons of the leads’ follow-up career. If the CP “bind” remains, the lead perceived as less popular may be viewed as using the more popular one to sustain their popularity. Fans of the more popular lead do not take that well. The management company of the less popular lead takes that even less well, and its PR team will work even harder to eliminate the CP from public discussion.

Overall, the “breaking the CP” strategy works as intended. As long as the CP leads stop interacting, no more new candies are generated for the CP fandoms, and even the best candies have an expiration date. The CP fans move on, often to other CP pairings—the CP breaking process often leave them hurt and disappointed at the leads—and further propagating the perception that they are fickle souls who prefer candies over actors.

With this background, it doesn’t surprise me that the relationship between the fans of Gg, Dd, and Yizhan has been so intense since the airing of the Untamed… it would actually surprise me (much) more if it isn’t.

First and foremost, if I take away my YiZhan-tinted lens (as much as I can anyway!), the competition between Gg and Dd automatically becomes The Battlefield in c-ent. Gg and Dd are among the most popular idols right now, and there’s a strong urgency in this competition as idol popularity is perceived to have a limited shelf life. Now, 18 months after The Untamed, Gg and Dd are not only vying for survival in the same industry—which may encourage cooperation between the two solo fandoms—they’re vying for the throne.

Things are already extra tense that way. Here’s an analogy I can think of—it’s easier to accept losing a lottery by getting every number wrong than getting a single number wrong, and by one count. It’s harder for solo fans to accept being number 2, when number 1 was a co-star, the other half of their idol’s CP.

Now, into this unresolved tension, throw in a huge curveball known as the YiZhan fandoms. A curveball that isn’t even supposed to exist — CP fandoms are all supposed to fizzle out quickly after the show is over. Instead, the BJYX supertopic on Weibo (by far the biggest of the three Yizhan CPs) had 1.5 million members in January 2020. It now has 2.8 million (January 2021).

(For reference, dd’s supertopic has 5.4 million members and gg’s, 7.7 million.)

These YiZhan fandoms aren’t merely living on their last breath, their stale candies. They’re thriving. Self-combustion hasn’t happened. CP fans of Gg and Dd keep finding fresh candies, keep having new things to rejoice and scream about.

If I put myself in the shoes of a solo fan, what does this continued growth of the YiZhan fandoms mean? It means the “binding” between My Idol and That-Other-Idol-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, each a contender of the c-ent throne, is strengthening instead of loosening. It means more and more fans of My Idol are exhibiting signs of wavering loyalty, by becoming fans of both My Idol and That-Other-Idol. Fan culture in China is highly organized, requiring strategy, cooperation and obedience when it comes to generating the best numbers for their idol (sells, ratings, viewership etc). Having to rely on the fickle CP fans to generate these numbers means uncertainty and anxiety.

People behave differently when they’re nervous. Some chew on their fingernails. Some attack.

2020, of course, make the solo fandoms even more nervous about each other. Gg, post-227, isn’t a safe person to be “bound to”, and also to have one’s career compared against—given the bad publicity that has circulated around him, given the fact that he has managed to stay on top in spite of it. Dd, meanwhile, has grown in popularity while Gg goes into hiding—while I personally do not, for a moment, believe Dd has anything to do with 227, it is within human nature to ask: if one loses—and in a manner so publicised, so catastrophic that even the Western media reported on it—who has the most to gain? Work culture in almost every industry in China is extremely cut-throat, and securing victory by not-so-clean methods isn’t uncommon with the immense pressure to perform. Fans are bringing in their experiences from RL in how they view their idol’s competition—with suspicion, with defensiveness. With swords sharpened and ready for counterattacks.

The ultimate cherry-on-top when it comes to causing conflicts between Gg’s, Dd’s and YiZhan fandoms is, of course, the fact that YiZhan is no garden-variety, heterosexual, character CP. It’s a M/M real person CP, in a society where homosexuality, while legal, is still considered “non-mainstream values” and explicitly censored from TV; where personal freedoms have overall been tightening and laws can change overnight. It’s one thing if their idol is truly in a queer relationship and chooses to announce it themselves; it’s a whole different story if it’s some fans of another idol who “out” them—who publicise their queerness that, in the eyes of these solo fans, may very well be fictional. 227 has already confirmed that in c-ent, idols pay the price of their fan’s wrongdoings and in this case, all it takes is for the YiZhan fandoms to make a single mistake—to celebrate one candy too loudly, for example (“to dance outside the circle”), and catch the attention of the wrong government official — to not only cost their idols their popularity, but their whole career. To the solo fans, therefore, the mere existence of the YiZhan fandoms pose a huge risk to their idol that should’ve been avoidable in the first place. And when they check out the new candies, what do they see? They see Gg leaving hints suggestive of Dd; they see Dd doing inexplicable things that can be linked to Gg. c-Turtles joke sometimes that solo fans are even better than they are at spotting the connections between Gg and Dd. But while turtles see these connections as evidences of a romantic relationship, what solo fans see is the other idol latching onto their own, whose fame makes it a reasonable act; they see it as the other solo fandom carelessly jeopardizing their own idol’s career for the sake of more noise and popularity.

The solo fandoms end up fighting. They have few reasons NOT to do so without the YiZhan-tinted lens.

That said though, I’m not sure if the wars between Gg’s, Dd’s and YiZhan fandoms are truly getting worse. As I write this, my thought is: perhaps it’s not that the fans are disliking each other more, but rather, more and more people are getting involved, and the stakes, the risks are becoming higher and higher. Gg and Dd both had fans during the filming of The Untamed, but they were a small fraction, quantity wise, to what it is now. Even if, at the time, 100% of Gg and Dd fans hated each other, they still wouldn’t have generated the noise than, say, if 0.01% of Gg’s fans are arguing with 0.01% of Dd’s fans now. The arguments then, however ugly they could be, would’ve stayed off hot searches, and largely within the two fandoms. These days, however, when even Gg shaking a pen can make it into hot search (as he did during the Tencent Awards), every heated exchange is amplified by passer-bys, by antis, by done-for-money re-bloggers. Quarrels snowball exponentially to the number of mouths pitching in; so does the antagonistic sentiments behind the hurtful words purposefully or accidentally spilled. Meanwhile, the c-YiZhan fandoms have reached the size that as much as they’ve tried to keep everything away from the public eye, it’s not really possible anymore. Search BJYX online, and videos after videos pop up for any outsider who wish to get a primer—and there’s no control over that content. Gg and Dd’s commercials hint at it. The Tencent Awards show host cued it. Before, the YiZhan fandoms may still be able to get away with a mistake or two. Now, they can make half a mistake and all the info already floating around will make sure that half a mistake will round to one.

If I were a solo fan, perhaps I’d scream my lung out too. Think of how terrible this all is, if Dd(Gg) is actually Gg(Dd)’s most fierce competition, as his being the other half of the CP is meant to be. Think of all the damages these fantastical speculations can do, if My Idol isn’t queer and tomorrow, the government comes down with a decree that outlaws queerness. Maybe My Idol will be spared if he isn’t at the top. But My Idol is at the top. Everyone will point to him. The hot searches will show his name, make sure the powers-that-be see it. He … his downfall… can be made an example …

Okay, okay, I’ll stop playacting here. Phew. That was scary * pats turtle shell to confirm its presence * :) . But can you see how deep that fear can go, for a fan who really, really loves and is therefore protective of their idol? How this fear, which stems from love, can turn into hate and generally loud, angry yelling across the internet?

#Anonymous #pie answers #pie metas #yizhan #bjyx

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with-my-murder-flute · 4 years ago

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Hi everybody, thanks for the asks letting me know I made the top of @yusuftiddies’ list of Homophobes in TOG Fandom, you can stop sending them now.

So.

I can make mistakes and fuck up and own that. I am serious about listening to marginalized people. But... in this case, while @yusufstiddies generally describes factual events that happened and factual posts that exist, I have to say that I can’t actually apologize for the things I’m called out for because I don’t think they’re homophobic. The things he criticizes me for are things that come from a lot of personal experience as a queer bisexual cis woman, as well as a lot of reflection, research, and study. I believe in them really strongly and stand by them.

I’m really sorry if this makes TOG fandom too hostile, because it is not my intention to make this place so unpleasant that anyone feels driven out. I understand if my stance means people no longer want to follow me/read my stuff/participate in projects I’m involved with (though I’d rather hand off the Research Hub to someone else than see it go down with me). I’m posting this so people can know where they stand before they decide whether to keep interacting with my blog, or “deplatform” me as @yusufstiddies recommends.

I would recommend, for anyone who doesn’t want to see my posts, using Tumblr’s new post content filtering feature. If you type a username (like star-anise or with-my-murder-flute) into it, Tumblr will hide all posts featuring that specific string of characters, and therefore any post or reblog of mine.

To address the accusations against me:

I am an anti-anti: Yes. I’ve reblogged posts of mine about this before. I care passionately about preventing child abuse, but I think there are better ways to prevent child abuse in fandom (like concrete harassment policies so predatory behaviour can be reported and stopped early, and education about digital consent and healthy relationships) than attacking people who write “bad ships,” not least because the first people it hurts are abuse survivors trying to work through their trauma, and because the research says you cannot actually tell who’s a sexual predator based on what they write about. Fiction affects reality, but not on a 1:1 basis. My mainblog, @star-anise, has a really extensive archive of my writing on the subject.

I said cishet men aren’t more privileged than gay men: Kinda. What I actually did was question whether Every Single Cishet Man benefits from more privilege than Every Single Gay Man. If a man is cishet but gets beaten up because people perceive him as gay, he’s not exactly feeling the warm toasty glow of heterosexual privilege in that moment. Oppression is complicated and there are times when someone’s lack of privilege on one axis is way less important than someone else’s lack of privilege on another axis.

The post above also includes me reblogging someone else’s addition about how straight men can be included in the queer movement: I’m queer. @yusufstiddies has made it very clear that he isn’t comfortable with the word “queer” and doesn’t like it. Therefore I think it’s understandable that he might not understand that the queer community sees ourselves as a coalition of people dedicated to dismantling the structures of sex and gender that oppress us, not a demographic of people whose gender identities or sexual orientations can be neatly mapped. However, I would say that doesn’t make queer theory inherently homophobic.

There are also some related points @yusufstiddies didn’t level at me specifically, but I would like to address:

The constant focus on the unsafeness of cishet people:

I’m not cishet. I’m a bisexual woman who’s dated women. Sixth-light is a queer woman married to a woman. This is not an issue of non-LGBTQ+ people blundering their way into something they don’t experience the daily consequences of. This is an issue of people from WITHIN the LGBTQ+ community who sincerely disagree with @yusufstiddies about the pressures we experience and how best to deal with them. I think that even if @yusufstiddies were to filter his fiction input to only LGBT-written work about LGBT experiences, or even only trans-written work about trans people, he would still find a lot of things he finds upsetting or transphobic, because sexual and gender identities are really diverse and not everything will suit one person.

The contention that saying “’Queer is a slur’ is TERF propaganda” is transmisogyny because it dilutes the definition of “TERF”:

People who point out the phrase is TERF propaganda are not calling every person who says it a TERF, and we are not trying to argue that telling a queer person that queer is a slur is inherently equal to the kind of damage a TERF does when she attacks a trans woman out of transphobia. Queer people being able to use the word “queer” does not have the same importance as trans women being able to live, work, and survive in public. Rather, we are literally saying, “This is a thing TERFs say when they take a break from attacking trans women and try to recruit new members to their group, so it’s in our best interests to not give it too wide a currency.”

Some people have experienced the word “queer” used as a hateful word hurled against them and don’t want to hear it ever again. I get that. It happens. Where I grew up, “gay” was a synonym for “shitty” and it took me a lot of years out of high school before the word “gay” wouldn’t shoot my blood pressure through the roof. I actually do understand that and think that’s valid (and again, support using post content filtering for that word).

One of the things I do at @star-anise is argue with young people who are headed into full-on transmisogynistic TERF territory, and work at reeling them back and deradicalizing them. I use a tag called “weedwhacking” so my followers can filter out the sometimes lengthy back-and-forths we get going.

Something I’ve learned, interacting with so many TERFs and proto-TERFs, is that one way they frequently get recruited into harassing trans people was through discourse around the word “queer”. For one, it encouraged them to want to distance themselves from any perception of LGBT people as “weird” or “not normal”, which led to seeing trans people as “weird” and “not normal” and therefore not good members of the “gay pride” community. For two, repeating “queer is a slur” predictably causes a lot of queer people to react in a defensive manner, so by teaching young or new people to say it, TERFs can set them up to feel alienated from the larger LGBTQ+ community and more open to TERF propaganda.

The next issue isn’t mentioned in the original callout post, but I think it’s key to this entire issue:

@yusufstiddies has made several posts about what cishet people should and shouldn’t write. For example, cishets shouldn’t write Nicky experiencing internalized homophobia. Another is a detailed post of things cishets shouldn’t write about trans people, including which sexual positions only trans people are allowed to write. I would imagine that part of his frustration with fandom has been the lack of traction those posts have gotten. I know I very deliberately didn’t reblog them.

That isn’t because I don’t agree that the things he complains about are rarely handled well by cishet authors. I agree that there’s a lot of bad fic out there that contributes to negative stereotypes against LGBTQ+ people and is basically a microaggression to read.

I have two very deeply-seated reasons for my position:

LGBTQ+ identities are different from many other political identities because most people are not born identifiably LGBTQ+. It’s something we have to figure out about ourselves. And one really important way that we do that is using the safety of fiction to explore what an experience would be like, sometimes years before we ever admit that we fit the identity we’ve written about. So banning cishet authors from writing something is really likely to harm closeted and questioning LGBTQ+ people. It will lengthen the amount of time questioning people take before finding the identity that really fits them, and force closeted people to be even more closeted.

There’s a lot of undeniably shitty stuff in fandom. However, I fundamentally believe that trying to target the people creating it and forcing them to stop doesn’t work very well, and has the serious byproduct of killing the creativity and enthusiasm of the rest of fandom and resulting in less of the actual thing you like being produced. I think that it is infinitely more productive to focus on improving the ratio of good stuff in fandom than trying to snuff out every bad thing.

Like I said: I understand if this means former followers, mutuals, or friends no longer want to interact with me. I’ll be saddened, but I’ve obviously chosen this path and can deal with the consequences.

I wish this could have worked out differently.

