#and he only sees genitals to which... I'm going to kill myself

[chaoskreeves]

Anyone who she/her's me on campus is gonna get the shit beat out of them 🤠🤠🤠

[doberbutts]

about your TME/Imane Khelif post, i believe i can provide some answers (im not transfem myself but im very interested in transfeminism)

first of all, no oppressed/oppressor binary is going to be perfect. POC/white is a useful distinction, but last summer a white man was killed after being mistaken for being arab. a straight man may be harassed for hugging his male friend and being seen as gay, etc. TME/TMA are useful terms to describe the way transmisogyny operates in society, even though like all oppressions, things can occasionally get muddled IRL. it doesn't make those terms useless or incorrect. to go back to the harassed straight man example, that man would certainly be a VICTIM of homophobia, but that doesn't make him gay, or mean that he doesn't have any heterosexual privilege at all.

(you said imane khelif may be sent to jail IF she's ruled not to be enough of a woman. horrifying prospect of course, but that IF is doing a lot! a trans woman would not have that IF!)

just wanted to provide that perspective since you asked very genuinely and thoughtfully. have a nice day

I appreciate the good faith response!!! This is exactly the sort of discussion I was looking for.

I am mostly on board - I have discussed at length how these social categories are muddy at best and do not operate on strict lines, and that people in general are impossible to place into neatly sorted boxes. Similar to your first example, I reference frequently a past love of mine who was white but often mistaken for mixed asian (usually chinese/white) due to his monolids, facial structure, and facial hair pattern. Despite being a white guy, he had numerous encounters with racists that ended quite violently for him, and as a result was probably one of the most sensitive white guys I've ever dated regarding race.

Being mistaken for being chinese, while not actually being chinese himself, is not at all the same as actually being chinese. I certainly agree. However, I think it is wrong to say that sinophobia does not affect him or that he is exempt from sinophobia because he has the ability to say "hey wait a second I'm not chinese I'm white". Mostly because any time he tried to do that, it didn't work, and he still got beaten up anyway.

And I also don't think it means he has no white privilege at all- certainly, we experienced it as a couple in real time because while he could be mistaken as a man of color, I absolutely am one without question. And, furthermore, I'm visibly black, not just "of color", which makes people really double down on the racism. Case in point, any time I parked my car in the visitor spot next to his apartment door, the landlord would run out of their office to chase me away stating the spot was only for approved visitors. Even though she saw me entering and exiting his residence in her pursuit to make me move my car. The town he lived in is less than 2% black, and these were luxury apartments that did not have a single black person in the building he specifically lived in. He could live there, but I couldn't even visit without being harassed.

Similarly, as I said in my post, I can see the logic of stating that there is privilege there even though Khelif is in a difficult situation currently, because yes, she can provide a birth certificate and a blood test and a genital check and be cleared of all accusations. I just think that being forced to submit to embarrassing and invasive testing, as well as being forced to provide personal documents, and having the world weigh in on the judgement of your gender, is not really a good literal get-out-of-jail-free card. It is certainly a leg up that she has the ability to do so. I do not think it is right that she should have to- but then I don't see the problem with trans women competing alongside cis women. I think it's stupid that sports are divided by gender and not by weight/height/proficiency.

And I think that forcing specifically women of color who oddly enough seem to be the vast majority of these cases (esp black women and esp esp black intersex women who didn't even know they were intersex before but w/e) to prove that they're woman enough to be qualified as women is racial violence with interphobia and transphobia as the weapon. Intersectionality and all that.

[calpalsworld]

I just realized Im over 6 months on T...!!!

My genuine review of T for others who may be considering or just interested in the topic.

Keep in mind that everyone will have different results on T. For me I am on a small dose because my T levels were already high to begin with.

Reasons why I went on T:

Was living out publicly as non binary but I would still feel upset when strangers would misgender me.

Had been wishing that I was more masc body wise and voice wise since at least high school.

Didn't have intense dysphoria but I felt very neutral about my body. It felt strange and like it wasn't progressing how I imagined it would. I had certain features that pissed me off, which I knew T would change.

Dysphoria was triggered in public interactions and when I had to acknowledge my body by myself. I felt like strangers weren't seeing me as me, and felt that I wasn't experiencing my body in the way I wanted to.

Pros:

Everything!!!

Voice that surprises me with how deep it is sometimes. When I lean back against a chair and speak I can feel my diaphragm rumble.

Menstruation stopped almost immediately.

(May be TMI but this is a major thing yet the only thing that I did not know was going to happen before starting). Rapid and significant genital changes. Psychologically helpful for me.

Hairier arms, stomach, and thighs.

Stomach fat and face fat increase. (potentially boob and thigh fat decrease but it may be placebo or just in contrast).

More facial fuzz.

Slightly veinier hands.

Slightly thicker/more muscular arms.

Looking at myself and seeing someone who looks good and confident and masc/butch and feeling great about it. Sometimes I look at myself in the reflections of building windows and get excited.

Being able to discuss T with other friends who are on T.

People misgender me as he/him and a man (Im non binary and go by they/them) more often than misgendering me as she/her and a woman now. This is still not ideal but it bugs me less.

Random queer strangers asking "are you on T!?" and being excited.

Knowing I dont have to live my life as a lie.

Cons:

My pre existing erotophobia (I'm triggered and obsessive over certain things relating to sex) has been activated as I experience new things.

My pre existing paranoia being rebranded into a trans related experience (I worry sometimes people are stalking me and planning to kill me for the slightest things I do wrong, now I worry that its because Im trans). This will go away once I work through my mental illness and internalized bigotry.

Voice hurt when the changes started (like a sore throat for a few weeks as if I was sick).

I cant do a lot of funny voices that I liked doing anymore, but I can do new voices.

New and strange sensations in genital area, during the first few weeks it was very painful (I have Pelvic Floor Dysfunction and Vaginismus so this may not be a universal experience).

Became slightly stinkier and oilier when I started, but it seems to have gone away.

I'm non binary and I still feel connected to women and I get anxious that people won't be able to comprehend that. (examples: others might not like me calling myself "butch" or sharing my experiences with womanhood). But this is internal rather than reflective of anything I've experienced. This may be entirely in my head.

Family awkwardness. Family members assuming crazy stories about how I feel. (generic things like: thinking i hate myself and am scared of men so i want to turn myself into a man?!?!😭😭😭). But friends and others do not assume these things.

(TMI but true) Thick buttcrack hair is annoying.

Future thoughts:

I feel very fortunate that my experience with T is going very well.

I know the best parts of T takes time and patience to become apparent so I am excited that I started at 21.

I am proud of achieving what I thought might only be a fantasy, and I hope I can have access to T for the rest of my life.

[djnusagi]

It is 2003. I am 4 years old. Every day I'm dropped off at the daycare center in the community college my dad attends. All my friends there are girls. We play dress up with a big milk crate full of clothes. I want to wear one of the dresses. I am told it's not allowed because I'm a boy. It is 2005. I am 6 years old. I make friends with a girl in my class. She is my best friend and we are together every day. One day she says she can't be my friend anymore because I am a boy and boys are gross and I'm weird. I don't want to be friends with any of the boys. They all bully me and hit me and pin me to the ground. But that's ok because that's just how boys play. I have no friends anymore. It is 2006. I am 7 years old. I stare at a woman in an advertisement in one of my mom's magazine. She is beautiful. I want to grow up to look like her. I realize I will not grow up to look like her and will instead grow up to look like my father. The thought fills me with fear. I go up to my room and cry. I draw a picture of myself as a girl. I go to sleep praying that I will wake up as a girl named Sarah, and that my life as a boy will slowly fade from my mind. I try to kill myself through strangulation in the school bathroom. I obviously fail but my attempt on my life is discovered anyway. My parents are furious that I would be so selfish. It is 2009. I am 10 years old. I have one friend. He hits me and calls me a faggot but he is nicer than any other boys at school. I am over at his house. His mother speaks on the phone about a gay man they knew who got something called a "sex change". I do not know what this means but it piques my interest. I desperately want to know more, but I know that it's taboo and wrong.

It is 2011. I am 12 years old. I discover what "transgender" means. I spend hours on the computer, looking at websites about Male to Female Transsexuals. I treat the transsexual roadmap like a bible. I want to transition right away. I tell my school counselor. She is supportive, but implores me to consider simply being a gay male crossdresser like her son. I do not want that. I want to be a girl. I tell my parents. They tell me I have been brainwashed. That I will never be allowed to transition and that if they catch me looking at websites about the matter I will be punished. It is 2012. I am 13 years old. A year of constant begging and pleading has convinced my parents to take me to a gender specialist. I think I will finally get puberty blockers, or maybe even estrogen. I am interrogated for hours by an adult about my sexuality, sexual desires, and whether or not I like women's clothing. I like boys and girls, which I tell her, but I do not have much in the way of sexual desires, because I am 13. She takes this as deceit. At one point she touches between my legs and rubs my genitals through my pants. I do not want this. But I will endure it for the privilege of being allowed to transition. In the end she tells me there is no way I can be trans, because I am attracted to girls and interested in anime, which is a "male interest". It is 2013. I am 14 years old. Every day I roleplay in chatrooms with strangers. I do not want them to be sexual but they quickly take on a sexual nature at the insistence of my rp partners. I have been doing this for a year now. This is the only place I can be a girl. I exchange skype info with a few of these people and begin chatting regularly. A man in his late 20s asks me to be his girlfriend. I accept. At least he sees me as a girl. It is 2014. I am 15 years old. I have begun growing scraggly hair all over my neck. I have been in a daze for weeks. I cannot focus. I feel detached from my body. I am like a zombie. My dad takes me into the bathroom and shows me how to shave. He pats me on the back and tells me I am a man now. I go into my bedroom and cry. Later on my parents discover the roleplaying and my boyfriend. My ipod and my laptop are confiscated and the door is taken off my bedroom. I am placed under strict monitoring and supervision. I try to kill myself. I wake up alive in a hospital bed. I am taken to a large building where I sleep on a cot and am watched by doctors. I don't remember a lot from this time period. I went home and watched evangelion for the first time.

It is 2016. I am 17 years old. The door is put back on my bedroom. I am given back my iPod and am allowed to take my laptop into my bedroom by myself. I stay inside every day watching pirated anime because it lets me forget about reality. It is 2018. I am 19 years old. I get my first smartphone and immediately download grindr. I hook up with strange men who hide me from their wives. Being fucked by them is the closest I get to feeling like a girl. I find out about a student at my community college who sells a variety of sedative pills. It is 2019. I am 20 years old. I am spending all my money on xanax, percocets, oxycotin and similar pills. I take them more and more often and in higher doses over time. I start coming to class high. I fall asleep in the hallways from time to time. This is the only way I can numb the constant ambient pain caused by my unaddressed gender dysphoria. It is 2020. I am 21 years old. The whole world is locked down. I am forced to stop taking pills and replace it with copious amounts of weed, which is now legal. I am no longer in school. I am high all the time. I can't sleep at night. I want to be a girl so badly. It is 2021. I am 22 years old. I will start school again in September. I have started hormone replacement therapy, but I know it is too late for me. My body is mangled beyond repair by years of drugs. I have taken to excessive caloric restrictions in order to lose weight. The hormones don't do much, but they help me sleep better. I am sober now. It is 2024. I am about to turn 25 in a month. I see an article headlined: "my trans kid experienced a joyful, anxiety-free girlhod - all thanks to puberty blockers". I want to cry but the tears won't come. I know that should have been me. But it wasn't. I will never be a girl. I will never be a woman. I will never be happy.

[mpsideadump]

me and my dad playing Baldur's Gate 3

So our physical copy of Baldur's Gate 3 arrived a few weeks ago now and both my dad and I have been having a blast playing this game! I wanted to just ramble about the game but mostly I want to highlight my dad in this post. I do want to say that I knew some act 1 and act 2 stuff (never even seen act 3) before playing the game myself cuz I didn't think that a physical ps5 version of the game would ever come out but my dad is going in completely blind!

We're playing on our own campaigns on our own accounts. I've just made my way to Act 2 meanwhile my dad's just found the tiefling Grove because he's getting used to the mechanics (never played DnD before but does enjoy the turn based combat system).

I'm playing a half-drow bard (I had been planning my character for a long time since we pre-ordered the physical edition) while Dad's playing an elf monk. Funnily enough we stayed up til like 1 a.m. as I helped him create his character (like explaining race bonuses, Stat distribution, proficiencies etc.). The actual character creation (appearance and stuff like that) took 2 whole hours as he kept on discovering what features the creator allowed. I'm never gonna forget his reaction to being able to have two different eye colors. He went something like "oh hell yeah I'll have that!".

And I legit laughed my ass off at his reaction to the genital customization and how he actually took like 2 minutes (I'm not joking) looking through the options and trying to figure out the differences between them 😂

Anyways, aside from character creation, I'm watching my dad play through the beginning of act 1 to see his reactions to everyone and giving him tips and pointers for combat and exploration (organizing the party, what can and can't be used as an action, etc.). I'm completely hands off on what he does though such as decisions and where to go .

