#because he lives in a society that mocks same gender attraction

[baked-hylian]

maybe I should stop trying to interact with people in fandoms

[tirfpikachu]

are we just crazy or are lgbt spaces getting legit deranged?????

every unusual experience of sexuality/gender is a valid part of the bootiful qweer biodiversity of the world by default, but you can't be gay/bi/trans and not want to be called the q slur or see cishets say the q slur. and you can't say that you're afab4afab or amab4amab, that's just a creepy bigoted fetish you freak. unless you're transmasc4transmasc or transfem4transfem ofc, you get a free pass. but also kinkshaming is evil and deeply harms the most marginalized. but also make sure you don't have a fetish about genitalia... if you do, it's a "preference" not an inborn trait and you really can therapize yourself into liking it, just try hard enough. if you fail to you're a bigot, so just keep trying!! make sure to feel guilty abt it at least, you dirty homo. but getting beat up can be a cool sexual thing and bestiality or noncon is fine. but actual genitalia "preferences" are bigoted. if you don't call the genderqueer person pansexual instead of bi they'll chew their own arm off and hit you with it and call the cops but don't say you're a female trans man or that you're a trans guy lesbian or link it to being a female homosexual in any way ever okay?! you can't be at peace with acknowledging your sex/agab as a trans person!!!! or feel a connection to lesbian spaces as a trans man or gay male spaces as a trans woman!!! that's BIGOTRY and that's just feeding terf cunts you dumb theyfab. you can't link your cis womanhood to being afab AT ALL either bc that's transmisogynistic and dangerous rhetoric but every other group of gender marginalized folks can define their own identities and have a billion microlabels. you can't say you're not into girldick because not all trans women have dicks dumbass, surgical vaginas are defo the exact same as bio vaginas anyway so if you only like afab pussy & afab bodies you're a gross pervert mocking bottom surgery. and someone's upbringing as a male/amab or female/afab person definitely isn't a huge part of why homosexual ppl are into the same-sex/agab so you shouldn't give a single shit if a transbian flirting with you hasn't grown up facing misogyny or going thru afab/female body struggles or any of that, that has NOTHING to do with lesbianism between female ppl and has no bearing whatsoever on attraction you absolute psychopath. sexes/agabs is just a mix of detached body parts and you can play mr potatohead with it all and if you glued it good enough homosexuals wouldn't be able to tell at all that he used to be a mrs potatohead!! so they'd still hit that, right? homosexuals will go for anything anyway right?? homosexual love obvs can't be any deeper than genitals and fetishes. amab4afab ppl can be homosexual too anyway if they pass as gay irl too so homosexual isn't even a real tangible thing anyways it doesn't involve sex/agab at all and those ppl don't get to be their own specific oppressed class and do their own activism and have agency over their own identity bc they're super privileged worldwide and the enby living as a gender conforming woman in society dating a neckbeard looking for a third is more oppressed than a visibly gnc crossdressing bio guy holding hands with his normie bf. they might be gay but they're not qweer... except to the rightwing ofc!! oh and if you're trans and recently started passing as straight you're more privileged than an afab4amab couple who's lived a hetero til they transitioned! so shut the fuck up and listen to the New Gays. don't call yourself homosexual anymore or you're a cis bootlicker and if you're transmasc you're oppressing every transfem, including ones who have never faced misogyny irl a day in their fucking life!!! just be valid the RIGHT WAY!!!!!! be more queer you dirty normie homo!!!!!!

HAHAH i love it here

[luciernagadelencanto]

Nina's Story TV Tropes

Had some fun putting together a list of Tropes that might be found in Nina and Bruno's storyline.

Because why not. XD

A Mistake Is Born: A character is unwanted by their family or the character is unplanned.

Relative Ridicule: Making fun of someone's family members, or mocking them for whom they are related to.

Give the Baby a Father: A woman is pregnant and a man who's not the father proposes to her to protect her honor in a society that frowns on sex/conception outside of marriage. (Nina's "step"father steps up)

Bespectacled Cutie: A sweet bespectacled character that's adorable because of their glasses.

Blind Without 'Em: A character who wears glasses can't see a thing without them on.

Glasses Are Sexy: (more accurately, The Glasses Stay On)

Animal Lover

Beautiful Singing Voice: A character is acknowledged in-universe as having a great singing voice.

Friendship Trinket: (Necklace of a piece of vision tablet from Bruno, she wears every day after her quinces, even before realizing her feelings are romantic)

Accidental Hand-Hold: Moment where two characters end up locking hands with each other when they reach for the same item.