#my stuff #the old guard

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bookofmormonmemes · 4 years ago

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I don't think comp het would be strong enough to lead Corianton to seek out a female harlot when he could have easily Not Done That and spared himself and his family and his church the embarrassment. What else could he possibly have hoped to gain from that decision besides satisfying the lusts of his eyes? I mean, Alma clearly thought that Corianton's horniness was the main problem and there's no evidence to the contrary. Why out of Alma's sons would you think Corianton is gay?

honestly? projection. like not to get personal but comp het was strong enough scare the hell out of my parents with how quickly and intensely physical my relationship with my boyfriend got in my freshman year of college. I’m an afab person and I am not attracted to boys, but for a while I thought maybe it was just because I wasn’t trying hard enough--wasn’t opening up enough, wasn’t letting myself enjoy his affection. At this time, I was still operating under the viewpoint that marrying a man was the only way for me to ever be happy, in this life or the next. If I could endure my discomfort long enough to eventually accept and actually enjoy our physical relationship, that meant that i Could have a happy heterosexual marriage in the future

and i tried to speedrun it! i went way outside my comfort zone, definitely way outside the For the Strength of Youth guidelines--because the alternative was, if I couldn’t force myself to feel something for him, then i would Never have that happiness. If I Could eventually become attracted to him, then I had a future. I could repent of this unchastity and try again. if i Couldn’t, that was it--I was fully a lesbian and my only choices were either celibacy or apostasy.

(i don’t feel that way anymore. this boy and I broke up after like 4 months. im v happy with the girlfriend I have now and I think our relationship and the affection between us has progressed much more naturally and comfortably and im very grateful for that.)

I think it’s entirely possible Corianton could have had those same (or similar) feelings. Alma specifies that Corianton is in his youth, so I think he might have been just starting to realize he’s different, and didn’t know what to do when confronted with the possibility that he might not like women. So he goes after a harlot, someone who’s already stolen away the hearts of many, someone with enough celebrity for Alma to call her out by name. It’s like when you ask a closeted lesbian her celebrity crush and she just says Chris (Chris Evans? Chris Pine? Just whoever’s most popular, whoever everybody else has a crush on!). Because if he can really feel that lust for Isabel, then afterwards he can repent and find a Good Mormon Nephite Girl to actually fall in love with. If he can’t manage any attraction to Siron’s Top Sexiest Bachelorette, he’s done for. It’s a last-ditch effort to fit the mold.

And it doesn’t work. He comes home, having embarrassed his family and his church, and he sits down for a lecture and he is Not Having A Good Time. Which...I think may be the reason Alma perceives that Corianton’s so worried about mortality and the afterlife. After falling so far and failing so bad, Corianton may have very well been suicidal at this point. If he doesn’t have any hope of Hetero Happiness in this life, maybe his only shot is in the next.

So in the end of chapter 41, Alma talks about resurrection and restoration in a way that I think is pretty key to this interpretation. Every queer member of the Church has heard that they’ll be “fixed” (i.e. made straight/cis) in the Resurrection, but Alma refutes that in this section so hard and so explicitly. In verse 12-13: “Is the meaning of the word restoration to take a thing of a natural state and put it in an unnatural state, or to place it in a state opposite to its nature? O, my son, this is not the case; but the meaning of the word restoration is to bring back again evil for evil...good for that which is good.” Whether good or bad, Corianton isn’t gonna be changed in the Resurrection; he’s not gonna be a different person, he’s not gonna be rid of what he perceives as being wrong with him. That might be a comfort. It might not. But it’s the truth.

In the next chapter Alma goes on to specify that this life is the time to fix what we’ve done wrong. And specifically, that we can fix what we’ve done wrong. And also that that’s not necessarily a get-out-of-jail-free card! Corianton should NOT have abandoned his mission to go after Isabel, regardless of his reasons. And he’s not gonna change his nature in the next life. So right now, he needs to repent. He needs to accept his nature. He does have hope, and he has that hope of happiness in goodness, in treating others with truth and mercy and service.

Alma closes chapter 41 not with a call to be more virtuous or pure, but to be merciful and just with his brethren and to do good--focusing not on how righteous we are in our own selves, but how we treat one another. Finally, he closes chapter 42 (and his talk to corianton in general) similarly: “Go thy way, declare the word with truth and soberness, that thou mayest bring souls unto repentance, that the great plan of mercy my have claim upon them.” Basically: you screwed up, kiddo, but I love you and I believe in you and you’ve got good work to do. Don’t worry. Be kind. Keep determined. Find joy in community. You have hope.

also when all is said and done corianton goes on the cool sailing pilgrimage with hagoth & co. which is Very Gay if i may say

So. Do I think Corianton was gay, and do I think I have good reason for that? Yes. Do I think he was out to his dad, or that Alma would have been supportive, or that Nephite society would have the same homophobia and heteronormativity as the Church today? I don’t know. I’m more of an artist than a scholar--I interpret based on how I feel. I liken the scriptures to myself. This is the evidence I see, this is the story I feel is behind it, this is the eisegesis I’m choosing to take from it. Because it speaks to me, and I relate to it!

I hope this has been a thoughtful adequate answer, but to really tl;dr it basically he’s gay cus im gay and i said so, and that’s really all there needs to be to it! Thank you for sending me this ask and thereby allowing me the space to really study and wax long-winded about this jsdfghjdjfg. gay sailor rights and i hope u have a lovely sunday

#led #ask #anonymous #THIS IS A LONG ONE FOLKS #alma 39-42 #and also a brief mention of #alma 63:5-10 #gay sailor RIGHTS #lemme know if i need to put any warnings on this cus its a little heavy but #also lemme know if i should split it into a keep readin sdfgdhfgj #stead of just. fillin ur dash #im leaving it as is for now but yeah #yeah.#also if anyone tries to call me out for saying im not attracted to boys while thirsting over podcast and anime boys on my main #fictional characters don't count #and i will die by that sword

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keen-arts · 4 years ago

Note

Actually, since everybody's been talking about dad Geoff and his queer crew, do you have any hcs/ideas about how everybody in the crew comes out or how the others find out? I kind of picture Gavin completely avoiding it until that night with Michael because he's scared of what they'll say, whereas Michael's more like "yeah I'm gay, you got a problem with that?? wanna fight about it??" but he has no idea what to say next if they're actually loving and supportive

So I’m going to put in my headcanons on how they came out, and what their orientation and gender are. A note, some of my fics don’t share these, but usually have two or three of these in them.

This ended up being really long, so full post under the cut.

Jeremy (Rimmy Tim): They/He Nonbinary person, Bi. Jeremy kind of had to come out since he was assigned female at birth. Matt and Trevor knew him longer, before any of them joined the crew. They didn’t know him before he came out, but met him maybe 7 or 8 months after he started HRT. When they joined the crew, Jack was the first to know. Jeremy assumed because she was also trans she would be understanding, and she was. He told Geoff one-on-one, and then the rest of the crew during an informal family meeting (everyone had questions, but were understanding and supportive).

Michael: He/Him Cisgender Man, Pan. Michael didn’t really ever come out. His thought was it was his business what he labeled himself, and if anyone had any issues, they were going to have a bad time. Everyone kinda clued in when he and Gavin started dating (while he and Lindsay had already been dating. There was always open communication, and Lindsay was supportive from the start).

Gavin: Pronoun Indifferent, though most often uses He/Him, Queer, Demisexual and Demiromantic (specifically Queer is a radical reclamation of the identity/slur for him. Queer is both his gender and part of his orientation). It was hard for Gavin to come out. Geoff and Jack are parental figures, even if they aren’t all that much older than him. With Michael and Lindsay, he started questioning and talking to them. He doesn’t really define it past queer for anyone. (Lindsay and him are queer platonic, Meg is also dating him and Lindsay, but not Michael). Gavin is often sex repulsed, specifically with himself in the scenario.

Jack: She/They Transgender Woman, Pan. Jack came out to Geoff first and foremost. They were friends before she began to transition, and he was supportive all the way. She never had to come out to the rest of the crew, literally wearing her gender on her shoulder.

Geoff: He/Him. He hasn’t labeled anything, but he’s some flavour of not-cishet and in general questioning. Through the rest of the crew he began questioning. He’s said before that he’s something or other, but feels too old to try and figure out what his orientation is. (This is very similar to something IRL Geoff has said, as well).

Lindsay: They/Them Nonbinary person, Bi. Lindsay, much like IRL Lindsay, knew they were Bi early. A little projection on my part, they knew as early as middle school. Their relationship with gender is messier. It was hard to find the words, they’re a little older than Jeremy, so when they were in their early 20s, “nonbinary” simply wasn’t a phrase. They’ve only more recently been able to define it, and are still working through what all this means for them. (Michael, Meg, and Gavin are all very supportive, as are the remainder of the crew).

Alfredo: He/Him Cisgender Man, Biromantic, Demisexual. Alfredo just loves who he loves. He’s a very sensual person, but his relationship to sex is complicated. He enjoys feeling confident and sexy, but not being objectified.

Trevor: He/Him Cisgender Man, Pan. Trevor is very similar to Alfredo, he simply loves who he loves. He’s very supportive of his found family and works on being a good ally. He reads a lot of LGBTQ+ literature to better understand, advocate, and appreciate his family.

Fiona: She/Her Nonbinary person, Bi with a preference for femininity. Fiona doesn’t explain her gender to people she doesn’t trust. She’s very masculine, but prefers the pronouns associated with the gender she was assigned at birth. She loves women of all shapes and sizes.

Matt: He/Him Nonbinary person, Panromantic Demisexual. Similar to Fiona, Matt is most comfortable with the pronouns he was assigned and doesn’t define his gender to people he doesn’t know or trust. He loves who he loves and loves freely and deeply. He is somewhat sex repulsed, but it varies on head space, mood, etc.

Everyone is a little poly depending, and some of them are dating each other or outside the crew. It’s very freeform and just. Whatever. Even if they’re not romantically or sexually attracted to each other, there’s an overwhelming feeling of family and/or queer platonic partner.

Some haven’t had the “sit down and talk/explain” type coming outs. Sometimes it simply is. Often the actual moment of “coming out” is something like “I’m too gay for this shit” or, upon seeing someone they vibe with “Oh I am SO bi”, that type of thing.

#keen ship #ragehappy #fake ah crew #Anonymous

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afoolforatook · 4 years ago

Text

On fandom and tragic romance tropes, from someone who's lived it.

Okay, this is kind of…. Idk a very specific vent and tbh one I feel kinda bad about because I genuinely don’t want to make people feel bad for liking reading/writing romantic angst or tragedy and it’s really less of an individual issue than an overall attitude in fandom.

Like, it’s absolutely okay to like not happy endings, and angst doesn’t have to just be for cathartic relief. Angst isn’t only acceptable if it’s to process trauma, you’re allowed to like it just because that’s your taste.

But at the same time…. I can’t help but have very personal feelings about how a lot of fandom spaces treat tragic romance tropes…

(this got really long but... it's something I've wanted to address for a long time)

I'm far from secretive with the fact that when I was 20, my girlfriend Emma (19) was killed in a car crash, along with her younger brother, mother, and aunt, and that a lot of my art and writing is purposefully about processing and accepting that grief. Fandom has been a very important part of how I’ve gotten through the last five years, which I’ll get into a bit more in a minute, but tbh it’s also been a lot harder navigating fandom and especially anything ship-related since Emma died, because of how people tend to romanticize a character tragically losing a partner.

And honestly, it’s not just fandom, it’s media in general. And mainstream media focus on tragic sob stories, shock factor, and BYG tropes is definitely a big part of the problem.

But as much as fandom pushes against mainstream overuse of such tropes, there is a good portion of fandom that falls into the same type of issue. And not just ‘fandom’ in the usual sense, but literary communities, poetry, etc…

The amount of times I see stories or prompts about characters tragically losing their partner, and that being the climax of the story, and then next to nothing about that character actually navigating their grief or being able to eventually start a new relationship or just be happy is just…. It makes me feel physically ill.

Like, people saying how tragic love stories are more interesting than happy endings. Or seeing a post about tragic pairing prompts and people saying things like ‘or they think it's unrequited but then A dies and B finds a letter confessing and they really loved each other but now it's too late’ and more people being like ‘YES YOU GET IT THAT'S THE GOOD STUFF’

Just… really, honestly. It's okay to like angst, even really tragic angst. I’m not trying to guilt anyone out of that.

I just….. Most of the time people just talk about it like ‘oh yeah I love some of that good tragic love story shit’ and the stories focus on the build-up and the shock/trauma of the death as it happens and then the excruciating reaction of the survivor and then maybe a time jump to show them happy again.

But very rarely do people take the time to actually handle the grief. People like the good cry of a character mourning their partner, but the vast majority of creators and fans rush through or skip over everything after the initial drama and aftermath. The ‘tragedy’ is the only part they focus on, and then the story ends and they move on.

And like. Shit. I liked that stuff too, I wrote some of it, years ago. And I’m not saying you can’t ever just leave it there, or that if you want to write tragic romance you always have to explore all the long-term emotional consequences.

But try to have it in mind, to consider what message countless grief narratives that end after the funeral, or maybe a few weeks or months later, teach people about real-life grief. This goes for any kind of grief narrative, but the one I see most, the one I used to ‘enjoy’ most myself, is romantic.

But, after having actually lived it? And knowing I'll have to live the rest of my life as the part of the story that usually isn’t told? It turns my stomach the way it’s often handled.

Like seeing people gush about how angsty a fic/idea is, and ‘OH MY GOD SO SAD CAN YOU BELIEVE HOW TRAGIC HOW DARE YOU. I LOVE SEEING/PUTTING THEM THROUGH SO MUCH PAIN’ gets a bit uncomfortable.

Not because there’s something inherently wrong with ever reacting like that, but because most often I can turn around and have the same people not know how to react when I tell them about Emma, not know how to handle the same grief they were just gushing over in fiction, when it’s real.

Grief is isolating enough on its own, but then it just doesn’t feel great when the worst thing to ever happen to you is a huge trope that people gush over, while very rarely fleshing out the actual reality of what it feels like to go through that or how to respond to someone actually dealing with grief, and eventually having to deal with your own grief.

Tbh it’s why I really just kinda have an aversion to the word ‘angst’ in general, and don’t really like to refer to my own writing as angst, even though I know plenty of people might think of it as such. So much of fandom's handling of ‘angst’ has come to feel like voyeuristic tourism of the grief I deal with every day, and will for the rest of my life.

Just, I know people are always going to like tragic angsty romance, and that’s fine, and honestly, it's not even an issue of individuals, but of how fandom in general treats it.

And again, I really don’t want to make anyone feel bad for liking it, and it has its purposes. And even when it’s not for catharsis, it's okay to just like sad stories just because.

I just… I wish more people would keep in mind that it’s not just a tearjerker story trope. People really go through this. And they then often end up feeling very isolated because people around them don't know how to react to their grief, because their grief makes things awkward and a mood killer.

Like, if you love this kind of angst (and not because you personally relate to it or find it cathartic, but just because, just for fun) but then feel awkward around people talking about their real-life grief, maybe spend some time with that, and think about the topic as a real-world trauma and not just a dramatic story trope. (this doesn’t just go for grief. Any kind of trauma you don’t personally deal with, if you love reading/writing it but avoid actually listening to people talking about their real-life experiences with it, think about why that is.)