Some highlights of his campaign so far:

Shadowheart being missing on the beach cuz he went to camp first thing after the ship crashed (and me discovering a new way to meet her at the tiefling grove)

Him not liking Astarion upon first meeting but keeping him around cuz, again, he's missing Shadowheart and really needs another party member.

Giving Astarion the ugly leather helmet and NOT EVEN HIDING IT because he's punishing him for insulting his character for "being from different circles" (from the Baldurian dialogue option)

Immediately liking Gale and saying he looks like Jesus Christ

Going to the tomb and losing two hours of progress after meeting Withers because the Gane crashed as he was organizing stuff (he thus learned the lesson of always saving before and after something important happens)

Speaking of, he spends A LOT of time organizing his things like actually putting collected books in book stacks and even placing bottles on the bottle rack

Becoming a fellow Lae'zel enjoyer and (please remember both of us haven't gotten far enough in the game to learn more of the characters just yet) agreeing that Shadowheart is annoying with her racism (though I do understand githyanki are extremists in their own way)

Sending Lae'zel to camp begrudgingly to recruit Shadowheart then immediately sending her to camp as well (thankfully they didn't kill each other while he was away but I have seen the moment where they do actually try to kill each other during a long rest 😉)

almost losing Gale because he used the tadpole on him as he was confessing about his condition and had to pass a DC 10 persuasion check (without proficiency and Shadowheart's guidance) to keep him around

Karlach is the only origin character he's yet to find but he's currently thinking of finding her after going to the goblin camp cuz he wants to focus on the main story. I predict that he's gonna love her upon meeting her!

While I'm pursuing Gale and Lae'zel for a romance (I'll choose which one I commit to throughout Act 2), I'm not too sure on who Dad is gonna pursue or if he'll even pursue anyone at all. If trends are anything to go off of, I think he might end up going for Shadowheart cuz he's romanced Miranda in Mass Effect and Yennefer in Witcher 3. However, if he's got taste, he's gonna go for Karlach is my guess.

All in all, I'm happy that both of us are playing this game because it's been a long time since we've had a game to bond over. We tried playing Final Fantasy 16 together but he couldn't get into the combat and I felt bad wanting to continue by myself when this same thing happened with FF15. He introduced me to video games and I loved watching him play when I was a kid and then eventually going on to play and beat multiple games he wasn't able to complete himself.

I hope both of us are able to get to the end eventually for this adventure :)

Dad's character: Soon-tion

My character: Tala

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝓐𝓾𝓻𝓸𝓻𝓪 𝓐𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓶: 𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙, 𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛, 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖, 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎, 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚜. 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘 × 𝙿𝚜𝚢𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎)

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟹𝙺

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚂𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚄

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I breathed out an airy and desolate sigh through my nose, obviously I unconsciously did it a little too loud as the raven haired male sitting across from me looked down at the floor.

"It was all my fault.....wasn't it?"

I looked up, the glasses sitting on my nose bridge tilting slightly that I had to push them back up so I could study his features, or should I say, his expressions. His eyelids never blinked once, his eyes were trained on the pattern of the carpet underneath him, but I knew his mind was elsewhere. I looked with pity at the bandages wrapped around his wrists, some of the edges stained with fresh blood. I gulped slightly, my stomach threatening to spill out my meager lunch of an apple and avocado toast slice from earlier. I could handle hearing patients tell and retell me about how they stabbed their parents to death, cut off their significant other's genitals because they were unloyal to them, even tackled a deranged lunatic that once tried to...... seduce me to put mildly.......

But to this day, I can't help but get dizzy when I treat or deal with patients who are self harming victims, because yes, they are victims. Victims of their own self loathing, guilt, and depressive state that isn't their fault. It just pains me so much to see them resort to such drastic measures...

But I'm also not stupid and know some, if not most only do it for attention or to manipulate others, and Yunho is a case not far from it. Which is why I was the one sent to deal with him. All the other psychologists would have fallen for his sad puppy eyes, good looks, well built physique and would have released him too early into the world. Not that he's dangerous and a threat to society, but he's not emotionally nor mentally stable to go deal with daily life yet. And I'm not a softie by any means even if I'm patient and meek doctor when necessary. But I'm objective and I seek deeper into the true person hiding behind the front they put in front of me.

"Do you believe it was your fault Yunho?" Usually one would get scolded for answering a question with a question, but I prefer this method in order to get my patients to reason and draw out their own conclusions......

And makes them pour out their true answers.

I watch Yunho ponder for a moment.

"It has to be- otherwise she wouldn't have...wouldn't have-"

He bites back a choked sob, teeth tightening and gritting against themselves as he fails to contain his tears. His hands cover his face as he begins to cry uncontrollably, desperate and heartwrenching wails resonating throughout the 4 walls keeping us company. Reaching for the purple plaid box on the coffee table between us, I take out a few tissues and stand up from my seat. Lightly tapping on his shoulder, I whisper a 'here' to him. He thanks me, but since he's crying too hard no sound comes out his throat. For the next few minutes, he's blowing out his runny nose, all red just like his eyes from crying too hard. He's sniffling while trying to control his previous hyperventilating session. I want to hug him or at least give him a pat in the back. But I can't, I can only sit back and try to imagine the agony he's probably going through, try to put myself in his shoes as I dive deep into the event that got him here in the first place:

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

Coming back from a trip to the store, Yunho momentarily looks around confused when he heard his baby daughter crying. Quickly putting the bags on the kitchen counter, he makes his way over to the nursery that adjoined the main bedroom. Calling out for his wife, he receives no response as he walks down the hallway. He calls once more for her but stops midway as he opens the slightly ajar door. His heart stops beating and his veins run cold as he stares into the lifeless body of his beloved wife hanging in the room, feeling as if the oxygen is being ripped out from his lungs, suffocating slowly.

As if sensing his agitation, his daughter's cries from the other room grow louder, so much that they raise concern from their next door neighbor, a kind and sweet old lady who more than once has offered her help in watching over the child or help them out in any way she could. Typing in the passcode, she makes it there just in time to stop the tall male from inflicting more harm upon himself as he holds onto his wife's body in agony. Having been left with no choice, she immediately calls for an ambulance, who arrive there shortly and take him to a nearby hospital.

He was monitored 24/7 as he had a history of attempted suicide before. The nurses and doctors didn't want another episode to happen again, not wanting to leave a barely 1 year old fatherless as well as motherless. As an investigation went, police found a journal hidden deep between the mattresses on the bed. When they poured over the first pages, they knew there was much more to the story than just a doting husband who couldn't live without his wife, hence why he was relocated to the infamous asylum......

And a specialized woman was tasked to not only unmask the truth, but hopefully help a poor broken mind be put back together again.

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

Hence why I'm here now, the folder I had read over and over again still on my lap. It honestly amazed me that I'd actually get to work on a case like this, and of course I took up the challenge of digging into a mind like Yunho's, not just to help him, but to leave a precedent for any other situations like this that came after.

"A precedent?" I remember the officer asking me.

"Yes. You'd be surprised just how common these types of toxic relationships there are in an everyday basis yet no one ever looks deeper because they're too focused treating a depressed person who's trying to kill themselves and don't focus on what they really are...."

Shutting the folder, I tucked it under my arm before turning on my heel.

"A manipulative individual who'll do anything to keep someone tied to them forever."

That's how I viewed Yunho, it's how I should be viewing him. At least until I could hopefully get him to change.

"How's......is my daughter ok?"

I let out a soft hum and nod as I scribbled something down on the notepad.

"She's fine. We're having someone take care of her in the meantime, don't worry."

Yunho let out a sigh of relief, fingers fidgeting against his thighs as he mustered up the courage to say something.

"Could I.....could I please see her?"

From the sad look in my eyes he could already tell the answer was negative.

"I'm sorry Yunho....I'm afraid until we see some improvement, we can't allow you to be reunited with her just yet."

I tried to keep my voice steady as I said that, bracing myself to possibly see him breakdown once more. He had already lost his wife and now learning that his only child was forced away from him could possibly send him spiraling down into another episode.

But Yunho instead took a deep breath and seemed calm.

"I understand.....it's ok..." I knew he was saying those last two words more to himself than to me.

Lifting his face up, he suddenly shocked me by looking so bright and rather happy.

"So I guess it's best if we begin right?"

Even to this day, I don't know whether I should have been delighted to have such a compliant patient.....

Or terrified.

❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃❃

"Tell me Yunho, what was your first reaction when you saw your wife?"

A subtle hint of a smile curled at the corners of his lips.

"I thought she was the kindest and most caring person in the world, very pretty too. She just walked in and the room instantly lit up."

He was reminiscing about those times, I could tell. That fond look on his face was unmistakable.

"Do you believe you fell in love at first sight with her?"

His smile suddenly dissipated, eyebrows scrunching together as if recollecting memories from so long ago.

"I think.......I felt attracted to her.....but.....I don't think it was love?"

I could tell he felt conflicted with himself, but that's exactly what I wanted. I want him to question every feeling and sensation he felt at the moment so he could decide for himself if it was real or just a mere illusion he held. If he starts to second guess or question what he felt then he'd start reasoning and come to the conclusion that what he felt was wrong and mistaken. He'd see that his actions weren't justified.

"So when do you truly believe you fell in love with her?"

I stopped writing on my notepad and watched him close his eyes as he tried to pinpoint the exact time he felt whatever he thought was love.

"One night....one of our friends was feeling down in spirits. I witnessed how caring she was towards them...kindly reassuring them that they were loved, that they mattered. I vividly remember her kind eyes and loving smile as she comforted them. Then it hit me that she was that kind of person. Selfless, caring, doting, would sacrifice anything for her friends and family...... it was hard for anyone not to fall in love with her."

He turned his hand over, studying the wedding ring that he still wore to this day, the engravings of their initials being his prime interest.

"And at that moment I knew I had to have her. I couldn't let anyone else have her. I wanted her.... that love, compassion, empathy..her confidence and strong nature, I wanted-"

He stopped mid sentence and his eyes wizened in horror as he came to the realization I had foreseen long ago. He looked up at me, meeting my unwavering eyes that held no emotion at that moment.

"She had all the qualities I had always lacked in."

I took my glasses off and nodded.

"And I unconsciously wanted them for myself.... but the only way I could have them was...through her?" He seemed sickened with himself.

"Not exactly Yunho. You could have learnt to love yourself and raise your self esteem." I quickly scribbled my observation down.

"But I didn't. Instead I caged her up and slowly tore her down."

I couldn't help but let out an involuntary smile as he drew out that conclusion.

"Glad to know you've accepted that fact, even if it took several months for you to understand."

Shutting the notepad, I lifted myself up from my chair, straightening my blouse. Yunho followed suit.

"Is our session over?" He was always so polite, always escorting me out and holding the door open for me, which other doctors would have adamantly refused, too scared to come close to their patients. But not me. I let them have certain liberties at times.

"Not yet Yunho. As you've made remarkable progress, I got permission for you to see someone."

He was momentarily confused for a split second. Poor thing probably thought it was one of the nurses coming in to give him some new medication to take, which he hated with a passion. Stepping outside for a brief moment, I happily took the young baby in my arms, the little girl already used to seeing me as I always went to go see her after being with Yunho for a few hours. When I came back inside he had his back turned to me, once again staring off into nowhere. The light gurgled babbles the baby emitted caught his attention immediately. He whipped his head around so fast I thought he'd break his neck for a second. He teared up as the child began squealing in excitement as she recognized her father right away.

"Oh my-" He choked up with tears that he couldn't finish his sentence.

I calmly walked over to him, lightly bouncing the baby in my arms. Yunho hesitantly reached his hands out.

"Can I..?" He had such a hopeful glint in his eyes.

I didn't answer, I merely held his daughter out to him. As soon as she felt his embrace, she latched onto him as if he was one of the teddy bears she often slept with. Perhaps he was one.

No....he is one.

In my time of spending time with Yunho, I've come to strongly believe he is a sweet and tender individual. And judging by the way the little girl feels safe in his arms, I do believe he is capable of being truly loved.....

If he learns how to properly love not just someone else, but himself too.

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Stepping out of my car, I quickly grab the small pink bag on the passenger seat before locking it. Treading through the small patch of green grass, I ring the doorbell and wait for one of the occupants to open up for me. No surprise, I'm greeted by the same raven haired male I met nearly 3 years ago. He looks delighted to see me.

"Y/N. Hi!"

I wave at him, a small but genuine smile on my features.

"Hi Yunho. Did I come at a bad time?" I notice the apron covered in flour and leftover egg on it.

"Oh no not at all. Please come in."

Moving aside to let me pass, my nose catches the scent of baked goods filling the air. I can distinctly recognize the hints of lavender and french vanilla, an odd but surprisingly tasty combination. I spot out of the corner of my eye a little head peeking out from the kitchen, curious to know who had come to pay them a visit. Letting out a squeal, she quickly ran over to attach herself on my leg.