Age-Gap Romance: Romance where one partner is notably older or younger than the other.

Anchored Ship: A potential romantic pairing that's been put on hold.

Manic Pixie Dream Girl: attractive, energetic, high on life, full of wacky quirks and idiosyncrasies (generally including childlike playfulness). Obsessed with our hero, on whom she will focus her kuh-razy antics until he learns to live freely and love madly.

Rebellious Spirit: A character who doesn't abide by the rules.

Black Sheep

Small Town, Big Hell: has its own drama since everyone knows each other, and so when something happens (usually something bad), the whole town gets the news and everyone takes sides

There Are No Therapists

Oblivious to Love: (Bruno is oblivious to the fact that she's in love with him)

The Chaste Hero: (Her future partner, Bruno, really)

Will They or Won't They?

Animal Motif/Animal Metaphor: (Fireflies, additionally sometimes goats)(in love with someone with many rats)

Color Motif: (Green to match love interest, represents strangeness, down-to-earth nature, connection to main animal motif)

Motif Merger: (Both wear green, hourglasses and infinity symbols look similar, though represent seemingly opposite things, till you turn it on its side.)

Symbol Motif Clothing: (Infinity symbols and fireflies) (Bruno wears hourglasses)

Leitmotif: (If she had one, it'd be pan pipes with spanish guitar)

Single Woman Seeks Good Man

She Is All Grown Up

Secret Relationship

Happily Married: (eventually)

If It's You, It's Okay: A lover who defies usual gender preferences.

Outdoorsy Gal: A girl who would rather play outside than inside.

Tomboy with a Girly Streak: A tomboy with possibly a girly interest or two.

Single-Target Sexuality: (Bruno is demisexual)

Cute Bruiser: Cute, young/youthful-appearing character (often female) capable of kicking ass and taking a hit.

Dude, She's A Lesbian: A person is informed that the person he is hitting on is gay. (While Nina's actually Bi, she is more promiscuous with women in her youth, leading her love interest to believe she is lesbian)

Archnemesis Dad: (Birth father is a terrible person, and eventually finds the crack in the mountain, returning and meeting his daughter.)

I Am Not My Father

Cool Aunt: (Becomes the cool aunt with no kids of her own)

Family Business: (Family owns/runs a farm)

Why Did It Have to Be Snakes?: I've got a very specific phobia that I'm too scared to even talk about! (Water, she will not swim)

Not Wanting Kids Is Weird: (Ridiculed for inability to/disinterest in having children)

[bidonica]

Per your answer about status and beauty “would have found a match sooner or later, and by fitting in the conventional role of wife and mother and all the other things expected by a highborn lady, her looks would have become less relevant because her status would have consolidated. But Brienne doesn’t play that game, and the people she meets feel entitled to mock her for her looks to her face.” if brienne looked like Cersei, and was still as skilled, how’d she be treated then?

A Brienne who grew up as beautiful as Cersei would be, bluntly speaking, a different character, and probably exactly the kind of "hot warrior chick" trope Martin pointedly tried to avoid when writing her. For all we know, a girl called Brienne of Tarth who grew up stunningly beautiful might never even have picked up a sword. Would a beautiful yet martially skilled Brienne make a radical choice like dropping everything and leave home by herself to follow the one man who showed her a semblance of kindness and attention? It's kind of like wondering what Sam's life would be if he weren't fat, or Tyrion's if he weren't a dwarf. One of the things I think GRRM is particularly successful at, is writing characters whose personality is defined both by "innate" traits and by education, social standing, physical advantages or limitations, privilege or lack thereof. These elements are all intertwined, and pulling one out makes the whole jenga tower of characterization fall.

Would people consider her differently if she were conventionally beautiful? Maybe. We don't know because the closest approximations we have are Lyanna (dead before getting to navigate societal expectations as a full adult), Arya (still a kid) and Asha (I'm not counting Ygritte because her culture expects her to be able to beat a mf up). Asha is interesting because she's the closest to the aforementioned hot warrior chick played straight, but I'd argue Martin averted that by making her more charismatic than conventionally beautiful, a good leader and a smart diplomat more than a super skilled warrior, and by giving her a healthy dose of self esteem, which doesn't come out of nowhere because she got parental support and recognition, and her dad isn't just any dad, he's the fucking boss where they live. She has quite a lot of social capital to back her up; would a random Iron Islander woman succeed in gaining the same respect Asha has? I somehow doubt it. There's also the Sand Snakes, who have a similar sort of privilege from being Oberyn's children, and also live in a culture that's more open to gender equality. So it's hard to know how society would realistically react to a gnc yet traditionally beautiful woman who goes into the world pretty much by herself, with only the social capital of being the female heir to a politically irrelevant island to back her up. Maybe a beautiful Brienne would be more self assured and charm people with charisma on top of beauty. Maybe she would still be shy and unsure of herself and suffer the attention either positive or negative she would attract.