I just hate seeing loss and initial dramatic grief responses being this shock factor/tearjerker trope, without ever really seriously addressing long-term grief. Especially when it doesn't even do a time jump or anything, and just ends on the surviving character being forever destroyed; when it focuses on the idea of how sad it is for your favorite character to have to spend the rest of their life alone.

And that’s not even folding in any kind of BYG/queer tragedy tropes in canon or fandom spaces.

And like… on a much more individual, less practical point, I just… there’s nothing wrong with angst but honestly (and especially for characters whose canon is in no way tragic) every time I see it I just want to scream WHY…. Why do that to them!? I’m not saying you have to stop, or that you’re not allowed to write trauma you don’t deal with personally. But I will never not cringe a bit at the ‘painful enjoyment’ of a character going through the traumatic loss of a partner. And it’s a sentiment I don’t really see people being okay with in regards to any other kind of trauma.

I don’t have actual numbers, but it sure feels like fandom treats stories about romantic grief very differently than most other traumas. Other trauma, even other kinds of grief, like a close friend or a sibling or parent, etc. tend to at least try to touch on a theme of recovery, or that the emotional turmoil being covered isn’t just a fun angsty trope to spend a little time in and then move on. And of course, this isn’t universal and plenty of people don’t handle these other traumas respectfully or as anything more than dramatic fuel, but this is the trend I’ve personally seen in over 10 years of tumblr fandom. And to that point, even when traumas aren’t respectfully handled I’ve at least seen people try to bring attention to that, with posts about how to respectfully handle disability or addiction or mental health or abuse. I can’t remember off the top of my head a single post like that about grief, let alone specifically romantic grief. It seems to be commonly accepted that while most kinds of trauma can be explored, but still handled respectfully, the death of a partner can just be done for the Drama. People tend to try to learn about abuse or addiction experiences before attempting big angsty stories addressing that. But doomed romance and a grief-stricken lover (it feels like, in my experience) are much more likely to happen on a whim.

Generally, it feels like other kinds of trauma, while still part of ‘angst’ also keeps a sense of awareness of how that narrative reflects real people’s experiences. It’s not just heavy because it’s big dramatic fictional angst, but because it’s grounded in real-life trauma that everyday people who come across it might relate to. Like... I just feel like a lot of fandom spaces treat ‘major character death’ and tragic romantic trope tags as just filters, like they’re needed because ‘not everyone likes angst, it’s just not their thing’ without really acknowledging that it’s a real trauma that everyday people deal with, where (again, often, but of course far from always, and certainly not in mainstream) other tws and tags like assault or substance abuse, people understand that people they interact with might really deal with those issues and they try to not just use them as dramatic fodder and to portray them respectfully.

But grief, especially romantic grief, seems different. The number of people who will come across a fic or edit or piece of art about a tragic love story, and will have had that personal experience of losing a partner, is much lower than people with real experiences with abuse, or addiction, or mental illness. That’s not a bad thing. I wish none of you ever have to know what that feels like.

But because of that, tragic romance ends up seeming like this distant thing. Like it’s only in dramatic tv shows or movies or literature, or lives solely in angsty fandom spaces as a way to get out a good cry. It seems grand and Tragic, off in its own world of dramatic emotional story tropes.

It’s solely pretty dark edits put to song lyrics, or striking art, or beautifully written prose that rips your heart out. It’s Tragic Romance.

And there’s nothing wrong with that inherently. But for many people, it seems like that is what it becomes: fiction. An angsty trope.

I genuinely hope that’s all it ever is for all of you. I wish I could ensure that that good angsty hurt will only ever be a trope you visit when you need a good cry.

But it’s not just fiction.

It's not just angst for sake of drama or fun or poetic storytelling. It’s not grand or romantic or beautifully tragic.

It’s unbearable. It’s physical pain.

That’s not exaggeration or metaphor. It sneaks up on me out of nowhere and it literally feels like someone is crushing my chest. I’ve nearly broken my hand punching a wall because I needed to make something hurt more than this thing in my chest that isn’t even actually there but it hurts so much.

Tbf I think a lot of my attitude towards this really stems more from fandom trends from when I was younger, and I think a lot more people actually try to flesh out grief more these days. But I just remember so much tragic romantic fic and fandom love from when I was a teenager that didn’t go deeper than ‘look how heartbreaking this is it’s so sad, I wanna make everybody read it and cry and it’s just fun and a story, oh my god I couldn't live with that’

no, of course I don't have a few specific old fics or posts from like superwholock days in mind, that I used to gush over too, and now just the idea of makes me feel actually sick

Idk… like I said. I don't at all want to make anyone feel bad for liking that type of angst, and I feel kind of bad for criticizing it. It just…

It hurts seeing basically your exact situation on angsty prompt lists with people gushing about how good it hurts. Especially when the same people would be (and have been) deer in headlights when they find out you’ve lived the same thing. (Again, this goes for any kind of trauma trope, but most others I’ve seen at least some kind of discussion about before)

Just please, try to be mindful of not just how you write stories about grief, but how you talk about death angst in general. (again, certainly not everyone, but more and more) People know to not just romanticize abuse trauma or addictions or mental illness, and to research, and ask for advice to try to be respectful.

And it’s much more common for someone in fandom spaces, in their teens or 20s or 30s to deal with those sorts of trauma than having experienced losing a partner.

But we exist. And while there is plenty of media out there showing tragic young romance, there is very little (in my experience, after nearly five years of desperately looking) real-world acknowledgment and support, or proof that you’ll be able to survive that kind of loss and still be happy, and even less so if they’re queer.

In a couple of months, it will have been five years since Emma’s death. From day one I have not been private about my loss, whenever possible.

And in five years of saying “When I was 20 my girlfriend died.” to new friends, classmates, potential dates, fandom spaces, therapists, grief support forums, etc… do you know how many other people have told me that they also lost a partner as a young adult, whether queer or straight, by accident or suicide or illness?

Zero.

No one. I’ve had people say how they lost a best friend or a sibling or a parent. And those losses, those kinds of grief are certainly not any less traumatic than the loss of a partner. But even in real life, they’re different. Losing a partner, especially at a very young age when it’s likely your main romantic experience, has different emotional effects, and can be harder to find people who directly relate.

Five years. Zero people dealing with the specific facets of grief as me.

The ONLY times I have ever heard about stories like mine in real life are either the rare article or essay or celebrity story, of which I can probably easily count on two hands.

All the other representation I’ve found is in mainstream fiction and fandom.

And of those stories, those fics, that art, the vast majority have had the partner die in the last half, probably closer to the 75% mark, of the story or arc.

If I’m lucky, that last 25% will focus on the immediate aftermath and grief (especially in fic, while a lot of media might give you a few scenes, and then move on to other character arcs).

If I’m really lucky they’ll show some kind of time jump, to say ‘see, they’re still haunted by their lost love but they’ve tried to move on or can pretend to be happy’.

And so much fandom reception is centered around ‘it’s soooooo SADDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD MY POOR HEART IT HURTS SO GOOD. LOVE ME SOME ANGST’, or romanticizing the idea of being unable to live without them, and if they can, it’s often never really putting focus on all the pain it took to process their grief.

Again, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with this individually, or that you shouldn’t gush and scream over fic or art or prompts that hook you because of angst. But it adds up really quickly, especially when, even when getting good genuine support from people, you still see no one else actually living with that feeling like you. The only place you find it is stories, and then you see people mostly excited over just how beautifully sad it is.

And that just feels… I can’t explain it honestly.

Just, think about how you react to or talk about fic or prompts or art about a character crying over their partner’s body, or attending their funeral, and think about whether you’d feel appropriate doing the same if instead, they were dealing with abuse, or addiction, or self-harm.

Again, that’s not to say you can’t ever gush or key smash or such, but is it all you do?

You don’t have to stop enjoying angst and tragic romance. But think about how I just said that.

Enjoy.

Do you only ever act like you ‘Enjoy’ it (and yes, this includes the ‘I’m such a masochist I just love to cry over them, it’s emotional release that doesn’t trigger me’ reaction), and romanticize it?

It’s fine to, sometimes. But do you also appreciate it, and try to understand the real-world weight of it? Do you know what you’d say to a friend if they told you they’d lost a partner?

That ‘love me some good angst’, Dramatic grief, being the main fandom attitude doesn’t just hurt me or others who have lost people close to them, partners or not.

A big part of fandom, and of just society, has no idea how to deal with grief, their own or others. It’s not a light conversation topic, it makes people feel awkward, or walk on eggshells around you, or tell you how they can’t possibly imagine having to go through that (btw, y'all don’t say this to people. About grief, or trauma, or disability or anything like that, just don’t. I’m begging you. And a rant about that kind of thing is for another day but... )

And then, when people inevitably face some form of major grief themselves, they feel ashamed for not handling it ‘right’.

It hurts, to try to find some acknowledgment of your grief, and only ever see stories that show just the first few weeks or months; the feeling of it never possibly being anything but constantly excruciating. Stories that end on ‘they were alone and sad and that is what their story, their love, will live on as; Tragic’. Or, that skip all the work and the doubt and the backsliding, and just show years down the road, when they’ve got a whole new life, and that grief, that love, is just a sad memory that they have ‘moved on’ from. Just a tiny trinket call back.

It feels impossible to survive, to ever be happy again, when you never see grief being treated as more than a tragic story point. And then, as you try your hardest to keep going, to process and heal, and connect to new people, while not forgetting the person you love, not letting them just become your tragic backstory, you see people gush over tragic love stories, over how romantic it is, over how characters loved each other so much they couldn’t live without them. (Thankfully a good bit of fandom seems to be pulling away from this, but it’s still common)

And, if that’s what it is to lose a partner, your soulmate… then… then how am I able to keep living? Even as painful as it is? If true love means not being able to live without the other person, does that mean I didn’t, I don’t, actually love them enough? Am I selfish for still actually wanting to live the rest of my life, even with this pain of the person I love being gone?

Would people read my, our, story and ‘enjoy’ it? Would they find this romantic? Would they scream over a prompt based on the worst event in my life, and have a good cry, and then move on, thinking how sad and beautifully tragically romantic that story would be? Would this person I love and miss more than anything, become just a Tragedy? Just an angsty sob story to gush about how wonderfully painful it was? Would it become about only my pain and heartbreak, and not about the cruelty of this other complete, unique, independent person who was robbed of their entire future?

Maybe that seems melodramatic or putting too much weight on tropes, or fandom. But remember.

Five years.

Zero real people saying ‘I’ve been there too’.

The only places I have seen my grief reflected (beyond a rare celebrity interview, or article) is in fiction, and mostly in fandom.

For over a decade I’ve seen people key smash and gush over angsty ships in fic and art, and I was one of them for a long time.

And then, when it became real life for me, all too often (not always, of course) people wouldn’t know how to handle my real grief. Even when I didn’t want to grieve, but wanted to remember all the reasons I love Emma. My real-life moments of ‘fluff’ that I cling to, become uncomfortable when they know the ‘angst’ to come.

And I don’t blame them. I’m not angry at them for not knowing what to say, for walking on eggshells. They’re not cruel for that, they’re not unsympathetic, it’s not that they just don’t try.

Because, if I’ve found so few real-world stories about this kind of grief, after looking so hard for so long, how can I expect them to have had much more luck?

If the only places I find stories about grief never focus on the reality of life after the funeral, and the process of not moving past, but learning to handle grief, then how can I expect broader fandom to know how to be comfortable around the ugly, boring, repetitive, not at all romantic parts of that grief?

Just, yes. Write, read, love your angst. But please just remember that ‘tragic love story’ happens to people, and while plenty of people might not want to read it because it’s just not their thing, or too depressing, there are those who see those dramatic prompt scenarios, and personally relate to them (I quite often say the events around Emma’s death read like a heavy-handed soap opera, or Queer Tragedy movie, and had had plenty of people agree, even before hearing all the details. And I have literally seen multiple prompts of ‘best friends secretly have feelings for each other, and then finally confess, only to get a short bit of happiness before one dies tragically’)

Write, read, love your angst, your tragic love stories, just please, be as respectful of grief (in any form, but this is mostly a shipping issue in my experience) as you would be (or should be) of other major trigger warnings. Gush and scream about the big dramatic ‘romantic’ tragedies, but don’t then ignore the raw, uncomfortable, vulnerable, cathartic explorations, or the real people dealing with real loss.

Because damn y’all, I’ve seen ‘I just love a good romantic tragedy trope, yes please rip my heart out’ said so many times, with the same tone as saying ‘That fake dating trope, that’s the good stuff’.

I’ve seen people gush over how much more interesting and beautifully cruel it is for young love to end tragically.

And I promise you. It’s not. It just fucking sucks. It’s not romantic or tragically beautiful or poignant. It’s devastating. And it goes on for so much longer than that last quarter of the story.

My grief is more than an angsty prompt. Our relationship, my love for her, is more than a dramatic sob story, more than just awkward sadness that kills the mood. Emma’s life, her memory, is more than my tragic backstory.

I want to be able to find my story in more than just fiction, I want to be able to get support from people who live with similar grief.

But I also want to see grief in fiction, in fandom, become more than a final character arc or Tragic love story; used for dramatic effect; grand and huge for a moment and then never fully processed, or mentioned again; just tragically romantic and heartbreaking and soooo good and angsty.

Grief is one of the only things we will all have to face throughout our lives.

I’m not just asking you to respect my grief or the grief of those around you. But your own future grief. I don’t want you to get there and feel like your grief is wrong, or means that you didn’t love someone ‘enough’ because it doesn’t manifest in a certain way.

Learning to accept grief; to be comfortable around raw, unpoetic, grief; to not hold up certain expressions of grief as Romantic or Poetic, but just honest, will eventually be personally useful for all of us, as much as I wish it wouldn’t.

I want my grief, everyone’s grief, to be seen, and understood, not just romanticized and dramatized.

My love story, Emma’s love story, isn’t beautifully tragic. It isn’t more interesting or poetic than a happy ending. The pain that I will carry with me for the rest of my life is not romantic.

But it is important.

#mine #my writing #tw #grief #death #car crash #fandom analysis #romantic tragedy trope

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annikasafternoonread · 3 years ago

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An Absolutely Remarkable Thing (by Hank Green) -- Part 2

Hello! Welcome to part 2 of the intro post for An Absolutely Remarkable Thing: Annika-has-feelings-about-Hank-Green-and-celebrity-culture edition. This post is less focused on the book itself and more just exploring general themes and ideas; you can find the post that looks more at the book specifically here.

So. An Absolutely Remarkable Thing is one of the coolest and most detailed explorations of celebrity that I’ve ever had the pleasure to experience. And it really is a pleasure. Not always fun, but so so good. It makes sense that Hank Green would have insights into that sphere of things, as someone who, well, started out as a normal (if comfortably wealthy) guy and then suddenly found himself accidentally skyrocketed into fame from making some fun videos. He was lucky, in that he was able to harness that attention and power and become stable and successful in his newfound role as an internet creator. But he was also lucky in that he had the right mindset or support systems or such to realize what he had, and the possibilities and drawbacks and responsibilities it came with.