"Y/N!"

I chuckled and lightly run my fingers through her hair which was longer than the last time I saw it.

"Hi Jina, I see you've been baking something." We both chuckle as I scraped off some cake batter that had gotten on the tip of her button nose.

"Me and dad are making cupcakes for my friend's birthday party tomorrow." She explained.

"Wow that's a really nice gesture. I bet they'll turn out delicious."

Remembering that I was short on time and that I had one last task to carry out, I pull out the bag I had hidden behind my back and hand it to her.

"It's for you."

Her eyes began to sparkle so much they could rival all the stars in the galaxy. After thanking me like 20 thousand times, she plopped her tiny body on the couch to tear into the contents inside it. I shake my head before taking out a small paper from inside my trench coat.

"And this is for you."

Taking the slip from my fingers, Yunho opens it up and scans what it says. He seems confused for a moment, not fully understanding what it means. He looks to me once more, probably for the last time, asking for an explanation.

"It's your official release from the institution. No more drop in visits, no more eyes on you 24/7, and soon you won't have to continue with the prescribed medication, although when that happens they will send someone once in a while to check up and make sure you're ok without them."

Yunho nods but it is a rather sad and pained nod.

"So this means you won't be seeing us any longer?"

I inhale deeply and nod.

"This was a temporary thing until you got better Yunho. After all....I was only the doctor assigned to you."

It hurt me to say that as much as it probably hurt him, as much as it'd hurt Jina to know I wouldn't be coming back anymore.

"Can't we at least be friends?"

I hated seeing those puppy eyes of him practically beg me, signature trait he passed on to his daughter.

"That would be completely unprofessional of my part Yunho. I deeply cherish and treasure all the time we spent together and I'm beyond happy and satisfied that you've come so far since the start of our journey..."

I sighed deeply.

"But every journey has an end." He finished my sentence.

Extending his hand out to me, I took it and gave it a firm shake.

"I'm really going to miss you." He admitted.

"Me too. Me too."

Going over to the momentarily forgotten 4 year old, she let out an 'oof' when she suddenly found herself cooped up in my embrace.

"Take care of yourself and of your dad ok?"

I kissed the top of her head, her grinning face not registering that this might be the last time she ever saw me. Yunho walked me out the door and even escorted me all the way to my car. Always the gentleman, he held the door open for me. Before I could even get one foot inside, I felt a large hand grip my wrist. Turning to him, I was flustered when he suddenly pulled me close to him.

"Please don't leave. I need you....I..."

He looked conflicted with himself as he tried to finish his words. Taking a deep breath, he confessed:

"I love you."

My heart sank. He said the 3 words I hoped he'd never direct at me. Mainly because I was scared as he was. Don't get me wrong, Yunho is a wonderful man, and he truly deserves to be loved....

But am I certain that he has finally learned to love? Or is it because he feels he needs me?........

Only one way to find out.

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[yarbz]

cowardly game of rival — n.jaemin ( f )

synopsis!

 ━ as the girl’s football team captain, you were used to the endless derogatory taunts, the wolf-whistling, the attempts at romance being boys telling you what they thought of barcelona’s starting XII. na jaemin fell into all those catergories, a detestable flea in your hair. as sworn enemies, there was not even an inkling of romance, and you were convinced that your attraction to him was ONLY physical. weren’t you?

pairing ━ na jaemin x female!reader

word count ━ 6k

genres ━ fluff, rival!au, football!au, comedy, romance, very little of the football game is described in detail.

warnings ━ profanity, football terms, dirty jokes, y/n and jaemin are literally just cowards

( author's note! )

this one came to mind when i thought of how i love female footballers and decided that jaemin would be the idiot in question to chicken out of confessing to their crush by being an ass instead. i really hope you like it !! other notes are sissoko is the name of like three different players and a cracker is slang for a really good goal.

Football.

A sport of creatively insane wits, fancy footwork and incoherent celebrations. Those were all the things you loved about it, along with the ridiculously cute uniform.

It provided you an escape from the man's world, a chance to carve out your own story, free from the shackles of stereotypes. At least, that's what you'd initially thought.

Unfortunately, the boy's football team made it their sole objective in life to demean you. As captain, you took on the strenuous task of refusing to resort to physical violence when a stupid comment about your short length was made or when boys assumed you couldn't tell your Sissoko's apart (you could, quite well actually).

You had taken it as a sign of war, and refused to comment on their pathetic sneers. You did, however, feel as if Na Jaemin made a blood pact or something to be a parasite towards you.

He stood at the cusp of six foot, towering over you like an evergreen beanstalk, cheshire-cat like smile taunting you. Chocolate colour tresses fell over his eyes in straight lines, shielding his forehead.

It's not like you paid attention to his visage, but even you had to admit in your spite that he was attractive. And horribly so.

Today started like every other, going to your locker before heading to your homeroom. Luckily, you'd managed to get there before the freshmen started to pile in. Being a senior had its positives along with its various faults, one of them being the early access you got to the school.

You jammed your key in the lock, flinging open the locker door, making quick work of exchanging your books. In your fast-paced stupor, you didn't notice the figure leaning behind the door. You slammed the door shut, nail catching an patch of skin, scraping it.

"If you wanted me to leave, you could've been less catty." The voice wheedled, throwing a withering glare in your direction. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, arms crossed across your chest.

"Jaemin." You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Why are you hiding behind my locker? Are you looking for a death wish?"

He sat up slowly, soothing his reddening nose, suddenly regaining his smile as he leaned closer towards your face. "If I was looking for a death wish, I'd eat whatever food you just stuffed in there."

"Fuck off. Don't see you making any gourmet meals."

"I'm the gourmet meal." He slithered, breath fanning your nose. From this distance, you could see the wonder swimming within his eyes, breath caught in your throat.

Damn, he was too fine.

You tore your gaze from his eyes, "And yet, I don't feel inclined to taste it." He jumped back in surprise, eyes widening, giving you an opening to dash. Chuffed that you left him speechless, you walked towards your next class, resisting the urge to turn back to revel in his awe-struck face.

Jaemin's eyebrow quirked in curiosity, crooked smirk hanging from his lips. He watched you stalk away, cursing underneath his breath softly. You carried a fiery aura around you, burning him with every snarky remark — even though it beat him bruised ghastly lavenders, he could bear to play with fire if it meant you would pay him attention.

You see, Jaemin did not hate you as per say. The 'hate' which you believed in was merely his inability to profess his affections towards you. For lack of a better word, he was a coward.

A dashingly handsome one, but a fragile, chicken-legged coward all the same.

You'd made it to class in record time, ego bared boldly on your shoulders, attracting the curious eyes of your best friends Yangyang and Donghyuck. Both were terrorists in their own right, but you couldn't help loving them all the same. Sure, they came as a dreadful pair, but love had decided to shackle your heart to them.

"What's got you so happy? Jaemin finally drop dead?" Yangyang joked, shifting to make space for you. Headband strapped to the pinnacle of his forehead, he grinned at you from beneath the base of stretchy ebony material.

"No..not yet." You hummed, sad lilt to your tone.

"Awh, didn't kill him yet?" Donghyuck teased, nudging Yangyang in their laughter. "I think it must be love stopping you from committing the crime yourself." You shoved both, peals of laughter tickling your throat at their whines of pain.

"If you don't shut up, I'll be killing you two instead, never mind Jaemin." You snapped. "Love is what I feel when I score a cracker from the halfway line. Seeing Jaemin makes me want to jump out of the nearest window."

"Are you sure it's not just unresolved sexual tension? I, too get antsy when I haven't jacked off—"

"Finish that sentence and you'll have no arms."

"I'm flexible enough to suck myself off." Yangyang mused, "You'll never stop my libido."

"You're disgusting." You and Donghyuck said in sync, swatting his grabby hands from flying at your shoulders. Quite frankly, you didn't want to hear about his freakishly boneless limbs, or his untameable sex drive, nor hear anything about his genitals at all.

"Does that count as self—"

"Yes, it does. Please don't be telling people that I'm your friend, or that you can do that. It's not a little icebreaker."

Friendship with these two had crossed all sorts of personal boundaries you didn't know existed, and it was starting to decompose you, like a rotting piece of cabbage infested by slugs, yet still hanging on for the glimpse of sunlight to regenerate.

Okay, so you were being dramatic. But, that didn't explain their dire need to over share certain aspects of their lives with you.

"Doesn't change the topic at hand —Did you get my pun?" He asked, looking for Donghyuck's reaction.

"I did. Not going to comment on it before she breaks my arms. Just know I enjoyed it very much."

"If I wanted to mess around with Jaemin, I'd put my hand in a beehive. It'd sting less." You snarled, slamming down your books. They winced comically, faces alert as the teacher walked into the class.

Apart from football, you enjoyed learning — how to make things, break things, self defense, people skills, and education fell not too far from that. Classes like biology interested you greatly, which is why you found yourself fully immersed in the process of respiration.

Your mind drifted for a second, thinking back to what he'd said. Was it actually sexual tension? Did you actually bare an emotion other than loathing towards him? Then, you thought of that face and how you'd want to do nothing more than break his pretty little nose—

Yeah. There it was. You were normal after all.

School had come to her daily dreadful end, and you were happily striding into the ladies' changing rooms for football training. Nobody had gotten here yet, luckily.

You glanced over into the full body mirror, tugging at your shorts until they fell just above the bump of your knee, pulling your sock midway at your calf. Lean abs shone underneath the dim light, and you proudly paraded around the room, happy to be alone.

A knock on the door came, and you swung the door open with a feverish excitement. "Who is it?"

"Didn't take me as a bra kinda girl. Was thinking more spandex or a binder." Jaemin seethed, hands on hips, azure jersey hanging off his lithe frame.

"You're insufferable. Why are you here?" You groaned, choosing to ignore his taunt at your breast size. His eyes crinkled into upside down crescents, wandering lower to the dip of your frilly black bra.

"To see my favourite girl, of course." He whistled, eyes still glued to your unmarked expanse of skin. "I think those need a new owner." He pointed towards your chest.

"Preferably one whose face I can stand to look at."

"I'm roaring with laughter." You snarked, voice dripping with sarcasm, making no attempt to cover yourself up. Jaemin was still staring, face flushed a flaming cerise. "You gonna keep staring or are you gonna leave me alone?"

"I'm not staring. Why are you staring at me?" He shot defensively. Your eyes narrowed at him, watching his cheeks darken with every lingering stare.

"You're in the girl's changing room, drooling over two lumps of fat on the body of a girl that you hate. The real inquisition here is your lack of sensibility to stop thirsting after anything with a vagina."

Jaemin stayed silent, eyes boring holes into your full lips, tongue instinctively darting out to wet his own nimble, chapped ones. Rolling your eyes, you lead him to the door, hand clasped against the door handle.

Then, you heard loud footsteps approaching the room, incoherent rambling increasing in clarity. You began to conjure up a plan, wondering how on Earth you'd be able to kick Jaemin out without the girls knowing.

With the shouts of the team gradually getting closer, you panicked, chucking Jaemin into a locker.

"Fine, I'll leave! Lemme out!" He squirmed, trying to come out of the metal confines.

"You can't leave now, they're literally outside. Do you want to be stomped to death by Nike Mercurials?" You hissed, closing the door over, much to his protests.

"Don't wanna die with the last image being your breasts."

"If you survive this, I'll gladly provide you a new image."

He shut up at that, and you straightened, reaching for your jersey in a false calmness. The girls burst in, squeals of various greetings being thrown across the room.

You smiled gently at them, encouraging them to get changed, joining in to laugh at their jokes. The topic kept shifting from manicures to new boots before finally settling on Na Jaemin.

"Cap'n, what's going on with you and Jaemin?" One of the girls asked, batting her eyelashes softly. "A boy on the football team told me that you guys are dating."

Dating..that devil? A sin punishable by death! You repelled all instinct to shudder in disgust, instead choosing to maintain a neutral expression.

"I am absolutely not dating Na Jaemin. He's a despicable little mongrel and I'd rather eat my shoe—"

"Mon bébé chérie, why do you curse me like this?" Jaemin squeezed from the locker, voice like a wounded puppy.

"Did you hear that? I think it was—"

"No! It's my Jaemin impression. Isn't it so good?" You spluttered, voice rising in volume. You were sure that your face was a painful beetroot, breathing crazily as you over-exerted yourself.

"Cap'n, it was so good I almost thought Jaemin was in here with us!" She gushed, hands clasped. "You guys would be so cute together. Even if you don't like him, I think he most definitely has feelings for you."

The rest of the girls joined in at this, shouts of 'you should take a chance!' resounding in the hollow room. You'd already ruled out that as a possibility, chalking it down to his uncontrollable thirst for being a pest. Na Jaemin was your rival, the utter bane of your existence, a rodent that fed on robbing your spirits dry of any positivity.