There are a LOT of variables that come into play beyond the perceived beauty of this AU Brienne. And that's not even touching on the biggest "what if": would it even have been possible for her to achieve her current level of skill with a conventionally attractive female body - smaller, lighter, not as muscular? Brienne isn't just extremely well trained and with good instincts for combat, she literally has brute force that is linked to her size and build. There's a reason combat sports have weight categories. Once again: you take one element out and it snowballs into a whole set of different results in other areas.

[blogsanscontext]

A Closer Look at: Momoe Sawaki’s character arc; by a nonbinary (trans) viewer.

CW: Major spoilers for Wonder Egg Priority + mentions and discussion of sexual assault, transphobia, lesbophobia, self-harm; please proceed with caution.

Wonder Egg Priority came as a relatively pleasant surprise for me; I heard about it some time after the first few episodes aired, but I never actively went out of my way to ever try to watch it myself until, that is, a few days ago. I must say, I’m glad to have taken the initiative to experience such anime on my own.

With a stunning animation to accompany the heavy subjects this work touches on, I quickly fell in love with it; all the characters feel very grounded in reality, with their struggles (even someone like Neiru’s, who is a literal genius and CEO of her own company) feeling relatable in one way or another. Episode 7 became my favorite due to this very thing, Rika’s problems were things that not only have I seen in other works before, but that I know exist because of the stories told in the news every so often. It only helped, in my opinion, that they gave a character with her background such a hopeful ending.

That being said, Wonder Egg is not a perfect anime, and though I didn’t expect it to be in the first place, I do think talking about why some of the ways it handles a specific character of the main cast are problematic are worth the time. When I mentioned that “all the characters feel very grounded in reality”, I actually only meant three of them, a.k.a.: Ai, Rika and Neiru. The reason Momoe is not included in this group is what I will be discussing in the next paragraphs.

This anime lets you know, right off the bat, that it will not stray away from heavy subjects throughout the duration of its runtime; the show deals with suicidal idealization (and actual suicide as well as its aftermath; in fact, “female suicide” is at the very core of the show and is what essentially moves it forward), self-harm, sexual assault, same-sex relationships, transphobia, and being a gender noncomforming person in a society that punishes you for not adhering to the roles it has imposed on you since childhood. The last points are the ones I took issue with, however, and though they are mostly the show’s fault, they also took it upon themselves to make Momoe be at the center of all three.

See, when we are first introduced to Momoe, we can guess by context that she is a girl, however, the other characters aren’t aware of this fact yet, and so they seemingly go out of their way to call her a boy, which makes her deeply uncomfortable, and this (ie. her reaction to be treated or perceived as a boy) is a running theme throughout her arc. This, in itself, isn’t really the worst creative direction to take with a character, it’s a story that has been told time and time again, but there is a problem with the way Wonder Egg Priority specifically deals with it: Momoe is cisgender, and so far, there hasn’t been a sign of this changing whatsoever, so she will most likely remain cis until the show ends. Normally, a story about a gender noncomforming cis person wouldn’t be seen as anything out of the extraordinary, as I’ve mentioned before, but it seems that they wanted to… “innovate”, so to say, with her character. And it’s this innovation, in my opinion, that which makes Momoe’s struggles miss the mark for me.

Momoe is perceived, almost ridiculously so, as a boy by whoever even so much as stumbles upon her; her followers on Instagram most likely worship her because they’re under the impression that she’s a bishounen, and yet the show goes out of its way to deal with just how uncomfortable this makes her. This is the issue I take with her and her arc: the show has a keen awareness of AFAB people’s issues, and treats them with the respect they deserve (which is not to say some jokes at their expense aren’t made, but in general this tone is kept throughout the duration of the story), and yet the tone-deaf manner in which they deal with her issues feels… disappointing, to say the least.

Momoe’s struggles, though they are valid on their own, are not a societal issue, no matter how one may look at them; if she were a trans person (either a trans girl, boy, or nonbinary), the strong emphasis on her discomfort at being misgendered would have made so much more sense. The reason why ‘switching around’ the stereotype of a tomboy falls flat on its face is that there is no real pressure from society to present feminine, it’s what they want you to, or more accurately, force you to do if you’re perceived as being assigned female at birth; however, this is not where my issues with Momoe’s arc and character end.