Hank very much has a unique view into this, for several reasons. First of all, he was quite early to online fame -- VlogBrothers was started in 2007, and took off later that same year. For reference, YouTube itself was only two years old at that point; it started in 2005. So in the almost 15 years since, Hank has had the opportunity to see a lot of different stories play out among creators -- to see them explode in popularity and then fuck up spectacularly, or see them grow steadily and then burn out painfully, or see them take their fans for granted or even take advantage of them. Occasionally everything goes right, but it’s hard, and honestly it’s kind of rare. It’s hard to handle that kind of attention and numbers and power, hard to remain kind and humble and open, hard to listen to criticism without letting it break you and to not step too far out of line before you know better.

But another advantage he had was -- he was old. Not old-old, of course, but he was 27 when VlogBrothers exploded. When so many celebrities popping up these days (especially through social media) are teenagers, or early twenties at the oldest, 27 feels ancient. It meant that he had already lived in the world, already knew who he was and who he wanted to be, already had a strong self-image and strong values. And he had a strong support system around him through his family and friends -- including, of course, his co-VlogBrother, John Green. Having the responsibility and power of their work shared between them likely made a huge difference, as everything they did wasn’t just about one of them but about their shared brand, and they realized that and respected it and each other.

They recognized the power they wielded. They knew how easy it could be to misuse. They were very conscious of their status as role models. They cared about their community and their relationship with it. And there have been times where things were messy, where they made mistakes or said things they shouldn’t have or were mixed up in someone else’s mess. But they’ve always listened and apologized and learned and changed when they needed to. They’ve always encouraged kindness and compassion and hope and education, trying to provide it and nurture it in others around them. Hank has also talked about how he often reaches out to creators who he has heard rumours about or has concerns that they may be on the edge of abusing their power, to try to explain to them what that could mean and who they could hurt -- and hopefully to make them aware and cautious of those potential harms before things go too far.

Fame can be dangerous. That might or might not seem profound, but it’s very true, and it’s not talked about a lot. When I see famous people -- especially young people -- acting selfish or foolish or hubristic or uncaringly, yeah it makes me angry sometimes, but it also makes me sad. Because, think about it -- if you were 13 years old, and suddenly the world was laid in front of you... if you had more money than you could ever imagine, access to anything or anyone you wanted, if no one ever told you no and you had no one to keep you grounded... you’d probably get lost too. Think of how many child stars have flamed out, have lost themselves in subtances or had mental health crises or turned cruel and uncaring to the people around them or even their fans. It’s still a problem, to be sure, but the path from point A to point B is pretty clear. And I feel bad for those kids, who lost their way, who weren’t protected.

Social media has also had a huge impact on this stuff, of course. It’s so much easier for things to happen so much faster -- someone is nobody one day, and then the next day the world knows their name. It also means celebrities feel more accessible to their fans, and we often know a lot more about their personal or day-to-day lives. But sometimes fans can feel entitled to this information, or to the attention of the people they follow. It’s also easier for someone to say something offhand, without really thinking about it, and for that error to spread around the world in seconds. And you know as well as I do that internet culture is Not Great at accepting apologies or giving second chances. This also comes into play with how social media is almost a repository for all the dumb shit we said before we knew any better, and the internet loves digging up five year old mistakes that don’t represent someone now. I’m not excusing saying those kinds of things, and I don’t really have the patience to tease out the nuance of how “cancel culture” as a concept has been corrupted and twisted and used for a wild variety of things, but suffice to say there’s a lot of range between concepts like “I’m no longer buying work from an author because they turned out to be a ranging transphobe” and “anyone who likes this person’s music is terrible because the artist used a word they shouldn’t have five years ago when they were fourteen” and “this person got fired for discriminating against queer people” and “I’m not going to family Thanksgiving because none of my relatives are vaccinated and I have a heart condition.”

I’m starting to lose track of what I’m saying, so I’m going to wrap it up here. TL;DR is that Hank Green is super smart and has really unique insights into and experience with internet and celebrity culture, and I love seeing his takes on those concepts through this book. It’s a fantastic book, with complex and important ideas and themes but also a truly captivating story, and the story and the themes feed and nourish and grow each other so well. It’s just great.

I can’t wait to get started... but probably on Monday. I hope. Maybe Tuesday.

#annika reads #An Absolutely Remarkable Thing #Hank Green #book intro #bookshelf

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actual-changeling · 4 years ago

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Loveless

It is pride month y’all, which means for the next thirty days I cannot and will not shut up about being queer. This can be taken as a small vent, but is more of an experience mixed with emotions piece of writing.

If you’re allo-romantic, please take the time to read this and remember to specifically include aros in your pride posts and to focus less on love and more on community

Love.

I am so tired of that word. Of what it represents, what it implies. I hear and see it every day, over and over again, and my frustration and anger rise with every instance.

Love yourself, love romantically, love your friends, your family - find someone to love!

They conveniently leave out the “so it makes you less miserable” part, but, honestly, it doesn’t even need saying anymore, not for me. Love isn’t bad, not at all, but not having it, not experiencing it, doesn’t make you bad either.

The last few months, maybe even two or three years, I have though a lot about what it means to me. I discovered I’m aro, I had my first semi-experience with whatever people see as a romantic relationship, and for a little while, I existed in a good, blissful state of content and “love”.

Looking back, none of the feelings I had were actually love. I think I wanted them to be and tried to force myself and others into some semblance of a loving relationship. It didn’t work out, unsurprisingly so, and I am happy about that.

Without getting into it too deeply, a variety of different childhood traumata, on-going emotional and verbal abuse and a whole lot of weird shit in my brain, have deprived me of even knowing what love looks like when it is directed at you.

I have also realized that, for whatever reason, may it be cptsd, mental illness, neurodivergencies or simply the fact that I’m aro and a human being, I don’t love.

Sure, I love the sunset and my cat, I love my friends and the thought of maybe sharing my life with someone later on. I love the first cup of coffee on a cold winter morning and the feeling of watching a good show. I love a lot of things, but my love for any of them never actually feels like “love” at all. It feels shallow, like it lacks the depth it needs to count. It is not love, but I also don’t have better words to describe it, so I don’t.

The closest I come to explaining it is content, the warm, fuzzy feeling of peace and belonging that spreads throughout your chest and raises your lips into smiling. Some may say that’s love - but it’s not, not to me.

During pride month, love is seen as the most important thing. I feel alienated and forgotten, thrown under the bus because I’m the “wrong” kind of queer. I’m a freak, not real, a child playing pretend, a disgrace - short, something that is not and should not be part of the community.

I know all of those things are wrong, but that does not ease the pain in my chest anytime I see a pride post listing identities and it stops at ace, ending with “love is love” or “love more” or “love not hate”.

I don’t love and I am not a freak for not loving. I am not worthless and I DO deserve a place in this community and the respect everyone else gets without having to ask for it. Remember to include aros. Stop focusing on love when the most important thing is community.

#aromantic #actually aromantic #non sam aro #pride month #pride #loveless #alloaro #alex yells at the void #include aros or get your kneecaps stolen #trans #nonbinary #love #aro #aromantic experience #aro inclusion #aro discourse

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hellomynameisbisexual · 4 years ago

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5 Ways That Bi Erasure Hurts More Than Just Bisexual People

December 2, 2014 by Milo Todd

This year, Bisexual Awareness Day/Celebrate Bisexuality Day was on September 23rd.

That same day, the National LGBTQ Task Force thought it’d be a good idea to post an article entitled “Bye Bye Bi, Hello Queer,” in which leadership programs director Evangeline Weiss said “she is ready ‘to say bye bye to the word bisexuality.’

She said it does not describe her sexual orientation, and she encouraged readers to cease using the word as well as she felt it reinforced a binary concept of gender.

Let me drive that home a little more. The National LGBTQ Task Force not only thought it would be a good idea to publish an article insulting, misrepresenting, and forsaking the bisexual letter in their own name, but did so on Celebrate Bisexuality Day.

Rude.

And a fantastic example of the constant, ongoing erasure bisexual people have to deal with. This one just happened to be incredibly blatant.

What happened as a result of that article? People got pissed.

People got so pissed that the Task Force not only removed the article from their website, but posted in its place this non-apology (it keeps being referred to as an apology, but I’m not so easily pleased): “Having listened to a wide array of feedback on the timing and content, we recognize that this blog offended people. For this we sincerely apologize. It has been removed.”

In other words, “Sorry you got pissed off. Hopefully you’ll shut up if we take it down.” Which, as far as I can tell, isn’t much of an apology for a blatant disregard of an entire community of people.

Misunderstanding of the bisexual community has been the crux of biphobia’s history and the ongoing battle to erase bisexuality from the LGBTQIA+ community.

It’s a scary time to be bi, especially when your lesbian, gay, pansexual, and queer siblings and allies are calling for your blood simply because they’ve fallen victim to the mainstream agenda without realizing it. (Say what?! Jump to #5.)

It’s time for a change.

It’s time for all of us to properly understand one another and to — hope of hopes — become allies for our incredibly similar endeavors. To help initiate that friendship, I ask you, dear reader, to go through the following three steps.

Step 1: Look below. If I’ve played my cards right, virtually every reader should find at least one category with which they identify.

Step 2: Approach your designated section(s) with an open mind, an unprejudiced heart, and a desire to further enhance your own community/ies. It’s difficult for people to learn new things and see different views if they automatically approach them with resistance, which is often the case with bisexual topics.

Step 3: See how bi erasure hurts you as a person and, while you’re at it, likely hurts the people you care about. Because it really is happening.

So here are five ways in which bi erasure is hurting people of layered identities.

1. Female-Identified People and Feminists

Bisexuality is one of the only non-monosexual* identities currently recognized in the English-speaking world. If bisexuality is kept underground, it suppresses our limited, precious resources for open discussion about non-monosexuality. This hurts female-identified people and feminists regardless of their sexual orientation.

To this day, female-identified people can’t get a fair shake. Pay is unequal, birth control access is limited, and objectification is a daily thing. Non-monosexual women in particular are often not taken seriously because they’re seen as sluts, greedy, or unable to make up their minds.

Also, the general fetishizing of women is particularly intensified in the bisexual realm by (straight-identified) men, turning the very act of women’s sexual freedom, empowerment, and self-expression into nothing more than something for male gazes. (This is most often seen through the relentless prompts for female-female-male threesomes and masculine catcalls in bars when two femme-appearing women make out.)

By participating in or casually allowing bi erasure to happen, we’re ignoring the specific plights and abuses of bisexual women, thereby contributing to the ongoing problem of female inequality, objectification, and silence.

As feminists, we can’t pick and choose which women to fight for. The complexities of womanhood — and all of its cultural suppressions — are an all-or-none deal.

*Note: Non-monosexuality usually refers to someone who is interested in more than one sex or gender. (In other words, somebody who isn’t gay, lesbian, or straight.) Another way to say “non-monosexuality” would be “polysexuality” to help keep it from sounding negative.

2. Male-Identified People and Male Liberationists*

Just like with female-identified people and feminists, bi erasure hurts male-identified people and male liberationists regardless of their sexual orientation.

Allow me to make this pretty basic: Men continue to be fed the message that being gay is bad. Being gay means you’re not really a man, which means you lose your dude membership and the bulk of your male privilege. And since gayness equals the slightest shred of attraction to or intimacy with another male, all manners of bromance must be squashed.

In short, many guys live in a state of silent terror in this regard.

Bi men are afraid of being banished from the world of lady-loving, gay men are worried about losing all of their connections to hetero land, and nothing is worse for a straight man than being called a fag.

Constant monitoring, constant filtering, constant stress: Is this really the kind of world we guys want to keep living in?

By being able to talk about bisexuality — remember: one of our only non-monosexual identities — male-identified people can begin to break free from the masculine ideal.

Bi talk helps bridge the gap between being a man (straight) and not being a man (gay) and realizing, hey, having some manner of attraction to or intimate interaction with another guy is totally okay, masculinity unscathed.

Gay men can begin to regain their identities as men, bi men can finally start coming out, and “fag” will lose its strength as an insult from one straight man to another.

*Note: Male liberationists are more or less seen as allies to feminists and vice versa. Both will argue that patriarchy is bad, but while feminists talk of how it’s bad for females, male liberationists talk of how it’s bad for males. Examples include the inability to romantically or sexually love another male, the emasculation of men of color, and the physical, verbal, and mental abuse that comes from society’s expectations to be stereotypically masculine.

3. People Who Identify as Trans Sexual, Trans Gender, Genderfluid, Genderqueer, or Gender Non-Conforming

This one’s pretty easy. Some people on the trans spectrum identify as bisexual. But then they’re told they can’t or that it’s an insult to their trans siblings because bisexuality is believed to be trans-exclusive.

The problem with bi erasure is it adds to the ongoing problem of cis people — LGQ or not — telling trans people what to think. Cis people have a bad habit of thinking they need to speak for people on the trans spectrum even when trans people are quite capable of speaking for themselves. This is even more frustrating when it comes from a community supposedly meant to support them.

Despite the personhood for which they’re continuing to fight, trans people can receive backlash from the lesbian, gay, and queer communities as their identities and bodies are turned into political battlegrounds.

Sometimes, they’re used without consent by some cis individuals so that points can be made for non-trans-specific agendas, and sometimes they’re ironically used in the attempts for cis identities to help better the trans worlds.

For instance, automatically dismissing bisexuality as trans-exclusive and guilting any person on the trans spectrum that wants to identity as bisexual, if I may make so fine a point.

As blogger Aud Traher writes, “If you want to support trans people like me, don’t erase me or speak over me or cause me harm out of self-righteous biphobia. Look into yourself and deal with that internalized biphobia and then help others get over theirs. Don’t advocate for the destruction of a community in the name of ‘saving’ it. And, especially, don’t do it in my name.”

4. People Who Identify as Gay, Lesbian, or — Yes — Straight

Quite simply, it makes gays and lesbians (and straight people) look bad, too.

Bisexual people get a bad rap for apparently upholding the gender binary by saying they love only (cis) men or (cis) women, but isn’t that pretty much exactly what gays, lesbians, and straight people are saying when they identify as gay, lesbian, or straight? That they’ll only love either (cis) men or (cis) women?

But where’s their rampant backlash from the rest of the community for upholding the gender binary? I’m just sayin’.

Even when these groups extend their definitions to include trans people and people on the gender non-conforming spectrum, it’s often still as long as those trans people exhibit some manner of gender representation that falls into the lover’s category of desire.

Now, I’m honestly not trying to rag on gays, lesbians, or even straight people. They have as much right to identify how they want as anybody else. And there’s nothing wrong with feeling primarily attracted to only, say, cis or trans men if your brain simply tells you that you only like guys. That’s fine. Go ahead and do that. I’m not saying you can’t.

What I am saying is you can’t be spewing bi hate or letting bi erasure slide because 1) it’s incredibly one-sided and unfair, and 2) in the end, it’s making you look bad, too.