"He'll get a chance when pigs fly." You muttered, noticing their eyes staring at you inquisitively, as if they knew something you didn't. Awkwardly, you smiled at the girls, ushering them towards the door, scanning the hallway after the last one had skipped out.

Jaemin untangled himself from the locker, straightening his limbs, pulling at his calves in a stretch. You peered over your shoulder, frown deepening at him.

"Did you mean what you said?" Jaemin breathed, walking into your personal bubble. He was way too close. His breath tickled your forehead, eyes dark with something you couldn't decipher.

He felt his heart pound against his chest, resisting the urge to pick the stray hair in your eye to the side. You were looking at him with a confused expression, nose scrunched, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to be the death of him. Devastated, he broke eye contact, feeling all forms of fight seep from his bones.

"You don't like me." You whispered, wincing at the wobble in your voice. "Everyone's just saying that....right?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"No. I want you to say no."

"I can't do that."

"Well, you have to say no. I don't want to hear the rest of your sentence — keep us as just this." You softly yelled, pointing between the pair of you. "Don't change anything."

"Okay. I'll leave, but only because you want me to. But, before I go..you've gotta start being more observant." He sighed, ruffling your hair before making his way out.

"I’m plenty observant. Wouldn’t be a good player if I wasn’t.”

"I’ll see it when I believe it. Oh, and the thing you said about pigs flying..”

“What about it?”

“Renjun’s working on it.”

You laughed heartily, locking the door behind you. So, Jaemin did in fact think of you as his Aphrodite — all those nicknames were genuinely created out of affections. 'Mon bébé chérie' held a lot more emotional weight than it did twenty minutes ago, and you had to breathe before your eyes prickled with saltine tears.

Fresh air hit you like a loaded delivery truck, Mother Nature delicately wiping the tears from your eyes, shaking you with a cold flourish, roaring your cheeks to life. The team had already started their warm-up drills, as opposed to the boys' football team who were cooling down from their jog.

You ran over, tightening your ponytail, shifting into 'Captain' mode. The coach pushed you into the circle, encouraging you to take the reins. "Team, we've been doing nothing but straight work. Let's make this session count before the match tomorrow." You shouted, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline.

The team chanted back, settling into their positions for the first drill — a penalty shoot out. You stepped to the ball, striding back to gain a better angle, socks hugging your knees.

Giving yourself a five second countdown, you charged at the ball, foot pointed, kicking it with a passion that rivalled Lionel Messi. It rolled in the back of the net, flying past Hyejoo, who could barely even process it.

"Still got those fire feet, I see, Cap'n!"

"Lady Luck gave them to me for a reason." You boasted, smugness slapped all over your face.

From the corner of your eye, Jaemin snickered, winking at you when you turned to make eye contact. At least he had the audacity to keep up appearances in front of everyone, even if you had probably made everything awkward.

"My granny could kick better than that, babes!" He boomed from across the pitch, teasing smirk on his lips.

"Your granny lives in a retirement home and still calls on you 'Nana Banana'..it's not very nice to lie." You retorted, eyes narrowed, nearing his hunched form.

"Doesn't mean she can't kick your ass. Granny was a little Aguero back in the day."

"She can't if I'm the Manè, can she?"

"But I'm a Modric. I'll beat your ass, any day, any time." He grinned, leaning in to you. "In any way you want."

You heard blood pumping in your ears, your cheeks filling with immense heat. He grabbed your cheeks softly, grinning even wider when you flushed even warmer, a human sauna. Pushing a lock out of your eyes, he searched your eyes for any sense of rage, face softening at your lack of that emotion.

"Any..way..I want?" You mouthed silently, innuendo catching your attention again as you mulled over the words. "Na Jaemin, you're a dirty boy."

"I think you're the dirty girl." He hummed, saying the next sentence in an octave that made your head spin, quietly enough that only the two of you could hear. "Sauntering around in your little Victoria's Secret bra, cozying up to me without even batting an eyelash or covering up."

"These boobs are mine. I'm allowed to show them to anyone I want."

"So you admit to showing them to me? You admit that you were trying to put on a show for me?" He pressed, purposely craning his neck over you.

"I was trying to change. If you didn't come into the room like a little pervert, you'd never have gotten a visual of these."

"And yet I know how they look now. There's nothing that can erase that image."

"Fuck you, Na Jaemin."

"I think you meant to say fuck me, but I'll allow the slip-up just because I'm so nice." You squirmed under his predatory gaze, heat in your cheeks akin to a fever. "Better get back to training, Cap. Your team's got a match tomorrow."

You hissed at him weakly, choosing to walk away from his provocation, going back to the team, who were all smiling at you with a glint in their eye. By the looks on their faces, they'd definitely taken that exchange as a form of flirting.

Not that you were disputing it, of course.

The coach rounded the girls up, calling them to grab bibs. You relaxed, running over to take the last bib once you'd calmed down. Na Jaemin was a little toe-sucking, filthy mongrel who only knew how to charm his way out of everything — totally not your ideal type or anything.

His penance for being blunt coupled with that honeyed voice was what was throwing you off. Not your physical attraction to him. At least, you hoped so.

The shrill shriek of the whistle behind you shook you out of your mind, bringing your attention back to the practice game. With every shot at the goal, you could see Jaemin taunting you, making kissy faces.

After the first half, you weren't sure if it was real or if you were hallucinating — almost like a mirage, he was wearing that stupid little smirk and there was nothing more you wanted than to slap those lips clean off his face.

Soon enough, you clocked that it wasn't just an illusion, as he'd shifted to the opposite end of the pitch, the other boys from the football team watching from the stands.

They'd started jeering at every pass, exaggerating their reactions, commentary toeing the border of sexual harassment. You volleyed the ball on your foot, battering it into the stands, grinning widely as it hit one of the boys in the face, leaving his nose lopsided.

"If you're gonna be a sexist piece of shit, just fuck off. My team doesn't deserve to hear your brain-dead commentary, nor see your fuck face." You smiled, bite in your voice. "Kindly take the opinion that nobody asked for and shove it up your ass."

Jaemin's eyes twinkled with respect, breath caught in his throat at the dark look in your eyes. He felt his chest warm in adoration, heart doubling in size. "You heard the lady."

"Includes you too, Jaemin. Better get home before Granny Na starts missing her little boy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Fuck off." You said playfully, recovering the ball. He waved you bye, lugging his bag over his shoulder, fixing the collar of his jersey. A beam touched your lips, face lighting up.

Jaemin smirked back at you, taking his leave. He dragged the remnants away with him, leaving the girl's football team alone in the cooling dwindle of Autumn light.

"Nice shorts." A tug.

"Oh? Na Jaemin complimenting me?" You mused in surprise, arms folded across your chest.

"You didn't let me finish." Jaemin whispered, standing on the sidelines of the pitch, pulling at the hem of your shorts. "Ooh, I can see your stubble. Better bring out the razor."

Your jaw tightened, feeling that rush of annoyance fill your veins again. The nerve.

"More stubble than you'll ever grow on that chin."

"At least I'm not a human Sasquatch."

"I've got hair in the right places—" You started, catching the innuendo, glaring at Jaemin's raised eyebrows. "—I know what I meant. Don't be such a dirty boy."

"Say it again. Love the way it rolls off your tongue."

You gaped at him, whole body blowing a fuse, skin reddening at his tone. Sweltering heat danced atop each fingertip, each muscle, making you jolt. His gaze was still glued to your face, relishing the quickly dilating pupils in your eyes.

"I—"

"—Would rather have you speechless after our first time, not for your championship final. When you win, I'll buy you fucking adorable ice cream with the little star sprinkles that you like."

"Going to ignore you on that first statement, but the second one sounds like a motive."

"Win the match, and I'll ask you out. Properly."

You saw his eyes flash with something passionate, flakes of gooey molasses swirling behind the irises. Before you opened your mouth to reply to him, he pleaded silently for you to just take it as it was. "Gimme a chance. Who knows you better than your enemy? Nobody."

"I mean..."

"Only you know that my grandma calls me those corny names or that I see her all the time."

"Or that you lose every game that's not football because you're too lazy to pay attention." You added.

"And I know that you broke a guy's jaw because he was bothering Yangyang." He continued. "And I also know that you know one thing I've never told anyone."

"Ooh, what's that?"

"That I like you."

You looked away from him sheepishly, goosebumps popping up on your skin, and whether it was from the cold or from his words, you didn't know. He was looking down at you tenderly, ruffling your bed of hair, pressing a small, wet kiss to your forehead as the whistle blew.

"Don't play with fire, Na."

"You're more like a carpet burn."

You sighed, defeated. "Fine. I'll give you an answer when we win. If you're playing me, I'll break your arms."

"Okay. Go get 'em, Lady Luck." He smiled, waving you off as you scurried onto the pitch, face glowing under the fluorescent lights. Jaemin felt his chest tighten with pride, jaw aching from all the strenuous smiling.

With that absurdly contented face, you reminded him of a cross between a kid at a carnival and a man about to kill another. Your hair gathered wildly atop your head, a wicked glare painting your face.

This was you at peace, he deduced. Even with the gruesome of expressions, you looked calm. The pitch was truly your home away from home.

Two minutes into the second half saw you being carried off on a stretcher with a torn hamstring. You'd fallen to the grass, no sounds coming from your limp body. Jaemin swore he felt his heart plunge into his ass, and with a frantic flourish, he was coddling your head into his chest.

"Luck, don't die on me. I'm supposed to take you out for ice cream after this, and I stole Renjun's Baskin Robbins loyalty card to cut costs so if we don't go, I'll be getting beat up without having kissed your stupid face." He babbled, slapping your cheeks, scared that you'd genuinely lost your life.

You groaned, rolling slowly in the elastic. "Stop touching my face, I'll get acne." Mildly concussed, you soothed your throbbing headache, registering Jaemin's face looming over you. "Jaemin?"

"Oh, thank God. Thought I'd never see that unruly sparkle in your eyes again."

"Fuck off. My hamstring feels like a fried chicken mukbang and you're talking about my eyes."

"I can't cry before our first date. You'll think I'm a wimp."

"Already think that."

He hit your arm lightly, beaming at your focus on his face, meeting your eyes. You were glaring at him with a kissable pout on your lips, eyebrows furrowed — he wanted to pepper your face in balmy kisses.

The paramedic pushed him away, leading you to the ambulance. You flipped him off, yelling loudly as they wheeled you in, "Make sure you win! Won't forgive you if you don't."

The girl's football team had gathered around the door, all tight-lipped smiles and crumpled faces. They visibly brightened at your declaration, huddling together to recalibrate — the ref blew her whistle to call them back, summoning them back into position.

Yangyang and Donghyuck left the stands, rushing into the ambulance alongside you, closing the door behind them. Jaemin could faintly hear your loud curses, and sighed in relief, knowing that you'd be fine.

With two goals up, the team were at optimum working speed, playing loyally for your honour. Jaemin stood at the sidelines, holding your jacket in his hands as he recorded the match on his phone, wanting to send it to you later.

At 90 minutes, the girl's team had become the winner of the Division One Seoul Inter-district championship, and Jaemin was content. Not because it meant you'd go on that date with him, but because he could feel how much it meant to them.

Everyone around him was cheering madly, chanting and spraying assorted drinks in each other's faces, an infectious joy lingering in his veins. Amongst all the commotion, he'd somehow been pushed into the middle of the team, feeling their gazes boring into his frame.

"You like Cap'n, right?" The brunette said, eyes bright.

"No. I don't like her. She's my rival." Jaemin lied pathetically, trying to escape their judgement.

"Why were you in the locker room then?"

"Damn. How do you know that?"

"Cap'n is horrible at lying, so she's always upfront. She also cannot do an impression so she never attempts it."

"Wow, you guys sure know your stuff. Bet she's glad to have a team like you. I know I'm feeling a little jealous."

"Cut the smooth talk. If you like Cap'n, just be straightforward. She's more innocent than she seems, and can get her heart broken easily."

"Got it." He nodded, "Well...ladies, I have to thank you for the advice."

"No problem, but if you break her heart.." They chorused, "We'll break that pretty little nose." Fifteen studded feet swung at his face, narrowly skimming the bridge of his nose.

He flinched, caught off guard, grin bared. "Now, I definitely got that message. I'll be going to check up on her, what do you want me to say?"

"We've already called her and shown her the trophy, so we have nothing left to say, you, however...take all the time you need."

"Since I have your blessing, am I allowed to—"

"Don't finish that sentence. Keep in your lane."

Jaemin promptly closed his mouth, and bid them a goodbye, dashing into his car towards the hospital, stopping at Baskin Robbins to buy the ice cream he promised. He hoped you’d at least be able to eat the sprinkles (the ones you liked were expensive, and if you didn’t eat them, he’d just wasted an extra 2,500 won.)