At first, I imagined a variety of (albeit vague, still reasonable) reasons as to why this show couldn’t have just made Momoe be trans, and semi-understanding of this decision; that was, of course, until I watched the actual episode mostly focused on her struggles, and that’s when I got slightly mad. Being honest, I still think it was a good episode, and it definitely made Momoe seem way more sympathetic than any of her past appearances, but it also perfectly highlighted my problem with her, and subsequently, the show itself: using queer people’s actual, realistic, problems in order to push her, a cisgender character, forward.

The thing with Wonder Egg Priority is that I love how, despite all these girls literally risking their lives to save a specific person, they still seem to have conflicting feelings about them (ie. Rika’s mocking of Chiemi, Ai’s frustration towards Koito, etc.) but I also take issue with this when it comes to Momoe specifically; Haruka is very much intended to be seen as gay, yet when push comes to shove, we are supposed to be taking Momoe’s side in this conflict. We, the audience, see these events from her point of view, and are therefore made to feel, in one way or another, uncomfortable with Haruka’s attraction for her. Yes, Momoe has worked hard to bring her back to life, but the fact that she’s cis and heterosexual stands; this isn’t just exclusive to Haruka, however, but every egg she’s had to save in order to get her friend back. All of them express a clear attraction for Momoe, “despite her being a girl”, and it’s just very easy to read these attitudes as wlw-phobic, extremely so.

My biggest issue though lies within the very existence of Kaoru’s character, the trans boy she has to protect in the episode mainly focused on her; while he is an endearing and sympathetic character, and I like that despite him presenting ‘majorly female’, Momoe never misgenders him. The thing is: he’s made out to be almost a “parallel” of her own gender-related issues, and this is just a very tone-deaf statement to make; trans people fighting not to be misgendered, fighting to be called their chosen name (something Momoe, while being cis, can just freely enjoy) - trans people’s pain is very much real, which the show is aware of, but Momoe’s is very much an individual’s problem rather than the way society actually works, which Wonder Egg is seemingly unaware of, for whatever reason.

Before I arrive at my last point on why this comparison doesn’t work, I would like to quickly point out the fact that most, if not all, the eggs the girls have had to save until this point were specifically meant to be girls, in one way or another. Therefore, taking this into account, Kaoru makes me feel… a lot of things, the more time I spend thinking about it; the show acknowledges he’s a boy, though not cis of course, but still very much a boy, yet also places him in this very much ‘female’ space; no matter how I looked at it, I could find explanations both for an opinion in favor of this decision (the way a lot of trans men’s problems are defined by our patriarchal society seeing them as women) as well as some for an opinion against this decision (the fact that it could be read as the show ultimately deciding he’s ‘female-aligned’, etc.) and though I won’t be discussing this decision in-depth, I still possess that it’s an event worth examining from different lenses.

Now, onto the actual element that got me heated about Kaoru serving as a parallel to Momoe’s struggles: Kaoru was not only sexually assaulted by a man who’s always thought of him as a ‘pretty, delicate girl’, his death directly relates to the fact that he was abused and then impregnated by this man for not living up to his gross ideal of what a man and a woman are; contrast this to Momoe, who pretty much gets the treatment Kaoru would love to have: she’s pretty much right off the bat seen as a guy, she’s fawned over by women because of this fact as well, they literally call her ‘Momotaro’, etc. Taking all of this into account, it’s simply impossible for me to be okay with a comparison that ultimately decides a cisgender person’s discomfort is, in any sort of way, on equal grounds as a (might I remind you, dead) trans person’s basic human rights.

All in all, though her episode made me take a bigger liking to her character, it also served to almost perfectly highlight the very problem of her existence, as well as the “struggles” she’s intended to represent; I don’t hate Momoe in any sort of way, and though I know there must be someone somewhere who relates to her, I also think that they could’ve done something way more meaningful with her had they just made some changes that made her more realistic (as in, make her at least be LGBT rather than just cis and heterosexual); I will be patiently waiting for the finale, and who knows? Maybe something does change about her in the end, that would be even more of a pleasant surprise.