What do you think will happen if bi erasure is a success? You’ll be next, dears.

*cue Jaws theme*

5. People Who Identify as Queer, Pansexual, or Another Fellow Non-Monosexual

In late October, Lizzy the Lezzy — who I quite enjoy, by the way — shared a photo on her Facebook timeline explaining sexuality in terms of guests at a BBQ.

This would be all well and good if it didn’t include a glaring misconception about bisexual people, especially when compared to pansexuals. While bisexual people were defined as getting both hot dogs and hamburgers, pansexuals were defined as getting hot dogs, hamburgers, “and a salad.” Oops. What year is this again?

I’m going to make something very plain to you, dear reader: Bisexual people don’t just love (cis) men or (cis) women. That’s not how the ballpark definition goes. The “bi” in “bisexual” does not indicate a binary. Well, okay, it does indicate a binary, but probably not the one you think.

Instead of “bi” meaning a love for only cis men or cis women or otherwise putting men and women at two opposite ends of a spectrum, “bi” means a love for identities bisexual people identify with themselves and identities that they don’t.

Or, as the popular Robyn Ochs definition goes: “I call myself bisexual because I acknowledge that I have in myself the potential to be attracted – romantically and/or sexually – to people of more than one sex and/or gender, not necessarily at the same time, not necessarily in the same way, and not necessarily to the same degree.”

Look at that very closely. That’s still a binary. That’s still “bi.” And there isn’t a thing wrong with it, no exclusion to be seen.

When compared with the general concepts of pansexuals and queers, our orientations suddenly sound pretty darn similar: We love everyone.

Bisexual people get a bad rap for apparently being transphobic. While we’ve already seen a little bit in #3 as to why we aren’t, I want to further drive the point home here. A large portion of the transphobic accusations toward us come from the queer and pansexual communities, which in turn seem to derive from some serious misinformation and misdirection by the mainstream.

For the record, queers and pansexuals are cool. I like them. But the fact of the matter is that the misconception of the “bi” in “bisexual” as meaning an attraction to only (cis) men or (cis) women — and therefore upholding the gender binary — was created and imposed upon bisexual people by the mainstream. You know, the people that want the gender binary to stick around.

And some queers and pansexuals ate the propaganda they were fed? That’s terrifying. It starts to show just how large and sneaky the mainstream’s gender binary monster truly is.

By defining and erasing bisexuality on the grounds that it upholds the gender binary, pansexuals and queers are not only reinforcing the binary they so sorely wish to dismantle, but they are losing important focus on where the problem actually resides: the mainstream’s insistence to force the gender binary on non-mainstream groups such as bisexual people.

Further, holding bisexual people responsible for the abuse they’ve suffered is simply wrong. All that’s doing is blaming the victim. But, by recognizing and respecting bisexual people as they truly are, bisexual people can not only help dismantle the gender binary and put a new definition on the concept of the spectrum, but finally be allowed to team up with pansexuals and queers to crush mainstream abuse on non-mainstream identities.

Doesn’t that sound nice? I think it sounds nice.

TL;DR

Dear non-bisexual identities, please stop shooting yourselves in the foot and then wondering why you’re missing toes.

We’re here for the same reasons you are: for the right to love whoever we want and for the right for others to do the same.

So let’s finally be friends. We’re never going to get anything done if we keep spending our time putting each other down.

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shmisolo · 5 years ago

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For Anyone Looking for Not-Super-Angsty-Stuff

I’m compiling mine (or at least the less-angsty stuff) into one list for ya.

Seen ✔️✔️

His lock screen has three texts from Rey on it:

Rey Wife: Babe I know you’re probably busy right now, but you sent that pic to the wrong chat. Rey Wife: Bennnnnnn Rey Wife: Call me when you’re done processing your trauma.

And then about ninety chats from the Skywalker Ranch WhatsApp thread.

In which Ben sends a picture to the wrong chat.

The Sweater Curse

She’s never made a sweater before, but she saw the pattern on Ravelry and who cares if she’s only made (lumpy) hats before—she has to try it. She has to make it. She has to make it for Ben.

“You realize that Hannukah isn’t an important holiday, right?” Ben asks as she makes eye contact with him. His eyes are big and brown and—at this moment—mildly annoyed.

“Really? Is it a giant conspiracy theory? Part of the war on Christmas?”

“More than you realize,” Ben says and for the life of her she can’t tell if he’s joking. He does this thing sometimes that’s confusing—where he’ll say something that sounds mopey but is actually snarky and it disarms her every damn time. “In any event, ugly Hanukkah sweaters definitely aren’t a thing the way ugly Christmas sweaters are.”

“Well, they are now,” Rey says firmly. “I’m making you an ugly Hanukkah sweater. Deal with it. And stop moving.”

it's you and me (i know it's our destiny)

It’s just a kid’s game, he thinks when jealousy pangs in his heart. But it’s more than just a kid’s game.

It’s Pokémon.

It’s the only good thing in his life.

Shalom Rav!

In which Rey comes to terms realizing that she is attracted to the rabbi.

Apples and Honey

When Ben catches wind that his mother is planning to foist a potential girlfriend on him when he comes home for Rosh Hashanah, he takes matters into his own hands: specifically, he runs to Rey and asks her to pretend to be his girlfriend.

atlanta > all atlanta > community > missed connections

In which Rey meets a cosplayer at DragonCon.

Two to Tango

Rey: I need to ask you something awkward. Ben: What’s up? Rey: Can I give you a blowjob? Please?

Bang for your Buck

“We ready?” he asks her, sounding huffy.

“Nice to meet you Ben, I’m just familiarizing myself with your training,” she replies.

“Ok, well I don’t have all day.”

“No, you have,” she checks her watch, “another hour.” Because of course he’d booked an extra long session. Bless that sweet, sweet overtime pay.

“And you’re sure you know what you’re doing?” he asks her and she glances up at him, sure that her eyes are flashing because that’s fucking rude. She’s a professional. Amilyn wouldn’t have hired her if she didn’t know what she’s doing, and just because he apparently thinks he’s the center of the universe doesn’t change that fact.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your bang for your buck,” she tells him icily.

A Picture's Worth

reyjay: hiya your art is amazing

reyjay: it’s a big ask but could you draw me for my art final tomorrow? i’m shit at drawing people and i can’t fail this. can you help?

He stares.

And stares.

kyloren: is this some kind of a joke?

reyjay: no?? why??

kyloren: you’re asking me to help you cheat your exam, but you’re not even offering me money?

Forged

There are several reasons that Ben would never have dreamed he’d ever receive this text. The first is that he’d be invited to a Halloween party. The second is that he’d never in his life expected to be in a serious relationship, much less the sort of serious relationship where his partner would suggest matching Halloween costumes. And the last is that he is dating someone who’s show only and they’ve only almost murdered one another twice. Because he’s an A Song of Ice and Fire fan. He hates Game of Thrones.

(Not) Interested

We're bringing Speed Dating back to Space Battles Bonanza! Register online for one of our special Bonanza sessions of 15 three-minute dates so you’ll no longer have to look for love in a galaxy far far away. Choose from one of seven speed dating sessions, two of which are queer focused. If the Insurgents can blow up the Doom Moon in 11 minutes, let’s see if you can make a love connection in only three.

There’s a history of successful Speed Dating at Space Battles Bonanzas, with long-term couples, engagements and marriages now among the alumni.

In which Rey & Kylo meet at their fancon's speed dating.

do or do not (do the do)

In which Ben, in an effort to improve his stamina (look he's making progress, ok?) after reading some articles that he'll never be able to unread, receives some coaching (that he very much did not ask for).

(Very much did not ask for.)

A for...

Rey’s seeing double by the time there’s food on her plate. Oh. There’s food on her plate. That’s good. That’s unexpected at this point. “Eat,” Ben tells her.

So she does. It tastes good. Very good. She likes this food a lot.

“I’ll make sure she knows,” Ben says.

Oh she’s at that point of drunk where she’s just saying things out loud instead of keeping them in her internal monologue.

“You are,” Ben says, looking very amused.

She hopes she doesn’t say anything embarrassing.

“I promise, you haven’t yet, but oh boy, I’m looking forward to this.”

She shoves food into her mouth to keep herself from thinking out loud about his dick in her ass at his mother’s Passover seder.

The Love Committee

In which Rey, tired of her bad luck with dating apps and failed relationships, enlists her friends' help in determining who she should date next.

They take it a little too seriously.

💦💦💦💦

In which Ben accidentally implies that he gets his cardio from having sex on national television.

You, Me, and He

When they say that Kylo's brain is in his groin, they're not far from the truth.

Alternatively,

In which Kylo Ren is his own penis.

and beyond

“Please?”

For a moment, he thinks it will be like the first time, him begging, her crying and saying no and him not knowing how to protect his crushed heart.

But she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t say, “Please don’t go this way,” she doesn’t look horrified or disgusted. She just grabs him by the front of his shirt and tugs his lips down to hers before reaching down to cup his cock.

we decided not to kill the wolves (we wanted to be wolves)

A pack of wolves lives in the woods to the north of Raddus and as winter looms, they have their eyes set on Leia Organa’s stronghold. Rey may be new to Raddus, but she’s not about to do nothing while it may be in danger. And besides, Poe must be exaggerating about wolves the size of bears. She’s not afraid of monsters.

myosotis

Ben picked the flowers for their wedding.

The Kitchen

Rey and Ben, hunting for their first house.

Investiture

In which Ben goes to daven for his father’s yahrtzeit and manages to prove to himself once again that he is both a terrible person and a terrible Jew.

Oh and he sort of falls in love.

The Sweetest Thing

A post-coital trip to Waffle House.

with you i shall play

And when it's dry and ready, then Ben's dick Rey shall play.

Everything to Prove

“The show,” he says. “It’s probably best if they don’t—if we don’t—”

And Rey follows his line of thought at once. For all the program is one that doesn’t seem melodramatic—the height of drama in previous seasons came from someone’s cake falling over and that was about it—she does not doubt that the producers and cameramen would leap at the opportunity to make there be something out of nothing in their relationship—especially if there was something out of something.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Yeah, probably. We can pick baking stations that are…” but she doesn’t want to complete the thought. She likes baking next to Ben.

“Or we can just be careful?” he suggests, sounding quite as pained by the prospect as Rey feels.

“Yeah, careful. I can do careful,” Rey says at once and her lips are on his again and he’s laughing now, and she’s laughing, and she didn’t think laughter would be part of all this. She didn’t think it could be. But here she is, laughing and kissing and holding a man who, at some point, she’s going to want to beat.

She does her best not to think of that now.

It’s a friendly competition, after all.

It’s not life and death.

It’s baking.

Brightblades

In which Rey learns about a startling kink of her new boyfriend, and in which, much later, they roleplay it.

The Knotting Shop

Ben realizes upon entering the shop that he had gotten the complete wrong impression from the name of it.

What the fuck sort of shop calls itself The Knotting Shop if it’s not about, well, knotting?

The answer, apparently, is a knitter with a sense of humor. An Omega, by the scent that seems to have landed in every colorful ball of yarn in the shop and which hits him right in the groin.

Let Go (Never Let Me Go)

In which Rey swipes right on Ben, 35. Probably too much of an asshole for you, but my therapist is trying to convince me that assholes deserve love too, so here’s me on Tinder, and it does not proceed as she expects.

crossfade (cursed and blessed)

The Talmud states that on Purim one is to drink to the point of not knowing the difference between “cursed is Haman” and “blessed is Mordechai.” In other words, you’re supposed to get so blitzed you can’t tell your friends from your enemies. Rey and Ben might be taking this a little too literally at Leia’s annual Purim Party.

Kind Stranger

Ben stares at the text for a minute before opening up his computer and typing “+7793 area code” into his web search. Jakku. Of course he wouldn’t have recognized it. He confessed himself surprised to know that Jakku even had an area code. Did people still live in Jakku?

#kylothekiller

It’s not the first time that Rey has seen Kylo pop up in her Fido stream, but it is the first time she’s clicked on him fast enough to be scheduled for a meet and greet with dog and owner on Saturday.

All Bets Are Off

“Fake girlfriend. What does that even mean?” Ben asks her.

Rey rests a hand on his arm, feeling the muscles underneath his sleeve. “Babe,” she says, leaning close to him. “It means we pretend we’re madly in love. Think you can pull that off for your office pool?” Ben’s eyes flicker softly between each of hers and he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fic

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goldenpinof · 5 years ago

Text

so basically here’s a script of “Basically I’m gay” by Daniel Howell, if someone needs it

link to a google doc

Hello Internet.

«Sex! Secrecy! And a whole lot of internal screaming. Starring Daniel Howell. One of the greatest mysteries of our generation. What is Dan’s sexuality?»

Spoiler alert. I’m not straight. Sex, the foundation of life and the only thing we’re really supposed to do. Everyone’s obsessed with it. You bunch of degenerates. In the list of things that identify a person, one of the most important for other people to know is their sexuality. For, if sex is the primal force propelling all of these humans forward by their hips, they have to know. Are we gonna fuck? Or like could we? Or are you, ‘cause I’m just wondering. Now, we live in a heteronormative world, which is a long scary word that makes people feel attacked for some reason. Shh it’s okay.

What it means is people are presumed to be straight. If you’re not, then at some point, you have to “come out”, which is a whole thing. Or people might just try and guess based on something you do or the way you act, because yay stereotypes. So this is something you have to be clear on, because if you’re not, how are all these other people that aren’t you going to cope? But I’m pretty sure no one that knows me thinks I’m straight. So I don’t really need to come out as much as just clarify what the hell is going on. As here I am at age 27 and my sexual preference is seemingly still a vague, debatable, confusing, impenetrable mystery. But why? And what is it? Well, those are some big questions. Are you sure you wanna know my answers?

[YES]

Okay, well, if you say so 'cause this is a complicated and sensitive issue and when it comes to me, boy, there is a lot to unpack here and it is a total clusterfuck. So strap yourselves in and let me tell you a queer little story about a boy named Dan.

Chapter 1 – The Word

♪ When I was a young boy ♪

♪ My father ♪

Didn’t have much time for me because my conception was clearly an accident and he was a narcissistic proud man suddenly inconvenienced in the prime of his life and this emotional neglect gave me lasting problems.

Sorry that’s not all relevant right now.