In the hospital, you were now dressed in a medical gown, surrounded by the two idiots. It smelt like an experiment lab, and the spotless shades of ivory splashed on the walls made you feel a tad bit overwhelmed.

Your leg had already undergone the MRSI scan, and the nurses had told you that you’d definitely tore your hamstring, but surgery would fix it right up along with natural healing.

Of course, all those details lacked in comparison to your team finally winning the trophy you’d worked so hard towards — that excitement numbed the pain considerably.

“We thought you’d somehow died.” Yangyang confessed, grasping your hands in his clammy ones.

“You did.” Donghyuck sneered, pointing at him, continuing when he saw your face change in confusion. “Yang was convinced that you were invincible like Superman or something. He started blubbering about how you could definitely defeat the grim reaper in close contact and that should be enough to steal back your soul or whatever—”

“I’m just never going to ask questions again.”

“Jaemin was on the verge of a breakdown when he saw you fall. Never have I ever seen him run so fast towards a girl.” Donghyuck said, hand on chin in mock thought.

You blushed, remembering your promise about the ice cream and falling back into the bed in distress.

“What’s going on with you? I saw you two all friendly at the sidelines.” Yangyang murmured, eyes squinting in judgement. “Don’t tell me...you guys fucked before the game?”

Suddenly it was too hot in the room. You fanned yourself to cool down, slapping your own cheeks before pulling Yangyang’s ears. “Yeah, because I have the guts to just have my first time in a school setting.” You deadpanned.

“Naughty girl.” Both boys swooned, unable to note your sarcasm.

“Just because my leg is gone doesn’t mean I can’t harm you anymore. I’ll break your kneecaps.”

In the midst of your fight with your best friends, you spotted Jaemin opening the door, wearing that greasy smirk that made butterflies tickle your throat.

“I see a broken leg isn’t enough to stop you, is it?” Jaemin drawled from the door, hands behind his back. “Still threatening people?”

“It’s not threatening if they deserve it.” You mumbled, suddenly shy. Jaemin maintained his distance from you, arm outstretched, ice cream tub in hand. He was looking away from you, faint blush tinting his cheeks, lips squeezed in a puffy ‘o’.

“Not that I remembered or anything, but you did say something about liking these sprinkles.” He said, eyes darting around to focus on anything but you.

“I do...like these sprinkles..how did you know?”

“Everyone calls you star, and you’re cute. It’s your personality in an edible sugar shape.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, forgetting both Donghyuck and Yangyang were seated in the room. It felt like the two of you were just stuck in your own world, glaring at each other like a pair of lovers.

Unfortunately, that moment was cut short by your ungracious best friends, cooing annoyingly. They were squealing like little girls, incomprehensible screams of ‘our girl’s grown up!’ scraping your eardrums.

“Leave me alone!” You whined, face scrunched in discomfort, making futile attempts to push them away. “Jaemin...please get these two off me.”

“Asking your boyfriend to get rid of us? Already?” Yangyang hollered, one of Jaemin’s arms stopping him from jumping on you again.

“He’s not my boyfriend. As of now, he’s the only sensible one who isn’t mauling the girl with a broken leg, and that’s why I’m asking him for help.”

“Should I throw them out?”

“Yes —actually, do whatever. Let them go terrorise someone that isn’t me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

On that, Jaemin escorted both boys outside, shutting the door on them, cutting off the beginning to their long-winded rant with a smile. That left the two of you alone.

Oddly enough, the silence wasn’t stifling but rather a conversation of the mind — you were able to see what he wanted to say by looking into those mocha coloured eyes. You threw the ice cream tub in the bin, reaching for Jaemin’s hands shyly.

He’d sat down beside you on the bed, just staring at you like you were an abstract painting, a mosaic of a splendid array, unable to take his eyes off you. He took your hand warmly, running his fingers over your calloused knuckles, sharing his heat with you.

“Jaemin.” You yawned, head falling onto his shoulder. “I’m saying yes to your date. If I didn’t get injured, you could’ve taken me out today, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. Being with you is enough for me, even if I do want to comment on your horrible tackles during the match.” Jaemin teased, grabbing your hand a little tighter.

“Haha...I’m dying of laughter.”

“Hey! None of that here.”

“Sorry. I’m just happy. My team won our first championship, which we’ve been trying to do for three years, and I feel on top of the world. All those years of boys being absolute dickheads to us about our abilities, trying to put us down have amounted to this moment. I’m at peace right now.”

“Don’t apologise. I should be sorry instead. It was easier to talk to you if I pretended I hated you. I shouldn’t have been like that.”

“I accept your apology. But..I think it was cute you couldn’t tell me you liked me! That’s so endearing.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s my line! Well, you were always attractive to me, even when you were being a dickhead. Now that I think about it, you’re at your hottest when you’re being mean.”

“Is that so?” Jaemin mused, rolling onto his hands, dangling over you, lips eerily close to your own. “Do you want me to treat you mean, keep you keen?”

“Firstly, don’t ever say that again.” You stopped him, hand placed on his chest to push him away lightly. “Secondly, I’ve never had a boyfriend or my first kiss. That means no experience.” You slurred that last part, rushing the words so he wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Cap’n, you’re telling me that I’ll be your first?”

“Not if you don’t ask me out.”

Jaemin sat back beside you, looking up to the ceiling. This was the moment. He took a deep breath, standing up before you, hands rubbing his stomach softly to calm down.

“I wanted to do a real dramatic confession, but I rushed over here in fear that you wouldn’t be able to hit me again, so I’ll have to stick with my speech.” He cheesed, trying to ease himself of his nerves. You laughed, hissing in mock anger when he wore that stupid grin. “I like you. Like a lot. Sometimes, I come to school with a dirty scowl on my face, but then I see your face and start smiling like a love struck fool. You’re someone that I wouldn’t want to lose.”

“Jaemin, you little mongrel. Come here.” You waved him over, arms outstretched in a hug. “Even though I know your ego won’t let you ask me out properly, I would love to be your girlfriend. However, if my heart is broken..I’ll be stoning your car.”

“Thought you were gonna say that you’d break my face.”

“That too.”

He snuggled closer into you, peering up at you with shining eyes, not wanting to move too much to keep you comfortable. You grinned back at him, placing a soft kiss on his head, running a hand through his hair.

That familiar silence returned, and that’s how you fell asleep with Na Jaemin enveloped in your chest. Although you’d broken a leg, Lady Luck seemed to have twiddled her fingers to send you a ‘get well soon’ present, the ever cunning Na Jaemin.

Five months later had you no longer hobbling around on crutches like a hobbit, but walking proud and tall. Jaemin drove you to school (using the excuse of carpooling) and helped you take your books to first period everyday — the alpha male in him winced seeing you attempt any ‘heavy lifting’, and he’d made it a routine.

“Can you fuck off? I can carry this.” You complained, pinching his side. “Just because I see a physio biweekly doesn’t mean I’m about as able-bodied as a monkey.”

“Got the hair to be a monkey.” He snorted.

“Look who’s talking, Mr.Sasquatch. Bigger feet than his prints, you little scoundrel.”

“Big feet means big—”

“Don’t finish that if you wanna keep the body part in question.”

“—heart. Dirty girl.”

You felt the honey pooling in your stomach, kissing his cheek in haste to escape his relentless teasing. He shut up at that, pulling you back to kiss you properly, attracting the attention of everyone in the hallway.

“Get to class.” He announced as he parted from you, enjoying your petulant face. You hit him softly, flipping him off from behind you, blowing him a kiss.

Ah, Na Jaemin. You still hated him. Just a little less this time.

[bebeimagine]

⚠️T.W⚠️ sexual abuse

Dear mum,

I have a few things that I need to say. It's not going to be easy to explain it and it's not going to be easy for you to understand. I don't need you to write me back or to call. I need to tell you why I was and why I am who Iam now standing in front of you.

The first time I tired to kill myself was when I was 9 years old. I use to take dad's strong painkillers but it never worked. I always had this feeling that something was wrong with me. I was broken in a way that I didn't understand.

I have figured it out. I've been talking to my therapist about this and I was so worried that i wouldn't be believed that this was all my fault and this gulit that I've carried is all mine.

I remember what happened that day, the day that everything kind of changed inside of me. It was me and caroline and her step dad.

I've only been there 4 times which I remember. Once was to see some really cute kittens, once where he stroked my ponytail and gave me coleslaw with raisins in it. Once when Caroline showed me what she does under the covers and the last time was the incident.

I don't want you to think the worse and I was OK. But I need to get this out of me.

Me and her was laid on the carpet floor in front of the TV and he was in the sofa behind us. He called for her to come to him and she straddled his leg. He was stroking her face and she was rubbing herself on him then she was sat on his lap moving back and forth. I thought it was a bit weird and carried on with my colouring.

He called me over and asked me to sit on his knee with both my legs either side and told me to move back and forth. He kisses me on my mouth and ran his hands over my hair down my neck over my chest to my legs.

I looked at Caroline and she said it's OK you will like it.

Things are a little confusing here and I don't really remember the details but I know at some point at the end me and her was between his legs and was holding his genitals and stroking it. He told us to lick it, use our mouths and she did and I was watching. She was showing me what to do. Then this stuff was everywhere he told me to eat it but I didn't like it and she finished eating it.

I know he didn't rape me and I know he didn't hurt me. He wasnt violent or horrible like you imagine a person that is capable of that was like. He spoke softly and was gentle and I wasn't scared I just knew it was wrong.

I don't remember seeing him again but I remember you telling Helen that he was arrest for doing stuff to Caroline and he use to pay her a pound when she went there for the weekend. I remember you saying about the jelly babies being in the tree and then she had to show them what he was doing.

I remember I was shaking on the inside and i was going to go to prison too. I remember feeling it was my fault and that what happened was so bad so so bad that means I'm a bad person too.

Looking back and talking to the therapist she explained to me that how I was feeling is normal. I even worried about me becoming like that too, because you hear that most people that was abuse as a children go on and abuse, becoming the abuser.

Anyway this letter wasn't ment to make you feel bad or for you to feel sorry for me. I just needed to tell you. And maybe it will make sense why I was the way I was. Not making excuses but now I understand why I dont like certain things why I felt left out and I wasn't in control of my feelings. Why I pushed the boundaries trying to figure out will that happen again if I was a bad.

This was my biggest secret that I've keep telling myself wasn't true. But I'm stronger now and can say it did.

I'm sorry if this has upset you. But I'm OK. It doesn't affect me like it does in movies or books, and think that's because it wasn't violent and it only happened once as I can remember.

Thank you for reading this.

[thedogsled]

You seem to be having a not a great day today, so here's a light-hearted ask. I'm having a good day, curled up in pjs with cuddly pets watching Leverage with my sister. Leverage is one of my favorite shows, because it's smart and fun and has great characters that grow over the seasons. Besides Supernatural, what's a show you really enjoy and why?

Thank you so much for the ask! I’m sorry I didn’t reply to it sooner, I’ve come down with a head cold and this is really the first day in several I’ve been able to compose more than a tweet about how much it sucks (swallowing = a knife jammed right into my inner ear, it’s super fun). But I did want to answer your question so I’ve been musing on it since your ask came in.

If it was just “what’s your favorite show right now” it’d be an easy answer: The Boys. The Boys, back to front, front to back, upside down and inside out. The first season was fantastic, and it felt like it woke me up to being excited about TV again after my interest in The Walking Dead waned mid-season. Everything new has seemed very plastic recently, and even The Mandalorian, which is super cool, is kind of like the Cartoon Network dub of Dragonball Z, so Disneyfied in its bloodlessness that although I’m enjoying it it feels even more synthetic as a result. The Boys was the opposite of that, and also just whoever invented Karl Urban, period, just deserves a nobel prize for that masterpiece. He pronounces twat wrong (okay okay it’s a dialect thing) but you can’t have everything =D

So instead (and because it’s cheating that I can pimp The Boys and wax lyrical about loves of old) I interpret your question as sort of like “Which show is your comfort food?” Which show do I go back to when I’m feeling like TV needs to give me a cuddle. I had a good think about it, because there’s a few…

(aside: I shouldn’t have put that gif in before I started writing. ahem.)

There’s been a few over the years, for sure. As a thirteen year old I used to watch and rewatch Buffy episodes, mostly season 2 (baby Spike!). At eighteen, it was old VHS of Deep Space Nine, my favorite ep was “Wrongs Darker Than Death or Night” which I watched repeatedly and think about constantly even today. 

But the show I keep coming back to is due South.