[absynthe--minded]

🏳️‍🌈 Nolofinwë

So I’m gonna preface this by saying that I really don’t think that elves have a cultural identity based around either sexual orientation or gender identity, exactly. They’re much more like preferences that define your own personal existence but don’t get you access to subcultures or social experiences or concepts of self that place you apart from or opposite to anyone else. There are elves who we would classify as LGBTQ+, and elves who, transplanted to the modern day, would definitely identify as gay/lesbian/bi/trans/etc based on modern standards, but these aren’t things that form massive pillars of elvish identity in the first three Ages of Arda. The same is true for Men, actually, imo - there’s not a set standard anywhere saying “this is normal, this is ordinary, anything deviating from it is Abnormal or Freakish”. As a result, you have Eldar who find themselves solely attracted to one gender, or attracted to multiple genders, and you have Eldar who change their names and their appearance, but it’s not something that’s unusual, or something that’s held to be a sign of social deviance. I also think that across different elvish cultures there are different standards and gender roles and concepts of gender - the same is true in contemporary human cultures, so why wouldn’t it be true of elves? (This is very much how I think of Atanin sexuality/gender as well - it doesn’t really map identically to how we see these things, and there aren’t societal prejudices against them, so the typical Non-Cishet Experience is something I don’t think most elves or men in Tolkien really have any frame of reference for.)

The Noldor specifically have two common and culturally recognized genders, nér and nís, that approximately resemble “man” and “woman”, but they aren’t exactly the same. As a result, Nolofinwë is a cis man by the standards of his own people. He’s a nér who’s very comfortable being a nér - he doesn’t have any desire to change that, and he doesn’t experience any discomfort or dysphoria regarding his hröa or the social roles associated with it, mostly because there aren’t any. The only thing that he can’t do without stepping outside the bounds of his gender as it’s understood by Noldorin society is bake bread, and that’s not something that he can really change. (I’m a firm believer in the “LaCE means néri can’t get yeast to ferment at all” school of thought) He’s also very masculine (as opposed to someone like Findekáno or Tyelperinquar who falls more in the middle of the “masculine/feminine” spectrum, if it is a spectrum for them) and is very comfortable in that masculinity. Does that mean he’d consider himself a “man”, as western culture today understands manhood? He’d certainly find it a closer fit than “woman” or “nonbinary”, but it’s not exact, just as nís and “woman” aren’t exact. He’d probably find a lot of the expectations of behavior or standards of manliness to be constraining and strange.

He’s also bi as fuck, by human standards.

He was pretty sure that he was only interested in other néri, actually, until he met Anairë. She took one look at him and went “oh, I want that” and he was very happy to be wanted by her, and the rest was a long and happy story. There wouldn’t have been any political drama if he’d married another nér, though Fëanáro might have mocked him for not producing any biological heirs - the important thing in Noldorin society is that if you want to marry someone, you do, and that’s that. You’re with that person forever, so you take your time looking and you can make as much or as little of a fuss about it as you please. If you don’t want to marry, or if you want a life partnership with someone that doesn’t involve sex, that’s equally fine. Gender roles and social roles among the Noldor are much more about behavior in community spaces than standards of individual living or expectations regarding coupling or reproduction.

[whogivesa-ship]

In the early days of this blog’s previous iteration, I had a very interesting conversation with a trans woman on the topic of genderbends. That post is now (sadly) lost to the Tumblr purge, but I remember her making some very good points, particularly that genderbends imply secondary sexual characteristics like breasts or the lack thereof are equal to gender. Recently I’ve seen more and more people claiming genderbends are transphobic and I think that topic is worth addressing again. So today let’s talk about genderbends and why I think they’re perfectly okay as a trans guy.

What is the purpose of genderbending?

The whole idea behind genderbending is kinda complicated. For some people, particularly women, it can be very cathartic to imagine your favorite characters going through the same gendered struggles you do. If a male character were female, would she have trouble being seen as competent? Not be taken seriously as an expert in her field or as a powerful fighter? Experience sexual harassment? If a female character were male, would he be mocked for taking on a typically female role? For other people, the idea boils down to hgnnnn girls sexy, which is fine too. Contrary to popular belief, horny people do have rights. I’ve also seen plenty of artists make genderbends to play with a character design they like. Whatever the reason, it’s clear that genderbends represent a lot more than cis straight guys on a quest to add tits to everything possible.

Do trans people really hate genderbends?

I’ve certainly seen individual trans people who are triggered by genderbends. However, trans people as a whole don’t unanimously hate genderbends. They’re actually really popular in some parts of the trans community. For example, the Bowsette trend? Largely fueled by trans women. Seriously, check out what r/traaaa has to say on the topic. Turns out a lot of trans people really like the escapist idea of being able to somehow magically transition and be conventionally attractive.

What about the enbies?