I was an only child for seven years and with working parents. This meant I had to make my own fun so I was imaginative and loud which is something that my teachers used to say quite a lot followed by, “However.” Here I am age five. Look at me. Cute, poised, sassy, turning out this photo shoot like sorry, Grandma, I stunted on this set. Are you seeing this? In almost every way, I literally peaked age five. I loved being the center of attention. People said I had an infectious happiness, that my beaming smile brought them hope and joy. People that know me are laughing right now. But a boy, in the '90s being happy and generally polite acting? Sounds kinda GAY if you ask me. Literally, masculinity was so fragile, people were so proud and scared and society so aggressive that a boy smiling!?.. appearing to be empathetic or in any way emoting was seen as a threat. How dare they laugh and feel comfortable? They must be soft and weak and girly and GAY. So basically thanks, Grandma, for raising me to be a nice child, you dick. Just kidding. That’s a joke and I told you not to watch this video because it would be rude so if you send me a disappointed text telling me you’re offended, I don’t know what to tell you. Although, now I think about it, you did make me go to church for 10 years, which in hindsight probably also didn’t help ♪ Hallelujah ♪ the issue here so. But then it was time for little Dan to go to school and this is when it

♪ All went wrong ♪

'Cause it turns out most children, evil pieces of shit. Doesn’t matter if you try to raise a happy innocent child, throw that kid into school, aka, a literal Mad Max Battle Royale with the feral offspring of your local community. Yeah, that crap’ll be undone in about two weeks. I was six years old running around the playground pretending to be Sonic the Hedgehog or something when two brothers come up to me aged seven and eight with an unexplained aggressive look in their eye. And the younger one pushes me to the ground, kicks me in the stomach, and just says, “GAY.”

This was the first time I ever heard that word. Well, I don’t know what the heck gay means but apparently it means people kick you on the floor so that ain’t good. I didn’t know this child or give them any cause to have an opinion on me. And, actually, I never directly interacted with them again. What epic clustershit of failed parenting and general culture brought this tiny child to get angry and attack someone, then call them gay for looking like they were having fun outside. Are you okay, 1990s? And so my relationship with sexuality began.

I wasn’t looking to define myself as a child indiscriminately playing doctors and nurses with various friends until once somebody’s mum walked into a room to find three fully naked children sat on a bed sticking sellotape to each other’s butts. Yep, which I don’t recommend. Also, Jesus Christ, the poor woman that saw that. Then you get to the magic age around 10 or 11 where everybody suddenly wants to pretend they’re totally a “cool teenager” who’s doing all the drugs and the sex and the fights, totally. Boy, gay was a really popular word back then.

[[Boy] Uh, homework is gay. [Girl] Uh, my mum’s so gay. [Boy] Uh, you touched a girl, gay.]

This one little shit who I won’t name was one of the school bullies and he loved the word gay. He had it in for me and I have no idea why. You know me, Mr. Winnie the Pooh Meets Slender Man. Well, when I was 10 just Winnie the Pooh. I didn’t do nothin’ to no one ever and yet this guy used my pacifism as a punching bag where any group situation was an excuse to single me out call me gay for some reason and then make everyone else exclude me because they were scared of him. I had a girlfriend. We dated for six whole weeks. We kissed in a game of spin the bottle once by literally sucking on each other’s faces. Then she ended dumping me over speakerphone at a birthday party that everyone in my class but me was invited to but, hey. I don’t know what I was doing wrong, but at this age, I understood one thing. Being gay, whatever that meant, was clearly the worst thing you could be. On a Darwinian level, I was being told, okay bitch, “Survival Code”. Don’t be this apparently. Evolution. Plot twist, this bully I think he was a bit gay because once he asked me to have a sleepover at his house and I thought was me finally getting socially accepted only for him in the middle of the night to come up and ask me, “So who’s going to be the boy and the girl?” I was an innocent smol bean who didn’t really understand what he meant because, to be honest, I didn’t actually understand get how babies were made yet. But needless to say I think he was disappointed. Wow, closeted child turns into homophobic bully. Thanks again society. But this whole primary school journey was really just an amuse-bouche for the full six-course tasting menu of suffering that would be secondary school.

I went to an all-boys school. It was a literal hellscape. I thought it was hard making it through a school of 200 kids with two or three bullies. Try over a thousand where a clean 800 are fully psychopathic gorillas fueled by testosterone, Red Bull, and Eminem albums. Making sure that the word f- no longer means an innocent bundle of sticks or a cigarette anymore in the British lexicon. Nope, now it was a cool homophobic slur along with gay, gaylord, gayboy, puff, pufter, ponce, batty, batty boy, bum-boy, bender. Shit, this is so long. People have a lot of words for something they don’t wanna think about. Look at me in this stupid blazer. Oh, “you’ll grow into it at some point in the next four years”. Thanks, Mum. Day one, kid in form class, some stupid hedgehog-looking motherfucker side eyes me and says, “What you lookin at, puff?” First interaction at a new school. Great! My entire existence on a daily basis then becomes navigating this school like I’m in the bloody “Maze Runner” trying to avoid aggressive pricks with chode ties. And you know being verbally abused for being a nerd or a Greebo at least felt relevant to me at the time. Greebo, definitely one of my faves there and I’m sure that Korn and Slipknot would have been proud to have 12-year-old me as a fan. I kinda knew who I was in the hierarchy at that point. I was essentially a theater kid who spent all of his free time playing Runescape on the AOL browser on his mum’s PC instead of football. I accepted it. But at least I wasn’t actually this “gay thing” people kept throwing around because by now I understood a gay is a boy who fancies other boys. And to be honest I don’t really feel like I’ve ever fancied anyone before.

Then puberty happened.

Oh yeah, this is fun, tingly feelings, I smell bad. It was quite fun dribbling on this girl’s face playing Truth or Dare, maybe later we’ll go behind that bike sheds and, there I was sat in English class, my friend next to me. I watched as he delicately removes a pencil from its case. We briefly make eye contact as he flutters his long black eyelashes with a blink before staring forward. His eyes are so bright and beautiful yet they seem so sad and deep with emotion. I wish I could just understand. Oh fuck, I think I’m a bit gay. You’re telling me this whole time I actually have been the bad thing that people keep calling me? Shit!

Chapter 2 – Feelings

Oh do you hear it that faint hum, something coming from a deep, dark place too powerful to control? It’s the self-hatred. She is here and she’s only getting started. Short version, I fall hopelessly in love with a friend of mine who doesn’t feel the same way which crushes me into a million tiny pieces and years later actually it turns out he was gay the whole time. He just really specifically didn’t like me. [Double kill.] Here I am, 13, crying to evanescence alone in my bedroom feeling like there’s no point in really being alive as I’m clearly a faulty outcast person that has no place in the world. I stopped going to church with my grandma because I felt like I wasn’t really supposed to be there. Also, by this age, the whole Christianity thing didn’t really make much sense to me. And the adult services were dry AF compared to coloring in a picture of Jesus’s face at Sunday school. So other than the free tea and biscuits they gave away after the sermon, religion didn’t really have much to offer me. Damn, there was some good biscuits though. I miss that. But wait! All is not lost yet. Do you see that? A triumphant, rallying cry of guitars, stripey hoodies, and black hair dye. Emo had arrived! I swear to God, emo is one of the best things that happened to pop culture in the last 20 years. As well as inventing eyeliner and skinny jeans, a new word hit the theater, nerd, goth, band, kid corner that would change my world forever.

Bisexual. You can be normal and gay at the same time and some people think it’s cool? Well, slap a long fingerless glove on my arm and sign me up to Myspace 'cause Mum, I’m bi. It was a good term 'cause it was a catchall for anyone who felt sexually confused or curious that didn’t want to commit to something stronger which is very me. Big commitment issues. Thanks, fam. To be clear, regardless of whatever the 2006 teenagers thoughts and feelings were, being bi is valid and should not be excused away or erased by anyone. Thank you.

From this moment, I was a loud and proud raving bi to my close friends and the strangers on the internet who saw my clearly-labeled sexual preference on my Myspace page. And the emo friends I made at this time were awesome. We just used to hang and make out with each other and listen to music and drink bottles of Smirnoff Ice until we were sick on each other with no judgment. The judgment came several years later looking back at the photos that you can’t delete. So I didn’t need to tell my family or people at school anything. But the thing is with a Myspace page, anyone with an internet connection can read it. And so the rumors started spreading through my neighborhood that Dan Howell was in fact a bisexual. I had a friend in French class who one day, totally unprompted, just turned to me and said, “Hmm, yeah, I thought so. You give off a bi-vibe.” A bi-vi-, what the fuck is a bi-vibe? Great, yeah, nothing to make a 15-year-old feel self-conscious about his behavior like being told he emanates a bisexual aura. What am I supposed to do with that? Sorry that I give off mixed signals. I’m versatile. Turns out it was actually a social upgrade from being called gay all the time 'cause bisexual was a new word that only referred to sexuality so people actually had to decide how they felt about the fact I was attracted to boys. As opposed to gay which as we all understand is synonymous with bad and also implies a general threat, plague, curse/evil force that simply must be destroyed. People at school were actually almost nice to me with curiosity about it and a few of the boys that previously loved to just generically call me gay while throwing a compasses at me or something, now started to low-key flirt with me and some stuff happened. Go figure.

But then I entered the dark ages and no I’m not talking about my hair because I was never actually cool enough to commit to dying it black. As quickly as they arrived into my life, my emo friend group vanished into the night. Like the tip of an eyeliner pencil snapping or the HTML on your intricately-crafted MySpace page falling apart when the host websites of your embedded gifs die, so, too, did my social life. One had to suddenly focus on school, another moved town, two of them just fell out with each other and started hanging out with their old friends again. Well, we don’t all have back up friend groups, Lindsey! I went all in on the emos! You’re telling me I have to go back to sitting in my kitchen playing Runescape now! Thanks a lot. So for a year I literally had no friends. And this is when the bullying at school really stepped its pussy up. The things people used to say offhand to me in a corridor were now said loudly in classrooms where everybody would laugh. People used to sing songs about me being gay on the bus while my fellow nerds sat around me just stared awkwardly out of the window not wanting to get involved. People shouted things out during GCSE exams in front of the whole school and the low key pushing became punches. People used to wait for me after school just to throw things at me. Once a guy put his hand around my throat and pushed my head against a coat peg in the locker room while everyone was watching and just slapped me for five minutes. But I never reacted. I never cried or got angry or fought back 'cause then I’d be giving them what they wanted and I refused to play along. But this way of dealing with things definitely had an impact on my relationship with emotion going into life. I became a total outcast. No one wanted to come near me out of fear that they’d get targeted, too. So no one ever stood up for me. And, you know, I don’t blame them. I just resent them even to this day. No, I’m kidding, I don’t really. I do. No, I don’t. I, hmm. Teachers at the time obviously did nothing. In fact, one of them saw this happening to me and laughed 'cause you know, boys will be boys especially the gay ones that get killed by the other ones, am I right? Ah, classic lad banter. And home. See, keeping this on the topic of sexuality and not economic class, violence, addiction, and health issues, let’s just say some shit was goin’ down. I didn’t think I could ask my family for help or share my feelings about this, mainly due to my dad. Funny guy, kind of a woke hippie who did and said a lot of things I did respect but at the same time used to walk around the house saying how he hoped someone he had a problem with at work would *clears throat* “die of bum cancer.” Yep, so picked the one area to be a bigot that would further traumatize your child. Nice! This experience coming from a childhood hearing the word gay meaninglessly thrown around as an insult at home and school, in music, on TV, to then realizing I am actually kinda gay, to then very specifically being attacked for it was traumatic. The world was clearly telling me if I ever wanted to be accepted by anyone or, in my particular environment, survive, I couldn’t be gay. I was afraid of it, literally homophobic of myself. I am talking Pavlov, sunken place, North Korea-level mind alteration that made me terrified of and repulsed by this part of me. This is called internalized oppression. It’s a real thing and it’s some real shit.

Chapter 3 – Internalized Oppression

From this moment I was no longer advertising myself as bi. No, BRB deleting that Myspace real quick, xD lemme get on that Bebo. “My Chemical Romance”? No, I’m listen to what’s this, N-Dubz? Jesus Christ. I go away for the summer break and come back to school quiet and serious and fully straight. *coughs* I needed me some new friends that were a bit higher up the social ladder, you know what I’m sayin’ for security so I go ahead and join “The Inbetweeners”. Literally this group of friends, the exact middle ground between nerds and desperately wanting to be cool. And oh how desperate we were. The great thing about these friends was they knew loads of girls. So firstly, instant cool points. Secondly, if I date a girl *scoffs* super not gay. The problem with that was it’s not like everyone just forgot everything that’s been said about me and this group of friends, casually homophobic pretty much all the time and also they hung out in places near some even more aggressive and super homophobic peeps. Just full-time Runescape would have been a better in hindsight. I find myself going through the same shit at school but now voluntarily going through it at the weekends from the people that are supposed to be my friends thinking I’m doing the right thing whilst constantly telling myself I’m now totally heterosexual. So I did what many people choose to do at that point and I got a girlfriend. But this is pretty messed up because I really liked this girl. In fact, I loved her as a friend and I was genuinely attracted to her but I was so afraid of sexuality I didn’t even wanna do anything straight in case I had some weird gay panic that I was totally frigid and I led her on. And when she got pissed at me, understandably, for being a terrible boyfriend, I just felt even worse. This was someone who I liked that I was hurting and lying to but I couldn’t leave as then I’d have no armor. Beautiful irony here is having a girlfriend didn’t in any way stop the abuse 'cause remember, gay is a great all-purpose general insult. (Call someone gay today and we’ll throw in a free set of steak knives.) And when these neighborhood teens started heavy drinking and getting into drugs, things suddenly got quite scary as people joked about setting fire to a tent as I slept in it at Reading Festival. Or saying, “You know that notoriously unstable guy? Yeah, he said he’s gonna kill you next Saturday.” Awkward.

This was definitely the lowest point in my life. I just felt totally alone, confused and I deeply hated myself. I used to ask God, in case he was there, to please, just make me straight and everyone stop. But I saw no end, no escape, no way to change the world or who I was. So one evening I thought fuck it and I attempted suicide.

I say attempted, because just before it was too late I thought

“oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit what have i done what have i done fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck?”

“what will your grandma think don’t do this to her she tried her best and she loves you”

“your family aren’t total dicks and this will fuck them up can’t you just get over it surely”

“you’re gonna get to the last year of school and give up now really what was the point”

“I heard this is one of the most painful ways to die so not a great choice if I’m being blunt”

Felt kinda bad for a few days otherwise I pretended it never happened and I didn’t tell anyone, until now, literally. Hmm, I know pretty dark right, but hey spoiler things kinda worked out. I mean still gotta lot of issues but here I am. I’m so glad I failed for so many reasons, for the people in my life, for the future I would’ve wasted. The most important being that I thought I was trapped in a situation forever when in reality, the entire world I lived in and my life changed completely. I thought it was hopeless when in reality there was so much to hope for and that’s it. Time changes everything. With the lives that we have, we can try anything we’ve dreamed of. I want anyone that’s ever felt like this to realize you are never trapped. There is always hope. You just need to believe in yourself and get to the other side. So yeah school age 6 to 18, I’m gonna give that a bad Google review. The thing is I did stand out. I’ve always been a loudmouth, class clown, annoying shit. Since graduating, it turns out half the people I knew were fuckin’ gay. That group of friends I had, all lovely people now. Five of them were gay, five gays! That is statistically irregular. Oh but they flew under the radar. All I’m saying is I wish people just hated me for being annoying and immature. Leave the gays alone!