This post is a long post, it also deals with discourse (because my relationship to entertainment is so often mired in it, so please don’t proceed if you’re rather avoid it) and this is where it begins:

Okay, so fun fact: I watched due South the first time it aired with my parents (I was about 9) and then when it was on TV again as a repeat, I recorded it on VHS by RUSHING home every single day from school with nothing else on my mind but sitting on the floor two feet from the telly to watch it. Quantum Leap was on right after, and I had an entire different set of VHS tapes to record that on, so had to quickly switch between them. I’d stop recording at every break so that I could get more episodes on a tape. It’s not unsurprising to me now that both shows vibed with me as a young person who hadn’t yet really accepted that she was queer; due South’s main character is coded as Other both to the Americans whom he lives with, and his fellow Canadians, while Quantum Leap explores a straight white man jumping into the lives of Others, and living through them some of the hardest moments in their lives. Even though both keep it exceedingly, textually hetero, one has two men riding off into the snowy sunset together (leaving behind a straight lover to do so) and the other features a love between two men that in the original framing of the finale would have seen God/fate reconnecting the two of them even though one was lost in time, and the partner’s wife begging him to go.)

Of course young me didn’t give a shit about that, or didn’t realize that’s what she cared about. Young me loved the buddy-cop partnership of both shows. Young me liked the half-wolf, and the episodes where they ride horses, and honestly just waiting with bated breath to find out where Sam would jump to this time. “Oh boy!” Retrospectively, these shows (especially QL) are a lot more oh boy in a yikes context now than they used to be, but it’s good that shows age into yikes territory because it means that society is steadily advancing. Particularly, pointing out that these shows both feature white straight guys like…welcome to the nineties.

I was introduced to queer coding in part by watching due South. The show is laden with it. With writers, actors, and ultimately an executive producer who was all three, it makes you wonder if they would have gone there if they could; certainly the ending reads that way. They couldn’t, of course, because it was the nineties (and it was CBS that revived it after enormous international fan demand). Still, there was just nothing else analogous to what we have now that was going there on TV at the time. If you were queer (or discovering your queerness) then watching the show meant everything, as it did to me. So I snuggle up on the couch often these days and go back to that, because it gave me such joy, and because I was left with the opportunity to decide for myself how deep the relationship was. There was no promise of anything, because the context at the time was of course you can’t go there, nobody can go there. Queerbaiting was a word that simply hadn’t been breathed. There was no intent, no companies behind the curtain pulling strings going “Yes, make it more gay, we want those queer dollars”, just invested people slipping what they could past the studio censors.

Like this:

Sigh. A less enlightened time. =P (Incidentally fun meta here but this was after a conversation where Ray suggested that communication in a relationship should be intuitive, like breathing.)

So I guess in part I escape back there because none of that representation was ever as loaded as it is today. It doesn’t require me to judge it, or weigh it against the harm it does - because the politics of the time meant I thought it was doing good (retrospectively, and only through the lens of someone who had nothing to lose). It seemed to scream out into an unyielding universe to force it to move. It did a fraction of that, because of course it did. It was the nineties. It stole indigenous narratives and romanticized colonialism just as much as it beat the drum of environmentalism and kicked at the doors of corporate greed and racism. Old shows are inherently problematic. Today’s shows are too. Being able to examine them doesn’t mean not loving them, but it lets you say “Okay, so what do I expect from the things I watch today? What do I expect from the things I watch in five years time?”

All that aside, the show is just damn good. It’s watchable and rewatchable. It struggles to age because it was already so out of pace with the age it was made in–despite its flaws in representation, it was better than other shows at the time that demonized, tokenized, or outright killed minorities to push white narratives on their own shows (Kendra being murdered on Buffy, for example). It’s standalone enough that you can go back and watch any episode you like because overarching story arcs were way less of a staple as they are today.  It’s witty, fast paced, full of action and moral dilemma, do gooding and the consequences of it. Although still severely unbalanced, and very, very white, it did still have indigenous actors playing indigenous characters, and minorities portrayed in stories about them. There’s a dog. There’s classic cars. And it’s all put to the soundtrack of Canadian bands and singers. 

tl;dr ahead for rambling about subtext and being a disaster queer, but please scroll past for more gifs.

Queer me needed this show, in a world where I’d been taught to look and see myself in straight white male protagonists, it felt like A Lot to see all this on screen. It wasn’t, but it was all I got when I was growing up. I envy the good fortune of kids who can see themselves on screen these days while they try and figure themselves out (and hopefully more so in the future) with far less of having to negotiate through the confusion of looking at it through confusing fractals of different lenses and instead just see someone who looks like them showing them that their POV is normal, heroic and wonderful. Those lenses fucked me up big time. Like I’m not even sure right now what flavor of queer I am. I cling to bi like a lifeline of sense in my life, but it is complicated because I overwhelmingly desire the company of women way way more. But also I was was taught to look through the lens of a white dude in order to see myself universally, taught to be both desirous of the female body and humiliated by it, ashamed by sex, taught men were awful, and taught that I was supposed to marry one anyway. I look at my sexuality/romanticism like it’s a meta puzzle that I haven’t figured out yet, wondering how to put it on paper, how to break apart the different influences I experienced as a youngling and as an adult to try and negotiate if I’m misreading my own impulses. How I was brought up, who I’ve known, the relationships I’ve experienced and seen in real life and on TV. I’m 34 and I’m still no more certain. Subtext is both my friend and my enemy. I hate it, and I owe everything to it.

So when I need a rest from giving a shit about any of that noise, I go back to my comfort food. I go right back to subtext, which gave me the tools I needed to desire romance that wasn’t heterosexual, that somehow was more intimate because it relied on longing stares and never stepping foot out of the closet, that was just someone liking another person without any expectation of sex just because they have opposing genitals, and their colleagues hassle them a lot. There’s nothing wrong with the sex, I write a lot of consommation of the feelings that I see bubbling under the surface. I have even grown to appreciate het romance when it’s done in a way that doesn’t reduce the woman to a love interest–I was thrilled when Simon Baker’s Patrick Jane got together with Teresa Lisbon in The Mentalist. Their relationship was filled with subtext too. Subtext isn’t a queer thing, it has a role in all well written romance. Hell, it has a role in terriblebad tropey misogynistic romance, too. And just you know basically all storytelling (and more). 

Queer romance existing only in the subtext, though? It’s heartbreaking explicitly because it feels like a story that isn’t finished, and that’s where subtext reliant shows can hand off the story to be finished by fandom itself. In due South, as I mentioned before, Ray and Fraser jump into a dogsled and ride off over the snowy horizon to “Find the hand of Franklin, reaching for the Beaufort sea”. It’s where I chose my meta name, as I’ve mentioned before, because that ending - that ending - handed us all the subtext so far and said “Here, take it, it’s yours now. Do with it what you like”–and we did. But that was twenty years ago. I loved that ending (I still think it was a very elegant solution) and it was expected and appropriate for a show that in itself is a “Faves Are Problematic” show, but that’s also why I get so passionate about discussing the subtext in Supernatural.

It’s younger than due South. While it may have begun back when Willow from Buffy had her first girlfriend, it is ending now, not at the turn of the century where a dogsled was still good enough to get the point across and none of us had Twitter. My own experiences, my lifelong queer confusion make it so I feel pretty damn bad for people trying to use Supernatural as a medium for their own self-exploration, using characters from SPN as their lenses. A show these days that makes bank on those tropes and doesn’t inform its audience (positively or negatively) is doing so irresponsibly because of the modern context in which the show presently (not historically) sits, and the increasing awareness of the issues surrounding it. Networks, then, are ultimately responsible for that, but they are in a way which is entirely different and far more directly culpable than they were 20 years ago, because people are out there making money out of those intentional subtextual devices. They chose to do it; took a deep breath and backed right up away from Gamble’s problematic queerbashing tropes, chewed it over, then hired gay writers and dived right back in with more grown up, progressive, and less shitty subtext–but still subtext. 

This show that ended 20 years ago was able to cross way more lines with subtext in one episode than Supernatural has done sometimes in an entire season. It did so despite and because of it’s international audience, on a conservative network that would late purchase Paramount, and Star Trek, and ended with a powerfully subtextual ending. Supernatural, of course, is under a far more powerful microscope from the bigots than those oblivious to subtext back in the 90s could have ever produced. due South, like SPN was just “wholesome family entertainment” to a conservative audience that was completely oblivious by all accounts, yet was laden heavily with queer innuendo. It was also blissfully short, and existed in a social media world which consisted of Yahoo groups and not much else. 

In modern context, Supernatural gets a fox in the henhouse treatment from that same audience, and acts accordingly (when it’s not using that same subtext to deliver earnest Fuck You’s to that audience). While I expect Supernatural to bravely - even considering this scrutiny - deliver a dogsled subtextual ending on a good day, there are bad days, too, because the queer subtext has been underlined so loudly that everyone can see it, because it’s “practically text”, because the bottom line is increasingly more concerned with satisfying those bigots (even while they mock them), and because queer fans are “too loud” about what they want. How dare they. /s The pushback caused by being loud about things you care about, the bigots actually seeing subtext in front of their noses, isn’t bad because now they know what we’ve been doing all along, and we won’t be able to get away with it any more; it means they’re becoming more aware of narratives other than their own. Yes, some people will push back, but “when you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression”, and they can shove it right up their asses.

All I ever ask of myself when I interrogate my present day viewing experience, is this: when I sat as a youngster watching due South thinking “This subtextual ending is enough for me”, did I truly believe it was okay to be watching a show about two white guys with a subtextual ending 20 years later? Was that the future I dreamed of and aspired to? Would I be disappointed? The answer is yes, I am disappointed. No matter the whys, the fundamental and societal reasons–I am disappointed. I still love the show probably more than I should, but I am disappointed in the society it sits in - which is increasingly capitulating to far more powerful global financial powers than a couple of red state homophobes - and I’m disappointed in the way we’re treating each other for even caring, and I’m disappointed in myself, too, for being naive and imagining we would be much further down this road now than we are. But we are a capitalistic society, and being both the commodity and the customer should be a surprise to literally nobody at this point. It doesn’t mean you have to like it.

And if you don’t feel that way, that’s okay. We all come from different places. We have different perspectives. We need and want different things, for different reasons, and find joy in different things for different reasons. Variety of opinion is as much a wonderful thing as it is completely terrifying.

I’ve wandered somewhat off topic, so I’m going to go back to the show I love, my chocolate pudding and custard comfort food TV show, and the long stares and the beautiful uncomplicated subtext.

And sign off with half a dozen gifs.

Eye fucking:

Conversations in closets and bathrooms:

Going down with the ship

Intuitively understanding each other without a word spoken

His hobbies humiliate me in public

“Do you find me attractive?”

Sulking in the corridor while you reunite with your ex

This whole ep with original Ray:

And his wolf approving of both

Not pictured “I love you” “And I you”, “Get out of the closet”, actual hand holding when it’s unnecessary, formally handcuffing your buddy, getting stuck in an ice crevasse and a mini submarine together–and so so much more. I invite you to watch the show if you can find it (I have it on a really nice set of DVDs, but there’s some dodgy ones out there that look like they recorded the DVD straight off a VHS, so do check reviews) or else try and find it online. There was a Canada promoting YouTube channel which published both due South and shows like Slings and Arrows, which I recommend as well (It’s not actually bury your gays if the ghost of your gay best friend haunts you, right?) so you should be able to poke around and find a legit copy somewhere. I’ve bigged it up and talked it down, and wandered a long way off topic (that describes my relationship with every show, but especially when I recommend them) but I hope somewhere along the line I also answered the question. The way I hear it Leverage is a similar sort of comfort food, though I haven’t seen it. Sounds like I should put it on my To Watch list.

[valehirvas]

Hi! I need help understanding what Is gender dysphoria from a transsexual perspective because I'm confuse at my own experiences and the doctors I've seen viewerd dysphoria as only wanting to/believing you are the opposite sex and nothing more

I’m not an expert on this obviously, all I’ve got is just my own experience.

For me, it’s primarily a strong desire and a feeling of “should be” about male sex characteristics. As a child, I would often cry in my bed looking forwards in my life thinking it was already over because I wasn’t a boy, not because being a girl to me was bad in itself - I didn’t view it as limitating or see myself as lesser in any shape or form, I just didn’t feel like my body was as it should have been and the thought of never physically becoming a boy was crushing to me. This came along with various stupid childish misadventures like trying to learn to pee like a boy to feel more comfortable: let’s just say that one ended up in a disaster. I also quite classically tried to explain to my mother how I felt - that I wasn’t like a “girl girl”, I was more a boy girl. Something like that.

I didn’t have social dysphoria at this stage, because I’m very privileged in the sense that my parents and most adults around me allowed me to be exactly who I was, and those who found me disagreeable and too boyish never explicitly made it a gender issue, so I was blissfully unaware of the idea that girls weren’t supposed to act the way I was acting. I was very much a tomboy, but I was never made to feel like this was a bad thing, it was just who I was. I was in a lot of minor trouble often because of how active and curious I was as a kid, but nothing worse than doing what other adventurous kids were getting up to. For example, we liked breaking into the sewer system to chase frogs. Our parents HATED it, for obvious reasons. Things like that. But these were hardly things that only boys got into, and my friend group was rather equally split between the sexes at the time, so yeah, no, my social dysphoria did not exist at this time.