Another thing genderbends get accused of regularly is erasing nonbinary identities. They certainly do exist within the gender binary and don’t really address enbies. However, so does modern society in general. In my opinion, the solution isn’t to throw out genderbends entirely, it’s to increase the number of genderbends where binary characters are portrayed as nonbinary.

If not genderbends, then what?

So it’s clear that genderbends serve a specific purpose in a lot of cases. People should be allowed to create the art they want and if someone wants to imagine a character design if it were more feminine or masculine, or wants to see a favorite character deal with gendered problems, how can they express those ideas if genderbends are off the table? According to a lot of people, the answer is trans headcanons. However, those are policed even stricter in fandom and a lot of creators are scared to even touch them. The answer is creators just don’t get to explore ideas about gender in fan content. That’s not right. Fandom has historically been a place for marginalized people to tell stories the mainstream won’t listen to and that includes women and other marginalized genders.

Yes, but what about the breasts?

If you’ve been paying attention, you’ll notice that I haven’t really addressed the claim I brought up at the beginning. Do genderbends play into the idea that secondary sexual characteristics are inherent to a certain gender? The reason is because I think that’s correct. Yes, genderbends definitely do reflect our cisnormative society in a lot of ways, including the idea that breasts = female. However, I don’t think that makes them unacceptable to create. Genderbends may be questionable if perceived as a statement on trans issues, but that’s not what they’re intended as. They’re exploring issues of gender largely within cis society, which is a valid topic to discuss because it’s the society we’re all living in right now. People need to remember that cis women are an oppressed group too. They have a right to express their struggles through art just as much as trans people. While I’d love to see more examples of trans inclusive genderbend content, there’s nothing wrong with what we have now.

A Note on Terminology

The term genderbend isn’t universally accepted by any means. I use it because it’s the most common and in my opinion, pretty descriptive of the concept without being binary-normative. It’s actually meant to be more inclusive of enbies than the previous popular term genderswap. However, alternatives do exist including cisswap, rule 63, and presentation play. I’d recommend including genderbend as at least a tag, just so the content will be properly caught if people have the word blacklisted.

[samcheree]

Pedagogical Plan: Literary Theory - Feminist Criticism and The Age of innocence

Learning Objectives.

Define Feminist Criticism and     the terminology associated with it.

Demonstrate how and when     Feminist Criticism is appropriate for analyzing literature.

Apply Feminist Criticism to     “The Age of Innocence” by Edith Wharton.

Assess why this is relevant to     you as students.

Thesis statement: We need to understand applying Feminist Criticism to The Age of Innocence can reveal that men are more valued in the New York Society to gain awareness of how historically women have been marginalized.

Terminology *Critical theory is a a field of study has been around since the time of Aristotle (~360 BC). A set of interdisciplinary tools known as Critical Approaches. *Critical Approaches are used to read literature critically in order to gain a greater understanding of the piece, and to provide structure for Literary Criticism. *Literary Theory is the broadest Critical Approach or version of Critical Theory and can address any or all facets of a piece without a narrowed focus. *Feminist Criticism is a Critical Approach used to examine the role of gender in texts, but the focus has changed over time to include different aspects of gender.  *Sex is the biological state of being. *Gender is Sex in reference to social and cultural differences. *Stereotype is a widely held but fixed and oversimplified image or idea of a particular type of person or thing. *Gender Roles are stereotypes based on gender. *Queer is a versatile evolving word representing the LGBT+ community. *Queer theorists are a subset of Feminist Theorist. *“Queering” is examining a text’s homosexual or homo-social elements. *Homosexual is sexual attraction to people of one's own sex *Homo-social is social interaction between members of the same sex.

Content Introduction

          Being aware of the historical treatment of women can help you to have context for women’s issues of today. “Communication is embedded in culture, which serves as its context and is based on the prior experience of a community.” (1, Tatiana) So participating in community activities requires communication skills. Communication across different cultures and social groups, or how culture affects communication is known as intercultural communication. In order to interact interculturally or cross-culturally in an appropriate way one must understand the culture they are interacting with.  Interaction with a person from another culture is sure to take place in your day to day lives. In an Internet-based study with 2,201 participants, the new Epstein Love Competencies Inventory (ELCI) has shown “After communication, knowledge of partner and life skills were the competencies that best predicted self-reported positive outcomes in relationships.”(Introduction, Epstein) So being a good communicator makes you more likely to have a good romantic relationship. Being able to fully understand the way a text addresses gender opens up a deeper understanding to the cultures presented within it.