My light at the end of the tunnel was university. I was gonna get my A levels move to a new town and ghost these bitches. But I took a gap year first to earn some money which was very boring sitting at home and working at ASDA where I was not happy to help. My shift started at 5 a.m. on a Saturday. Signed up for a Twitter account to run my mouth off and then bam. “So my name is [Dan].” My YouTube story begins, a new chapter of my life to redefine. So you know what I do? Get a Formspring because nothing gives you that attention feeling like one of those anonymous question and answer websites that are inherently toxic and no one should use. And straight out of the bat bisexual Dan returns. 'Cause hey, just like Myspace, I’m only telling a few people on the internet right now. It’s not like one day I’m gonna get so many followers that random strangers and my family might see it. Wow, I had a lot fun with many different kinds of people in 2009. Let’s just say I got a lot out of my system. Got a couple of things in my system, too. Sorry.

And this is when, through the magic of the internet, I met Phil. And obviously we were more than friends but it was more than just romantic. This is someone that genuinely liked me. I trusted them. And for the first time since I was a tiny child, I actually felt safe. And the relationship we formed at that point was something that I needed in my life. We are real best friends, companions through life, like actual soulmates, not that souls are a real thing that exist. It’s so lucky to just find someone you can be that compatible with and especially to anyone that has experienced the kind of self-hatred that I have dealt with, one person accepting you can make all the difference. And I bet so many people wanna know so much more about that which, honestly, I take as a compliment. But here’s the thing. I’m somebody that wants to keep the details of my personal life private. So is Phil. I know lots of people these days, thanks to social media, want to share and monetize every aspect of their life and then as soon as something changes suddenly it’s this huge drama because everybody got invested in the story of your life like it’s a soap opera. I don’t want that. I wanna do certain things without an audience. I wanna be spontaneous. I don’t wanna feel afraid to take risks. I want to enjoy totally fucking something up and not have to post a statement about it. And if anyone thinks people really have to share these things about their life, you need to rethink your position. And look, I understand that sex is a fun and interesting thing to talk about. I get it. I am also a disgusting pervert. But the specific minutiae of who I be fuckin’, when, why, where, how long, how, uhh, I mean? Sexuality is a general fact that it can be very useful to know about a person for several reasons, but we can’t force people to disclose that either. We don’t know this person’s life story, what they’ve been through, if they haven’t told people, if they’ll lose their job, if they’re in danger. There are so many reasons someone might not be open about it. We can preach the message that being out is good, but aggressively speculating or trying to out someone is really bad. They might not be gay, in which case we’re just harassing someone and probably stereotyping. And if they are there’s gonna be a reason why they haven’t talked about it. So I don’t wanna see any responses to me finally talking about this like no one is surprised. “Dan we been knew.” Wow, you huge galaxy brain genius. What’s it like walking around with all those brain cells in there working overtime? What, you got like three in there? Don’t lose your balance, mastermind. I haven’t exactly been subtle have I? I’m an awkward, sexually ambiguous nerd. “What the fuck even is your sexuality?” That’s not the point. I’m already dead inside so it doesn’t matter here, but to me if someone’s reaction to a person coming out is just, “yeah, I knew”, they’re showing no empathy towards the issue or that person. They’re just making it about themselves like it was a fun piece of gossip they already knew. All we have to do is listen and be accepting.

So anyway back to the tale. Whilst things were looking up for Dan aged 18, things quickly got messy again. Wow, that beats the emo streak of temporary self-acceptance by like six months, nice. There was a point around 2011 where the relationship with my audience shifted from what felt like direct communication between me and individuals that just saw me as a comedy creator to communities of people that formed to talk about me when I wasn’t there. Which is fine, but for some people it was about getting generally invested in me and my real life which I thought was a bit strange 'cause inevitably like anyone who puts themself out there, some people started to really dig into my private life to find out information about me that I wasn’t ready to share. And this was around the same time that YouTubers finally started to get mainstream recognition in the British press. We had the BBC knocking at our door trying to offer Dan and Phil a radio show. From that, Dan and Phil became this entertainment duo that we could have a creative career with. And we love working together, so when all these opportunities came for Dan and Phil, we were really excited but I was also scared as people clearly knew I wasn’t straight and I hadn’t told my family that. None of my old friends knew about this, and what me and Phil had was ours and personal and yet some people were trying to get access to it for their own satisfaction. It was no longer a few people on the internet, no big deal. So I just shut down. It felt like I was back at school again, surrounded by threatening people trying to expose me for their entertainment. Most I’m sure just wanted what was best for me and I feel such genuine sadness and am sorry that I couldn’t be closer to and more truthful with the people in my life that were just trying to be nice but I wasn’t ready to deal with it at this time so I had to do something to contain it. I definitely sent some mixed messages. Some were just joking around, others were super defensive that in my panic came across like “I’m now telling everyone I’m totally straight” when all I really meant was “please fuck off and don’t invade my privacy, you creepy stalkers, thank you”. But this experience seriously triggered some PTSD in me and I was back in the dark place. I didn’t want to just disappear from the internet to escape it and throw away this creative hobby that actually started paying rent. Thanks. So I just decided to put anything to do with my sexuality in a box to come back to later as I was still processing my past and I wanted to understand my identity on my own terms and timeline and not just have it hijacked as fuel for people’s sexual fantasies or some headline in an article. And whilst we’re not exactly living in a utopia yet here on YouTube, the general internet culture only five or six years ago was a much less wholesome, progressive place as this little bubble is now. Sure, a lot of people probably would have been supportive, but there was just as much open bigotry and general toxicity 'cause people felt less accountable and it was okay to say certain things 'cause it’s just on the internet and I couldn’t handle that at the time. And, generally, I can handle a lot. I have big hands with a very wide reach for playing piano, you fucking.. get your mind out of the gutter. We can’t ask people to just put their lives on hold to address their sexuality first. If a kid dreams of being a footballer and age 18 gets signed to a club and all their dreams come true but they’re scared to come out because of the insane homophobia in that community, they shouldn’t turn it down. Yes, it’s so important to be truthful about who you are and open and proud in front of the world but it’s our society’s fault that these people are scared to say who they are. So let’s all focus on making it a welcoming place and people will come out when they are ready. So when was I ready? Well, it’s always been on my mind that I need to talk about this at some point. I couldn’t just keep going forward in my life ignoring it, not only just so I can be authentic, which is very important for general existing, but also just letting people know what kind of sexual attention I want from the world. All of it from everyone. God I’m so thirsty. And if anything motivated me, it’s the idea that I can help someone else 'cause that’s basically my whole career, isn’t it, admitting to shit that I’ve been through so you will feel better about yourselves. There we go, you’re welcome. I have a platform and a following of millions of people, many of whom I know have been through exactly what I have. And if I tell my story as painful and flip floppy and flawed as it is, I know it will mean something to someone as every time someone speaks openly about sexuality, it saves lives. I’d never met a single out gay person until I was 18. And if I had, or even just seen better representation in the media, I wouldn’t have felt so totally alone. I wouldn’t even be saying this to you now if it wasn’t for TV shows, musicians, and public figures in the last couple years reinforcing this to me. It doesn’t matter if I was living the life privately as there was still so much confusion about my feelings and fear. But things are better now, on the internet, on TV, in my real life. It’s not perfect but it feels safe enough in this space right now for me to feel confident. So thank you, sincerely, to all the brave people that came before me and to any of you that made this world seem welcoming for me. And instead of procrastinating from this by focusing on work, which was a way for me to insure my own independence and survival in case I was rejected, or just doing things for other people to take my mind off it instead of asserting my own needs, which my therapist keeps telling me is one of my biggest problems. Here I am with a fresh void of time in front of me to fuck up however I want. Now look, we all have different experiences in life. Some of us are lucky, some of us not. It just so happened that the first 18 years of my life were horrendously shit. It failed me. But we get dealt cards from the start, too. If you look at my life, I was born into this world as an able-bodied, white, cis-man in Britain which immediately gives me so much privilege in this current world and I am fully aware of how much harder making it to today could have been for me, which is why we all need to stand up for equality and social justice even if it doesn’t apply to us. No one stood up for me when it mattered the most and that almost cost me everything. So if you see a woman being harassed, a gay being threatened, someone muttering something racist, say something, do something because if you’re still or silent, the victim will just think that you are against them, too. We all have a responsibility.

This tale was just some of the stuff relating to sexuality. We all have a whole sob story if we wanna tell it but I just wanted to explain the journey of how I got to this point and overcame the obstacles that tried to block this path. And now I’ve arrived.

Chapter 4 – Labels

Okay cool story, bro, it’s answer time. What’s your answer. Whaddayalikedafuk? Here’s the thing, you want me to talk candidly about sexuality as if it’s something that I understand? I don’t know what it is, why it is. Turns out no one knows. I’ve been sitting here for years waiting for scientists to just work it out like bleep bloop. [Oh this is why and exactly how it’s different for people. There we go.] Thinking I shouldn’t run off my mouth on the internet in case my theories and opinions on varying gayness get debunked next week. Well, I waited long enough and it didn’t happen. Science, ya fucked up, you let me down. And I fully expect to have to delete this video in two weeks when you find out all the answers suddenly. Thanks a bunch. What makes someone gay or straight or all the things in between? What the ever loving fuck is gender about? This is a mess. Yet people want you to give them a word because that’s how humans communicate with words that have meanings. Which is why our disgusting species is impatient, stupid, and obsessed with labels. And this applies to everything, sexuality, gender, political identity, what obscure genre of synthwave you listen to. People just want a label that represents something they understand so they already know how to feel about you and don’t have to bother thinking. [Oh you’re a feminist well I don’t need to know anything more. Oh you’re a leftist. Oh you’re a K-pop fan but but but but.] If people just want to find a way to disagree with you or dislike you, they can refer to the label and turn off their brains. Hey, what does my label say? Huh. The issue is, especially when we start talking about the writhing mass of confusion and suffering that is sexual and gender identity, the limits of language and specific terminology become a big problem. What does being gay mean? You never thought about a boob once? What does being a man mean? You wanna be an emotionless rock rubbing raw steaks against your biceps? It’s not like humanity is all in agreement right now. I don’t like the stereotypes and drama that come with all this terminology so I’m just not gonna use it. Thing is gender identity isn’t my issue. I feel comfortable with the identity that I’ve had my whole life. Dan, a tol boy from England. But being a man means nothing to me. I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable wearing makeup or a sickening pair of heels, though I can’t even draw in a straight line so that would be a disaster. Also is anyone really comfortable wearing heels? Hmm. Icons of masculinity aren’t really a big part of my life. Might as well call me a fucking formless blob that sounds more relatable. Shout out to all my formless blobs out there, rise up. I don’t have to do anything or be anything and I personally wouldn’t feel offended if I wasn’t referred to as a he. Well, she’s feeling hungry today. Stop fucking judging me, Susan. I’m sad and I’m gonna eat this whole damn cake whether you like it or not. But anyone that has this don’t really care attitude about their gender identity is in a way privileged 'cause some people, especially trans, care a lot about their gender identity and using the correct pronouns which other people should respect. Likewise with sexuality, whilst to me the endlessly increasing list of tribes and flags being flown is a bit daunting and confusing and personally stresses me out 'cause I almost find it constrictive, some people like it. Because if you’re feelings are confusing and then you look at a word that represents something and go, “wow, that me”, it can help you realize you’re valid and find a community and that’s great. There is so much controversy around this issue and others but if we all just calm down, respect each other’s experiences and try to just be nice, reasonable people, which is a lot to ask, let’s be real, it’s quite simple. If you wanna use language to express your honest feelings and identity, that’s great and other people should respect what you say. Likewise, if you hate labels and you just wanna be a formless blob, that’s fine, too. No one should force you. The only thing that isn’t cool is telling other people what they should or should not identify as 'cause that ain’t your problem or your business, bye. This was one of the things that held me back from talking about this for years. Shit’s confusing, man. Let’s just go back to cellular reproduction by mitosis so I don’t really have to be specific. Two people that I really look up to and respect, Harry Styles and Janelle Monae, both famously say that they don’t feel the need to label it which, to be honest, is how I feel and is perfectly okay. But I get it, for me, you want a word. Oh, that’s hard, though. I’m an annoying guy. I feel uncertain specifying my sexuality in the same way I wouldn’t say I am an atheist. Who the fuck am I to say whether God does or doesn’t exist? I don’t know shit 'bout shit and neither does anyone else. I mean I think it’s unlikely in the same way I know I like DICK. But I’m not gonna pretend to have a definite answer here. Looking at my public statements is inconsistent and confusing. Looking at my personal track record through life is super confusing. And looking at the void inside my soul threatening to crush the entire universe with the force of its event horizon of misery and melodrama, well, fuck let’s close that shit up. One thing’s for sure whatever heterosexual is, I ain’t it. Really if you ask me, I don’t think anyone’s totally straight. I think there’s a lot of social and emotional issues getting in the way of yet to be understood feelings of attraction that can be very flexible. And trust me, I’ve known a lot of straight guys until a couple of drinks, some deep conversation, and lingering eye contact, and suddenly they just start leaning in. What does that make them? And am I totally gay? No. Am I slightly more gay or is it just easier for gays to hook up with each other because of societal norms. It’s not like the signs for male and female bathrooms are what I’m attracted to. I don’t care what flesh organ you have between your legs, what your hair’s like, if you’re covered in it or a fuckin’ beluga whale. I’m gonna be honest, I’m not picky. I’m easy. So am I bi or pan or poly? Well, now we’re just in a clusterfuck of defining language and I’m confused and sad and horny. This is why I personally love the word queer. I understand that some people don’t as it is a slur but as someone that’s been the target of it several times throughout my life I’m up for some reclamation. It’s like recycling. The definition makes sense because until society is equal with all sexual and gender identifies, it is literally strange from a conventional viewpoint plus it’s better than a super long acronym, it’s inclusive of everyone and therefore great for formless blobs. There we go, an identity I feel comfortable with. A highly-strung, depressed queer praying for a giant meteor to hurry up and finally eradicate humanity. LMAO, yeet!

But to come full circle, I know that even today, deep in my heart the word gay scares me because that’s how I’ve been conditioned my whole life. So, you know what? Fuck the literal definition and the scientific definition and what everyone thinks. I finally have to just confront and accept this.

I’m gay.

Oh look, didn’t spontaneously fucking combust. Well, there we go, that was a lot of stress about nothing, wasn’t it? Bloody hell. So yup, I’m here, I’m queer, and don’t worry I’m still filled with existential fear.

WE’RE HERE, WE’RE QUEER WE’RE FILLED WITH EXISTENTIAL FEAR.