With puberty, things got a lot rougher. It’s tough to tell how much of it was because of dysphoria and how much of it was because of abuse in my life; I was targeted by a school teacher who made my life hell and triggered my depression at the ripe old age of 11, and ever since things were just really difficult for me.

I was still struggling with wanting to be a boy; I only had male role models, only male ideals of what I wanted to grow up to be, in terms of media and idols. I desperately wanted facial hair. Meanwhile, I was being raised by a single mother, and my experience with men was dreadful, and puberty chased off my male friends so I was left living in an all-female bubble, pretty much. I didn’t feel separate from it, but I was certainly different. My friends went down a more traditionally feminine path while I was a clusterfuck of alternative fashion and obscure interests.

My biggest “oh” moment was when I was about 12 years old and for the first time approached my mom to buy my own set of clothes - I’d secretly wanted to dress up as one of the boys for a long time, but this was the first time I really got to try it out. Being a skater was in because this was the early 2000s, so I bought a large t-shirt and a pair of skate shoes, and yes, a skateboard, and when I looked into the mirror like that, I felt like I was in heaven. I felt like things were finally going right and that this was who I wanted to be, that this was who I was supposed to be.

When I was 14, I met my first trans person. I had a terrible crush on him, he was a couple years older than me and identified as an FtM. The year was, what, 2005? I knew instantly that I was the same as him, but it scared me so badly I swore off ever thinking about it again, and that I’d just live as a woman like I was meant to be, because he was extremely suicidal and abused alcohol and drugs, and I didn’t want to die like that. It just seemed like the worst outcome - I knew I was like that, too, but I didn’t want that future. I was afraid if I’d accept how I felt, I’d end up killing myself like he’d tried to do so many times already. So I went DEEP into the closet.

I struggled a lot with relationships, being viewed as a girlfriend and treated as such, like my partners telling me they loved how I looked, touching my body, appreciating it as a female body. I told my first love that I wanted to go by the name of Gabriel, and that I felt like a boy inside, but that was as far as I went. I was 15 at the time. Around the same age I got sent to a group home because the social services were struggling with me (I wasn’t attending school due to my depression and various other mental disorders, and they needed to get me off their books asap). There, I was assigned men’s deodorant because they were out of women’s, and I never went back from there. Little things like that just made me feel so much better in my own skin. Now I at least smelled like a guy. It felt heavenly. In this same place, my supervisor was a nice young woman who borrowed me movies to watch. One of them was Boys Don’t Cry. Let’s just say I was pretty badly traumatized by that, and went ever deeper in the closet, because once more I knew that I was exactly what was portrayed on the screen but the reality of it was... well, I’d either kill myself or be murdered. Nobody wants that. So yeah, there.

Afterwards I went hyperfeminine but also became incredibly toxic because of how bad I felt in my own skin - I was extremely unstable, but at least I was playing my role right, right? I was suppressing how I really felt and trying to force myself into some weird caricature of a woman to spare myself from a painful death.

I used to do a lot of larping as an older teen and a young adult. When I was 18, one of my girlfriend’s characters was transsexual, and I went looking for information about the condition, you know, having the excuse of just “doing research”. That was the turning point. It was so comforting to know that I wasn’t alone, that this was something other people had gone through, too. That I didn’t have to live like this forever.

The things that bothered me most were the fact that I couldn’t grow facial hair, and my chest, which has always been very large. I’ve never had particularly bad dysphoria about the shape and size of my body, and I coped with genital dysphoria by packing, but the fact that I couldn’t grow a beard was the worst thing in the world to me. I went through a year of self-searching and research, during which my girlfriend left me because, duh, she’s a lesbian and I’d just come out as a trans man and it just wasn’t working out anymore, but she stuck by my side to help me become who I wanted to be, and fuck if it wasn’t working. Embracing the way I’d felt and doing the things that helped me feel better - like wearing the kinds of clothes that gave me that sense of comfort and rightness, and binding my chest - helped me to such a big degree that I stopped being completely fucking awful as a person. I stopped flipping out at the smallest of triggers and slamming doors and shouting and being an absolutely unbearable piece of shit, and my ex has repeatedly told me how good it felt seeing me become so much happier before her eyes. I practically changed as a person when I started my transition, first socially and then eventually medically, I became a very calm and difficult to irritate kind of an individual instead of the mess I’d been the years before. And I don’t mean “changed as a person” like I adopted a different personality, just that I stopped being blinded with anger and self-hatred at all hours of the day and lashing out at anyone who dared to love me as I was because I couldn’t.

Starting medical transition scared the shit out of me, because I’ve always been afraid of permanent changes. I nearly ran out of my tattoo appointment last minute because the idea of being marked forever killed me, and I only have one piercing that I can take out without leaving a visible scar for that reason. So obviously, taking that step was horrifying to me, but after doing my time looking into my soul and reflecting on my needs and desires for a year, attending some councelling and in general looking into what I really wanted from my life, I finally entered the diagnostic process, which here took at the time six months at the very least and included a lot of more thorough examinations like a psychological evaluation, chromosomal check and even an IQ test to make sure I was capable of consenting to the treatments.

Testosterone was a gift from gods in how much it eased my dysphoria. I ended up quitting it eventually because of how much it messed with my mental disorders like anxiety, and worsened my psychosis, but in terms of how much more at ease I became with my body, I can’t thank it enough. Seeing my body grow more hair on it, even some of that facial hair I’d always wanted, was blissful. Having my voice drop was comforting and comfortable, and I was excited to practice it and get back my range for singing and speaking, and that whole period of changes was just so good to me. I can’t describe it any other way. My dysphoria’s never come back since I stopped, because the changes that happened were those that I’d so desperately needed the whole time. I never got top surgery because of weight limitations placed on it, and this was an enormous source of pain for me for a long time, but I’ve learned to cope with it now. I’m getting along with my boobs because they’re just a part of my body, that is, unless they start growing cancer which does run in the family, and I’m never not suspicious of them for that reason.

It’s just, it’s hard to describe the story of my dysphoria without telling you all of this. It’s not just one or two things, it’s a history of a lifetime, little things that are good and this grand shadow that follows you around and makes everything more painful and difficult to endure because it’s already weighting you down. The terror of realisations and going back in the closet, but also the unmatched comfort and feeling of finally being how you were meant to be when you see yourself more akin to the picture in your head.

There’s a lot that I’ve left out, and not much of this is probably very helpful, but it is what it is.

[ashilleong-blog]

Custom Plumbing or The Trouble with Testicles.

When Crawley first took human form he didn't bother with genitals. He didn't eat, drink or breed so he didn't see much point in adding a bit of kit that was bound to get in the way. Otherwise he'd modelled his human body on the angels and humans he saw, and assumed the angels hadn't bothered with the dangly bits either.

He hadn't been entirely right about that.

Crawley got his first set of genitals thanks to Aziraphale. 

It had been early on, and while they hadn't exactly been on friendly terms Aziraphale wasn't as openly hostile as the other angels had been. Plus the whole thing with the sword had been pretty hilarious.

Aziraphale was particularly entertaining and non-hostile when he was sloshing around an animal bladder full of fermented something that humans had made.

"They make it for ceremonies and the like. It's absolutely divine." Aziraphale screwed his face up. He seemed to be having trouble getting his features under control. "No, not actually divine. But good. Not 'Good' good. Enjoyable! You'll like it. "

The angel certainly had looked like he was having a good time, and this fermented stuff undoubtedly made Crawley's job easier when the humans drank it. Eventually Crawley found himself tempted to try a swig. It hasn't taken all that much tempting to be perfectly honest.

And another.

And several more after that.

The next morning he was left with only a handful of hazy memories. Aziraphale bopping completely out of time with the drumming. The pair of them sitting on a log overlooking the big fire, laughing hysterically at something he couldn't quite remember. He thought he might have fallen off the log at some point. Crawley remembered explaining to Aziraphale about the stars but had the distinct impression of doing a less than stellar job of it, mostly because he forgot where he started and what he was actually talking about. Few memories, but the definite impression of having one of the best nights of his life.  

But by Heaven he was paying for it now. 

There was a funny taste in his mouth, like something had died in there. The drums from last night pounded away behind his eyes, which he kept firmly closed because the morning sun was out to kill him.

"Is this what Hell feels like?" The voice came from somewhere off to his right, and soundeda bit like Aziraphale if the angel had tried to gargle rocks.

"Hnurgh," Crawley replied with all the articulation he could muster. He wasn’t sure if he'd fallen off the log or not, but he clearly hadn't made it very far judging by the blessed thing digging into his arse. Crawley also felt uncomfortably full, low in his pelvis. It was a steady, insistent sensation that he’d never felt before. He'd also never felt the strange stiffening sensation in that part of his body because...

.. body part?

Crawley must've got sand in his eyes, because they felt like gravel when he opened them. He looked down. He squealed.

Aziraphale groaned. "Be gone foul beast."

"Aziraphale!" Crawley croaked urgently "What the Heaven happened last night? I've got... I've got..." 

Aziraphale's face appeared from the other side of the log. He looked like he'd been run over by a herd of goats. The angel blinked several times, and then looked at the offending body part.

"It's just a penis, Crawley. About half the humans have one," he said, resting his forehead on the log.

"I don't. Didn't. Where'd it come from?" 

Aziraphale groaned again. Apparently he wasn't up for questioning. Crawley didn't care - he'd woken up with a brand new body part and was blessed if he wasn't going to get answers.

Aziraphale lifted his head again. "I think I am going to be in trouble for this. I've already been spoken to about inappropriate miracles."

"For what? Angel, did you miracle me a cock?"

Aziraphale nodded. "You needed to urinate. Kept going on and on about how you were going to explode. This body had one as standard, I was trying to help."

Crawley had a vague memory of standing against a tree and feeling an unholy, profound sense of relief. And wet feet. His body suggested he would need to do the same again very, very soon. Preferably, without the wet feet.

Crawley, with considerable effort, heaved himself standing. He stumbled a few steps before aiming himself at a nearby bush and releasing a stream of urine. It stank, but it felt a lot better than keeping it in. He'd seen humans do this before; he just never thought he'd have to do it for himself.

He'd seen humans do other things with their genitals as well. 

"Angel? Angel!"

Aziraphale heaved his head back up off the log. "I don't know how to banish a demon, but I'm about to give it a damn good try. What do you want Crawley?"

"Did you have sex with my genitals?"

The look of abject horror on Aziraphale's face suggested that he had not. "Don't be absurd. We've got genitals, not hormones."

"Oh. Right then. Good." Crawley staggered back to the log and sat down. He had a bit of a look at the whole set up. The hose was useful, obviously, but the dangling monstrosity down below was a bit of a mystery. He'd never taken that close of a look before.

"Do you really need to be doing that so close to my head?"

"What're these for?" Crawley asked ignoring the angel's complaint. He gave the offending organ a flick and felt an immediate, physical regret. It was an entirely new type of pain, both very localised and very encompassing at the same time. He doubled over and vowed never, ever to do that again.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Crawley nodded. 

"They're testicles. Humans use them to produce sperm for mating. We don't need them but they come with the set. You just have to be a bit careful with them."

"How do you know all this?" Crawley asked, still feeling tender and more than a little wary. 

"There was a seminar when I got the body. It was very interesting. Your lot didn't do one?" They hadn't. Crawley had sort of winged it as he went.

 "Look, "Aziraphale continued, "Do you want me to miracle the genitalia away again?" He didn't sound enthusiastic about it.

"No, " Crawley waved him off, "I'll figure it out myself. Save you from having to explaining it to upstairs."

Aziraphale grunted his thanks, rubbing his eyelids. "But honestly Crawley, please go away."  

He did, but he didn't magic away the genitalia because his body hadn't quite finished removing the night’s drink. In a few years’ time Crowley would figure out how to sober up with a miracle, and excitedly share the trick with Aziraphale, but right now they both had to deal with the physical aftermath the human way. It wasn't all bad. While watering a nearby bush he got talking with a young man from a neighboring clan and discovered a good, solid lead on some potential mischief.

Read the rest on Ao3

[van-goghs-right-ear]

I gotta say something, I live in a rural and predominantly Christian place, I mean there are Amish everywhere and my family even used to be Amish. But I'm not a Christian and I am gay (Not that the two are mutually exclusive). And if I'm being honest, your post almost brought me to tears. Suddenly I felt this overwhelming relief and tension leave my shoulders and I don't quite know why yet, but I just want to say thank you for accepting even if you don't agree. You don't know how much it means.

Hi friend, thanks for reaching out! I’m sorry this is like five days late! I’ve been trying to think of how to answer you without saying something wrong. This is super carefully worded since it’s such a touchy subject, and it’s gonna be REALLY SUPER long (I’M SORRY), but I do hope you’ll read it and come away with a new perspective of Christians. If you have more questions about what I’ve written to you, please, do message me privately and let me help! I’m not trying to shove stuff down your throat either; I’m just explaining stuff, and there’s a lot to this. You are so welcome to do what you wish with the information I’ve provided!