          When we apply Feminist Criticism to Feminist Criticism to The Age of Innocence it is revealed that men were more valued in New York Society than women, who had more strict expectations of them. The focus on gender and the different expectations of men and women is highlighted through the novel. And this is vital to understanding the varied perspective of people in the world today. Some will side with more traditional views on gender and gender role, while others will completely obliterate the concept all together.  The way that Count Olenska and Countess Olenska are perceived by others throughout the piece shows Men are allowed and expected to be unfaithful and sexually promiscuous where women are not. Many members of this society expect that Ellen should return to her husband regardless of his infidelity.  In Chapter 5 the family was discussing Ellen Olenska at the dinner table. Archer Newland the protagonist says “She’s ‘poor Ellen’ certainly, because she had the bad luck to make a wretched marriage; but I don’t see that that’s a reason for hiding her head as if she were the culprit.” (Chapter 5). The reaction of Mr. Jackson shows that he disagrees with Archer. Saying that “is the line the Mingotts mean to take.”(Chapter 5).

          The way that women look comes before their personalities for main characters like May Welland or Countess Ellen Olenska, and side characters like Mrs. Archer or Ellen’s Maid. As they are introduced the Narrator describes their breasts, or how revealing their clothing is nearly every time. The female characters intellectual abilities are addressed last, if at all. Looking at the way we interact with people on a daily basis in comparison to the interactions of people in the novel provides the opportunity to either challenge our own culture. Using Feminist Criticism with any piece of literature provides this opportunity.

          Women in the novel are described as being less capable and less intellectual than men repeatedly. When Archer describes his ideal fiancé and wife in  Chapter one he says “He did not in the least wish the future Mrs. Newland Archer to be a simpleton. He meant her (thanks to his enlightening companionship) to develop a social tact and readiness of wit enabling her to hold her own with the most popular married women of the “younger set,” in which it was the recognised custom to attract masculine homage while playfully discouraging it.” Clearly describing the ideal woman of the New York Society in which he leaves. And later in Chapter 10 he laments over fears that May will not be able to open her eyes to the world because her family is well breed and women have been trained to behave in a certain way. Even the supporting characters of Newlands mother and sister are described as less intellectual in chapter 4 “liking literature focused on scenery rather than more substantial things.” This type of bias would be considered highly inappropriate in many professional settings and would require human resources intervention. Understanding the impact gender has on interaction is vital to preventing sexual harassment, cultural communication, and gaining understanding for the purpose of educating others.

Activity            The activity will meet the Lesson Objective to: Apply Feminist Criticism to “The Age of Innocence” by Edith Wharton. The students will receive a handout. This will include a paragraph excerpt from chapter 8. The students will have 7 minutes to review this passage and answer two questions. A mock-up of the handout is attached as the last page of this plan. 

            After working independently with the passage, the students will get into groups of 4-5 to discuss their findings for 8 minutes. Evaluation of their written responses will be used to verify their participation and understanding of how to apply Feminist Criticism to The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton.

Follow up

After the end of the group discussion period will be 10 minutes of teacher lead review as a unified classroom. 5 follow up questions will be used to be sure the remaining lesson objectives are met. 

Students will be graded based on participation in the discussion and understanding of concepts. If no one answers or offers to answer a question then guided review will take place using the responses seen below:

Questions:

(1) What is a Critical Theory and why do we use it? (2) What is Feminist Criticism? Include relevant vocabulary! (3) How has Feminist Criticism changed over time? (4) When should you use Feminist Theory? (5) How can you use Feminist Theory in your daily lives?

Sample Answers:

(1) An interdisciplinary tool used to provide structure for literary criticism. (2) A Critical Approach to literature that focuses on gender, gender roles, queer people and sexuality including homosexual and homo-social behavior. (3)  Broadened to address men and their roles in 1970′s. Evolved to include the concept of gender as a performative in 1990′s.  (4) When ever gender or sexuality plays a part in the piece. (5) To be mindful during communication, prepare for intercultural communication, better understand a situation, or identify issues and provide education to others.

[discyours]

so. do you homosexual radfems intensely stare at every m/m and f/f couple trying to find out if one of them is trans so you can tell yourselves "yep that's a hetero couple" even tho said couple would be considered homosexual by society (and thus suffer homophobia) or do you just do it online?

“You homosexual radfems” is a bit ironic here bud. 

Do you want to take a rough guess at how many same sex couples I’ve seen in real life? The answer is two. Two lesbian couples, and I only knew they were lesbians because I was personally close to them. I’ve never seen a same sex couple just walking around holding hands. If I saw what looked to be a same sex couple in public around where I live, I’d definitely do a double take because me misjudging and them turning out to be heterosexual would actually be the most likely scenario there. 