Chapter 5 – Fear

Even though I’m at this current place, there is still so much I’m afraid of and this has taken months to make because of that. Telling my family was a big fear. I have problems connecting with them emotionally because reasons. So I only came out to them this month and if it didn’t go well, as I’m now the independent adult that I fought so hard to be, I was ready to cut them off like the bottom of a sweater turning into a seasonal crop. But I didn’t have to, love you. I didn’t think they’d reject me these days but coming out is still a surprise. It changes things. And I’m a pretty awkward person generally but the idea of just dropping this in conversation in front of them all terrified me. And I tried several times this year to do it but I just couldn’t. So you know how I finally came out to my family? E-mail. Yep, I literally just sent them an e-mail saying and I quote,

“Hello gang. I’ve been meaning to talk to you all for a while, something quite important that should be disclosed at some point. I thought I would around Christmas, then Mum’s birthday, then last Easter Sunday, etc., but every time I meant to, I either felt like I would ruin the mood of the day or I just felt awkward and didn’t want to. So I decided just to email you all instead which is really inappropriate and just weird but that somehow seems appropriate for me and at least I’ll just finally say it.

Basically I’m gay.”

Yup. It was just getting ridiculous so I thought screw it and hey, it worked. Turns out my remaining family, pretty chill bunch of people. Even my Christian grandma said this,

“We love you for being you. It must be a great relief to finally acknowledge who you are. Popsie and I just want you to be happy. People are born as they are and have no say in it. I hope that now you will feel free to live your life as you want with no pretense.”

Aw.

“Don’t forget the iPad.”

Yes, I said I’d give her my old iPad. She mainly cares about that I thing. Wasn’t so sure when I was 17 but it went well now and I know that makes me lucky but, hey, it shows that times change. As for the other people in my life, obviously all the friends I have now are cool. If anyone in my life I’ve ever known isn’t cool with it then I don’t care. And sure here online there might be a few incredibly lost bigots following me or just some classic trolls who I think should get fucked. No, like literally, I think you should try it. You’ll probably enjoy it and you might learn something about yourself. Inevitably some of you watching this might have a weird reaction if you just feel like it was a shock or you feel hurt that I kept it from you. But I feel like I explained myself reasonably here and going forward I can’t have any space for that, sorry. I’ve come to terms with who I am and now you have to, too, ha. Funnily enough straight up homophobia is probably the one thing I’m not that afraid of, because I just don’t agree so it doesn’t hold much emotional power over me but you bet I’m opening myself up to all new kinds of in real life and international discrimination now which is fun. But one of the other big fears holding me back was, honestly, that I wouldn’t be accepted by the community. I know that it’s a big pride flag covering a lot of ground and even the idea of it and certainly most of it is amazing. But there is a lot of drama within it right now especially on the internet. You’ve got Grindr gays arguing about how manly gays should be, bi’s getting ignored, trans people, especially of color, not being historically appreciated, acephobia, fucking SWERFs and TERFs. No thank you. So even though they are my people, I know some of them will have problems with something. And even then, just seeing such a loud and proud, strong and opinionated group of people celebrating something just intimidates a smol introvert such as myself. And in my mind if these people don’t accept me because I’m not being definitive enough or I took too long then I almost feel like I’ll be alone all over again, and this is a fear that a lot of people have honestly. But I’m a nice guy and I’m trying my best so you better be welcoming, you bunch of fuckin’ queers. And obviously with the topic of sexuality, it doesn’t matter where we are or how far you think we’ve come, by merely mentioning it, I will be opening up a primordial box of bullshit which will include every single stupid argument and question since the dawn of time. [It’s not natural.] There’s gay animals. [Adam and Steve.] That’s based on a story and the protagonist that arrives later probably doesn’t agree with you. [Why can’t we have straight pride?] I could spend 10 hours on all the classic crap and people would still be asking the same things. This being posted on the internet, my hopes are so incredibly low, lower than my self-esteem. Wow, that is unhealthy. I need to stop doing that. This video is about internalized oppression and the problems of language. I’m not here to pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the entire concept of gayness. *ASMR voice*: Pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the concept of gayness.

There’s other humans and all the time in the world left for that. The time in the world coincidentally being not much longer. Climate change LMAO. But I had to tell my story so people would understand me and these things. Why coming out is still a big deal because queer people are often invisible and suffering until they have to do it. Some people grow up in supportive environments and it’s a positive experience. But more likely, especially around the world outside of the big cities, it isn’t. This is not a fight that is anywhere near over. Even in Britain today people are debating whether children should be taught to be accepting of sexual and gender identity in school.

Queer people exist. Choosing not to accept them is not an option.

To anyone watching this that isn’t out, it’s okay. You’re okay. You were born this way, it’s right, and anyone that has a problem with it is wrong. Based on your circumstance, you might not feel ready to tell people yet or that it’s safe and that’s fine, too. Just know that living your truth, with pride, is the way to be happy. You are valid. It gets so much better. And the future is clear. It’s pretty queer.

So there we go. Now I can proceed authentically in my life with full disclosure. Cute mutuals know to slide into the DMs. And you can all fuck off and leave me alone.

Bye.

#basically i'm gay #daniel howell #danielhowell #dan and phil #amazingphil #phil lester #yes im tagging i dont care #if there's a flaw somewhere (like a missed part or sm) dm me so i could fix it #id go through it again anyway but just in case #oh and it's literally just dan's substitles so all credits to him or whoever did that #hmm i wonder if they hired someone. interesting #have fun #the script

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vampireqrow-moved · 4 years ago

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hey so I agree with a lot of the stuff in your post about the transphobia involved in the origin of the pansexual label, but I just have one question: what are the actual impacts of people with good intentions calling themselves pan? If you don't hate pansexuals and consider them bi, why type up a paragraphs long manifesto on the harms of the origin of the label if it means the same thing in the way that most non transphobic people (your audience) use it? a lot of identities can be used in transphobic ways (like bi and lesbian and anything really) and plenty of valid identities from problematic roots and evolve over time as people use them differently (queer, transsexual). so how is a person with good intentions using a not-perfect label in a way you don't like a threat to the community? if someone is using the label pan transphobically, wouldn't their bigotry exist independently? if pan people do not act in transphobic ways besides using the label pansexual, realistically what is changing if they call themselves bi beyond holier-than-thou aesthetic activism? plus, a blog on the internet isn't going to get everyone to stop identifying as pansexual, especially considering multiple prominent celebrities ID as pan. so why spend all that energy quibbling on semantics because some bi people use a slightly different word when you could be worrying about Literally anything else? just feels like you want to find something to argue about lol. extremely disappointed that I had to break a mutual

im going to respond to each thing you bring up chronologically- im not trying to nitpick or prioritize certain things you say ill just forget things if i go out of order and i dont want to miss something important. ALSO! i will be typing less formally (like keysmashes and shortening words n stuff) in this response than my og post bc its 1am as im starting to type this so im tired but i want to be clear that i am like. taking this seriously and im not like. mocking u in anyway if it could read that way?? i hope not but just in case anyways here it goes!

in terms of actual impact people with good intentions identifying as pan: honestly im not sure the full scope of the impact this has, so ill only be speaking to what ive personally seen which might not be all. but like... id argue my younger self has good intentionals iding as pan. i wanted to support trans people, even if i didnt understand a lot of the nuance involved. as a result of this, i developed a sense of superiority over other bisexuals and a mentality that bisexuality was a primitive and lesser sexuality. that mentality is harmful, and although im not sure if it affected bisexuals around me (of which there are many most of my friends are bi ajfjfjf) its still a harmful mentality and can easily hurt people even if i specifically didnt. also using it even with good intentions, which i know many people have, still spreads and further normalizes a label that imo can not be separated from its transphobic origins. this effect is not as extreme as other forms of transphobia and biphobia by A LONG SHOT. the bi community faces a lot of other issues but that doesnt mean this one isnt worth addressing if that makes sense?

if i dont hate pansexuals: ik this is part of a larger point which i will adress but i specified this in my post bc i see a lot of other posts that are negative towards pansexuality have "i hate pan ppl" somewhere in it or a close equivalent. i do not shame these ppl for their anger, i just wanted to be clear i think a lot of pan ppl are bi ppl with good intentions choosing a label they dont fully understand based on a misunderstanding of bisexuality.

why write a paragraphs long manifesto on the harms of pansexuals origin: ok 😭😭 the real reason here is that im literally just bad at summarizing. like thats literally it. i also like talking, its a bad combination. plus ive been thinking abt this for like. over a year im not even kidding and just like i have a lot of thoughts and figured if i was going to bother making my own post instead of rbing someone elses that i might as well get everything i wanted to say off my chest. ALSO BTW i literally got an ask like a week ago that was several paragraphs long asking me to explain my thoughts on why pan was harmful and some other stuff so like. this is partially responding to that and partially just me wanting to air my grievances ? idk if thats the right expression 😔😔

why write the post if my audience of people who identify as pan arent doing it in a transphobic way ? again sorry i didnt really understand the phrasing so i hope this is a vaguely correct summary!! um but like... again imo i think pan cant be separated from its transphobia and like. again imo iding as pan is like. a transphobic action/choice? obviously one transphobic thing does mean someone necessarily is like officially a Transphobe (it CAN be depending on the action but i dont think that applies here) but that doesnt mean there arent problems with what they did. this is like very complicated, but like. someone doing something harmful without the knowlege that its harmful doesnt make that person a bigot by any means it just means they didnt know. and i feel thats the case here? a lot of ppl (myself included until recently) know next to nothing abt pansexualitys origins so a trans inclusve sexuality might seem like a safe and good bet just because they dont know too much abt it, and like? i cant hate those people cause that was me for 5+ years and djgjfjdj you just dont know what you dont know!

basically i think iding with a transphobic label is inherently a singular transphobic action that doesnt make the person transphobic by itself, but is still a transphobic instance.

a lot of identities can be used in transphobic ways like bi, lesbian, etc.: this is true and a point i attempted to make on my original post, but i might not have clear enough. my issue with pan is specifically that it is a transphobic response to a preexisting identity. lesbian isnt an attempted trans inclusive indentity that replaced an identity that already existed (which have many trans ppl identifying with the og label). transphobes can use whatever labels they want, but transphobes using a label vs a label having a transphobic origin is very different. bigots use inclusive and supporting language for their bigotry all the time but language that originated with that bigotry is worse.

many valid identities stem from problemstic origins (like transsexual and queer) but the words evolve: ok my paraphrasing is a little weird there. anyways. the thing here is that. those are slurs. reclaimed slurs that can be empowering to many people, yes, but slurs nonetheless. reclaiming a slur is taking a harmful word and wearing it as a badge of pride. first off, pansexual is not a slur (ur not implying that in anyway just. saying) and it isnt being reclaimed when people dont treat it as having harmful origins. transsexual is the way some people identify but ppl acknowlege its a slur and originates from transphobia. ppl love to act like queer isnt a slur, which is an issue in and of itself, but just. factually it has historically and is currently being used against ppl with the intent to hurt them. pansexual isnt on the same level as these and other words like the f slur, d slur, etc. pansexual originates from trans and biphobia WITHIN the community and not outside of it, and most pansexuals dont see themselves as reclaiming the title because they dont think anythings wrong with it in the first place. and reclaiming it just seems unnecessary considering its history? theres no empowerment from using pan as a label as opposed to queer or transsexual, and it just divides the bisexual community for no reason.

how is a person using a not-perfect label a threat to the community? ok i dont think its a threat but still an issue if that difference makes sense? id like to reiterate a few things ive said before, but for me personally, it made me look down on bisexuals and see them as lesser, and it made people around me see pan as the "trans inclusive" sexuality as opposed to bisexuality, and basically its usage just leads to further biphobia. is this the worst of biphobia? no!!! but its still biphobia and why not attempt to target and minimize that? i have no way to singlehandedly stop biphobia, but my post might get through to my friends who id as pan and that small thing is better than nothing.

if someone used the pan label in a transphobic way, wouldnt that bigotry be different from people using it not transphobically?: someone claiming all bi ppl are transphobic and only pan is the acceptable label is obviously a lot worse than someone iding as pan and saying bi/pan solidarity but again, the second isnt not an issue because the first one is a bigger issue, its just a smaller issue in comparison. i wouldnt say the bigotry is different, one is just worse than the other, but it still has the same problems.

if pan people dont do anything transphobic other than id as pan then what changes with iding as bi over pan other holier-than-thou activism: its just one less person using a transphobic label? which isnt that big but it might lead to their friends stopping iding as pan and cause fewer people around them to see bi as a transphobic identity. which is small scale stuff, i wont try to blow it out of proportion, but thats still a step in the right direction and hopefully more people follow with it. its not terribly huge or lifechanging but something small that may only affect the people close to you is still something rather than nothing.

a blog the internet isnt going to get people to stop iding as pan: oh absolutely not. honestly i expected to get unfollowed/blocked more than change peoples minds regarding the pan label (im surprised i only lost two followers so far honestly) but again, someone literally asked me to do this and i wanted to be clear on my stance on the label, since in the past ive been supportive of it. im not expecting the post to get more than five likes, its more directed to my followers rather than the internet as a whole. im not expecting a large impact, im hoping to change the minds of my followers and friends who id as and support the pan label. thats it. if something bigger comes from it- great! but thats not what im aiming to do.

prev point + many prominent celebrities id as pan: the first name that comes to mind is someone im not a fan of for separate reasons but thats irrelevant. i mean im repeating myself a bit but some celebrities in the past validated and made me feel excited abt my identity as a pan person when they came out, and it justified the label to me, even when i had doubts. i have never interacted with a celebrity and do not plan to change their minds abt their identity. again, my post was for my friends and followers and maybe who ever was scrolling through the biphobia tag and decided to read my post.

why spend that much energy worrying abt the pan label instead of something else: ive spent waaaaay more energy thinking abt a singular meme i didnt like regarding my favourite rwby character so like. maybe i just overreact to things lol. maybe i have a lot of energy and since i cant talk my friends ears off abt my favourite fruits or the different voting methods i learned in my math class or what would dreams taste like, then i gotta put my energy into something. idk. i have a lot of energy and honestly? this didnt take that much. but i felt it weighing on me as my friends talked positively abt the pan label, when i felt guilty for the superiority i felt over my bi friends INCLUDING my best friend and favourite person in the world so like. i spent enough energy worrying abt it, and like. in hindsight since its been over 12 hours since posting it, im thinking abt it less. i was more worried abt feeling dishonest with my friends than actually worrying abt pansexuality, but i figured i owed them an explanation for why my feelings around it had changed.

just feels like you want to find something to argue about: okay i DO love arguing but im not pulling this out of my ass for fun. its in response to posts ive seen on my dash, asks i recieved abt pansexuality, and my way of letting people know my views have changed and why since i know at least some people are curious.

i am sorry to lose a mutual as well, and i genuinely hope things go well for you, but uh yeah thats that.

again, if people have further questions im willing to answer them i just might take a while bc i have school and other stuff 2 do but uhhh yea sorry if im clogging ur dash sjfjfkkf

#asks #long post #anonymous #pansexuality #biphobia #transphobia #my post

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