There’s a lot of things that many Christians don’t understand about what it means to love as Jesus loves us and how to spread God’s Word and the Gospel. Now, that doesn’t mean they’re bad people or bad Christians, but that they may just be a little misguided or just don’t quite understand yet. Likewise, there are a lot of things that both Christians and non-Christians alike do not understand about the Bible and how to use Scripture (I sure have a TON to learn yet!).

Before we go on, understand the following, because it is important with where I’m going with this response: GOD AND JESUS = LOVE.

I’m sure you have heard many times the scriptures in the Old Testament that call for those who practice homosexuality (there is a note about the term “practicing homosexuality” below) to be put to death or that it is an abomination. The people who use these scriptures to come against the LGTB community take them out of context and use them in a way that is condemning and hurtful (not what God wants!!!) The first 5 books of the Bible (Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, called the Torah in Judaism) contain the 613 laws that God gave to Moses for the Israelites to follow. They contain religious laws (observe the Sabbath, do not worship idols), moral laws (do not murder or steal/honor your family), and ceremonial laws (ritual burnt offerings [aka sacrificing a lamb for Passover or sacrifices for atonement of sins]). The Jews back in Biblical times (as well as today) strive to follow all 613 laws (what a feat to undertake! Though I doubt many do some of the ceremonial ones because sacrificing animals and such is somewhat frowned upon in today’s society, but if you’re curious, I’d say ask a Jewish person about how they were taught to follow God’s 613 Laws because I’m not that well versed in that area). 

However, when Jesus died on the cross to take on our sins upon himself and save us from what we deserve as sinners (death), He fulfilled the Law and made a new covenant with those who believed He is the Messiah/Son of God. Obviously God wants us to follow the good moral laws that He had set in place (aka don’t murder, don’t steal, don’t commit adultery, etc.), but because of the New Covenant, Christians are not required to follow many of the 613 Jewish laws. Jesus tells us the greatest commandments of the New Covenant, and are found in Luke 10:27:  “He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” 

(^^^This is where people get confused! They don’t understand that many of the laws in the Torah were relevant to the time when they were written, as well as many other verses in the Bible [aka how women should be silent in synagogue/church and societal stuff like that] were for social purposes. For example, [forgive me bc i can’t find the verse] somewhere in the New Testament where the apostle Paul writes to one of the early churches, he mentions how women should cover their hair. This is because women’s hair was sexualized in that particular society, and so they should dress modestly, just like women shouldn’t walk around with their boobs/butts out or how men shouldn’t be taking their genitals out in public. Get it? Okay! It’s good to know historical background for a lot of stuff in the Bible, and I’m still learning a lot about it, and admittedly doing some research to fact check myself as I write this so I don’t give you bad info!!)

ANYWAY. So in Leviticus, this particular law that everyone mentions calls for those who practice homosexuality (notice I didn’t say “homosexuals” because the point is to call out the sin, not the person, because sin does not define us) to be put to death. This obviously is not how things are done today (it’s a societal law relevant to the time it was written), and NOWHERE in Scripture does it say that God hates you if you’re gay (that’s an example of how people take that particular verse out of context!!!!! It is NOT true that God hates gay people!!!!) But God’s Word is consistent in the stance He takes on things, as seen in 1 Timothy 1:8-11 (New Testament letter written by the apostle Timothy): 

8 We know that the law is good if one uses it properly. 9 We also know that the law is made not for the righteous but for lawbreakers and rebels, the ungodly and sinful, the unholy and irreligious [irreligious meaning those who refuse God], for those who kill their fathers or mothers, for murderers, 10 for the sexually immoral, for those practicing homosexuality, for slave traders and liars and perjurers—and for whatever else is contrary to the sound doctrine11 that conforms to the gospel concerning the glory of the blessed God, which he entrusted to me.

God sees the practice of homosexuality as one of the things that is considered sexually immoral (which also includes prostitution, sex before marriage [something I’ve been guilty of and forgiven for, I’m not ashamed to admit], adultery, incest, bestiality; basically anything that isn’t sexual relations between a husband and wife only), whether it is in the Old Testament times or the New Testament (because God does not change. He is the same loving and just God and Father as He was, is, and always will be.) But listen, this is not to condemn you or judge you, please know. I’m still just explaining things. I’m getting to my point, I promise. :)

PLEASE NOTE: the term “practice of homosexuality” means engaging in the act of same-sex sexual relations. NOT same-sex attraction. The latter is a result of the Fall of Man (when Adam and Eve were banished from Eden for disobeying God and eating the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge) and so same-sex attraction is merely a temptation, not the sin itself. It is what those who experience same-sex attraction do with that temptation that determines whether it becomes sin or not.

The next part of this puzzle here can be found in the New Testament when Jesus is doing His teachings. See: Matthew 7:1-5 where Jesus gives his followers this analogy:

“Do not judge, or you too will be judged.2 For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.3 “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? 4 How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? 5 You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”

What He means here is that we cannot judge (condemn) others for their sins, since none of us is free of sin (except Jesus). If a brother/sister (in Christ or literal, doesn’t matter ha) has a “speck of dust” aka a sin, how can you condemn them for it when you have a plank (aka a sin as well) of your own? It’s kind of like a “you who has not sinned throw the first stone,” sort of thing. Who are we to judge others’ sins? We can’t. God is the only Judge. The only way to help our brothers with their specks is to repent of our planks and have our hearts right with God.

BUT, here’s where it gets cool. To God, no sin is worse than another. He hates all sin equally, but he loves each of us as if you or I (or anyone else!) were the only human on earth to love, even though we are sinners. He made Man originally as blameless (aka without sin), and the Devil came and introduced sin to the world through the deception of Adam and Eve when they ate of the Tree of Knowledge (known as the Fall of Man). And so, to defeat the Devil and sin, God sent His Son to die and take on all the sins of the world; the ultimate and last sacrifice, all because He loves us so much and wants us to have eternal life through Jesus instead of death (John 3:16-18). 

But remember when Jesus said “Love your neighbor as yourself”? That’s where many Christians go wrong. Scripture instructs us to rebuke sin, but we are to do it in a way that does not condemn. (”Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Jesus Christ” Romans 8:1) We are supposed to love each other as God loves us (the Devil knows our names but calls us by our sins and condemns us, whereas God knows our sins, but calls us by our names!). God wants us all to come to repentance through Jesus (John 14:6) and be freed of the chains of our sins (no matter what they are!!! I am just as guilty of sin as a murderer or a thief or a liar in God’s eyes, but God forgives [and forgets our sins!] and has grace on all of us when we repent, and we are washed clean). A lot of Christians (most notably the ones who picket and shout nasty things at people) don’t understand the “love” part. They don’t get that there is another side to the story: salvation. They don’t get that calling people out by their sins doesn’t do anything to further the Kingdom of God or to bring people closer to Him unless they do it in a loving way (aka not shouting nasty things or saying God hates you, which is bogus anyway...) and explain how people can be saved from the fires of Hell (which is by accepting and believing that Jesus Christ is the Savior of the world and died for the atonement of our sins, making a way for us to get to Heaven through Him). Many of these Christians who you see shouting condemnation at people either are misguided or do not understand that they also need to preach about the fact that God loves us so much that He sent Jesus to save us from what we deserve by taking our place. Yes, it is necessary to explain what happens when we sin and do not repent (sin separates us from God and dishonors Him, which is why He hates sin, because He loves us so much and wants us to be in a close relationship with Him), and what the ultimate consequence of our sin without accepting Christ is (spending eternity in Hell, which is and should be terrifying for those who are not in Christ), but it is just as necessary to explain that there is a way out of that punishment by way of God’s grace (there is a verse below from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians at the Church of Ephesus in Greece that connects to this).

All in all (through this hugely long winded response I am so sorry haha), just know that as Christians, we need to love everyone in order to show them the true Jesus. Condemnation and judgement is NOT Jesus. (“There is only one Lawgiver and Judge, the one who is able to save and destroy. But you—who are you to judge your neighbor?” James 4:12)

But, (last thing I promise) “acceptance” is not the word I would use, because I do not accept the practice of homosexuality (or any other sin!!!!) as an okay thing. BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN I (OR GOD!!!!) DO(ES) NOT LOVE YOU OR ANYONE ELSE because who am I, a sinner myself, who is trying my very best (and failing in one way or another, whether it’s an impure thought, or a nasty word, or talking back to my parents, etc.) every day to not sin. That’s where God’s grace comes in. We fail God’s expectations of us every day (Literally the only one who has not failed Him is Jesus…) and with repentance comes grace through Jesus’ sacrifice and His blood, and that’s beautiful because God is choosing to bless us with life and a second chance rather than curse us as our sin deserves (4 But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, 5 made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions [sins]—it is by grace you have been saved. 6 And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, 7 in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. 8 For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— 9 not by works, so that no one can boast.” Ephesians 2:4-9.) (I hope that paragraph makes sense… It’s not really coming out the way I want but catch me another day with this part and I’ll hopefully have a better way of saying it.). If this paragraph rubs anyone the wrong way, know that sin does not define any of us, Christian or not. So the fact that I do not accept any sin as okay does not mean that I don’t accept you and love you as a person. (yes I know, “but you’ve sinned!” no one’s perfect, I’m trying and I know I fail, so I’m not judging you because that would make me a hypocrite. That’s where the verse above about grace comes in.) 

Okay i’m gonna stop there bc this is like an essay and I’m sorry it’s so long! I’m so glad you liked my post, and I hope you found something in here that speaks to you about the true nature of God and what He wants Christians to really do vs. what the world sees a lot of Christians doing.

I love you, friend!!! I’m not sure if you follow me and if you will actually see this, but I hope you do and choose to message me to talk about this stuff (or literally anything bc my DM’s are always open!) God loves you so much, I want you to know that! Be well!!!

I think I did this right: here’s a link to the post my dear anon is referencing: 

https://van-goghs-right-ear.tumblr.com/post/96374967163/i-am-a-christian

[mental-health-advice]

yooo so i stopped being a wimp and came out to my dad as ftm. good news, he accepts me. bad news, he says that to him i'll always be his daughter. he also said that it's just a phase and that t is dangerous and can and will kill me and he's just saying too much bullshit but i'm bad at defending myself and i don't know how to help him understand the concept of be being trans better than just saying "i'm a boy, i feel like a boy cause i am one" please help (tag as calvin please!!)

Hi Calvin,

I’m sorry to hear that this is going on! I do want to say that you weren’t a wimp for not coming out to your dad sooner. Coming out is scary and it’s important to wait until you’re ready. There was nothing wrong with waiting!

The concept of being transgender is hard for some people to grasp, but hopefully he’ll be more understanding. I think it might help to explain to him the difference between your assigned gender and gender identity because that seems to be where people get confused since they are two completely different concepts. Maybe start by explaining what an assigned gender is, which is what the doctor says you are when you’re born. It’s a somewhat creepy way of looking at it, but assigned gender is literally just based off of what genitals the doctor sees when they look between your legs when you’re born. Based off of that, you’re assigned all of these gender roles that you’re expected to follow. Then there’s your gender identity, which is what you know your gender is, rather than what someone tells you it is. There’s also your biological sex, which is more about your chromosomes, pretty outdated in terms of medical relevance, and also not really relevant for your dad at this point. A lot of times people’s assigned gender is aligned with their gender identity, but that definitely isn’t always the case. When they aren’t aligned, that’s when transgender identities come into play. I’m sure you’re already aware of all of this, but it might be a good way to break everything down for your dad to understand it.

I really hate to say this, but the things your dad has said about you being trans is not supportive at all, love. A supportive parent would listen and try to understand where you’re coming from with all of this. While it would be a lot to take in, no matter how accepting they are of trans identities, it’s not okay for him to insist that he’s only ever going to see you as his daughter. Even the most supportive parents might need some time to adjust and they might slip up once in a while, but it doesn’t sound like he’s making any effort to accept who you are. It’s really unfortunate to see him doing this because you are a beautiful and amazing person no matter what your gender is. 

The bright side to this is that he still has time to come around. Like I mentioned before, this would be a lot for any parent to take in right away and most would need some time to adjust, like with calling you by your chosen name and using the right pronouns. He might just need some time to become educated and realize that you’re still the same person you were before coming out. If you’d like to give him some information to look over, that might be a good way to let him start educating himself. We have a page about gender and sexual identity that provides some general information and resources about gender, as well as a list of genders that includes some helpful terminology. There’s an article here that talks about ways to support a transgender child, though it does use some outdated terms. There’s also some really good information here about hormones and transitioning since your dad is concerned about T. If you think your dad would be open to learning more about this, consider giving him these resources to look at.

Although your dad isn’t being supportive, please know there’s nothing wrong with who you are. Your gender doesn’t make you any less deserving of love or respect. 

-Samantha