Passing is conditional. Not a single stranger has called me she since I’ve come out (I got called ma’am once, and that was because of my voice. The person who said it corrected himself once he saw me), but that’s because my appearance generally isn’t put into context. I don’t think I’d pass if I were to walk around holding hands with a woman, and frankly I’m a little scared to. Likewise, if I was attracted to men and were to walk around with one? Highly fucking unlikely that people would see two cis gay boyfriends, especially since you have heteronormativity working against (or rather, for) you there as well. 

That’s not to say that I pass as well as any trans man ever has (absolutely not) and that trans men who date cis men have never experienced homophobia. But the idea that a trans man (even a trans man who passes in some if not most scenarios) and a cis man are always going to be seen as homosexual by society is complete and utter bullshit. 

Furthermore, the street harassment you may face if people see you as gay is nowhere near the full extent of homophobia. Homophobia is not just “you look q*eer and I don’t like that for reasons I can’t understand, so I’m gonna treat you like shit”. Homophobia is institutional. There are detailed explanations for why it’s wrong or sinful or unnatural to be homosexual, all across the world and dating back centuries if not millennia. You think those fully affect you just because some strangers saw you walking around and concluded that you and your partner can both grow facial hair? Homophobic laws don’t affect you. As long as you don’t change your gender marker (which is, you know, a choice) you can marry your partner anywhere in the world. You won’t even be legally barred from adopting children anywhere, if PIV sex doesn’t cut it for you. 

One of the fundamental roots of homophobia is the idea that sex must be for procreation. A same sex couple cannot procreate, so their attraction is a purely self-serving lust. Everything God is supposedly against. Heterosexual trans people may end up becoming infertile through transition, but at least they had a choice on some level. I’ve had to live with the knowledge that there has never been an acceptable way for me to be attracted to women, and that there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. I’ve tried to get rid of my attraction to women many, many times and it didn’t work. I will live and die with an attraction that I did not ask for and can do nothing about, and if the [people of various religions] are right then I’ll spend eternity in hell for it. Millions if not Billions of people believe this, and their rhetoric is inescapable. You’re aware of it regardless of where you move, regardless of who you tell and regardless of what you do. It affects closeted SSA people as well as people who never act on their attraction. Trying to squeeze homophobia down into something more inclusive and centering it around the idea that people might think you’re gay, as long as they don’t look for too long, is frankly fucking insulting. 

And that’s what it comes down to. I’m not the type of person to argue that trans people never pass, and I don’t believe that everyone will always see you as heterosexual just because you are. If a trans man faces street harassment for walking around with his boyfriend, I’m not gonna say he was lying. I’m not gonna give him shit for referring to it as homophobia. 

But y’all cling onto the mere possibility of that as validation material. You try to redefine homophobia, redefine the most commonly experienced forms of it, hide the history behind it just because it doesn’t suit you. Homophobia isn’t uwu validating to me at all but it’s a real fucking thing that I don’t get to shape around my desired identity. Of all the radfems who are genuinely transphobic, all the radfems who harass heterosexual trans people or publicly mock the pictures they post, of all the radfems who do this shit that I speak out against… you come into my inbox because I still believe that “sga” trans people are heterosexual? Sort out your priorities. 

[womanhood-and]

My journey with feminism

So. This post is going to make people angry, and I'm okay with that, because I need to talk about it.

I never really thought of feminism or women's oppression until a few years ago. I accepted my world as it was because I was a child, and I still am (a minor). When I first joined tumblr, I started thinking about it. Now, don't start mocking that, or acting like I don't know that it's not a good source of information. The fact was that I was 12/13 and for the first time, was exposed to concepts like feminism and violent porn. The two seemed to go hand in hand. Feminists being put in their place was a popular topic. I watched because it was there and because I was curious. I joined fandoms and talked about violence as it was erotic. I was talked to by men five, ten, fifteen years older than me and told I was so mature, asked to participate in sexual messages with them. I did, because I thought it was okay. I sent one picture, once, and then never again because a grown man soliciting nudes from who he knew to be a minor shamed me for having body hair and asked why I didn't shave. I hadn't had my first period by that point.

A couple years ago, as I stopped consuming as much porn because I started to feel weird about it- I'd read the titles of videos and realize how wrong it sounded. How bad it really was. I got more active in reading information on women's rights issues, following the news, talking to other feminists. I ID'd as a variety of MOGAI terms during that time period, which is a bit irrelevant at the moment but I'll come back to. I had my first real girlfriend during this time and shaved and wore makeup because it was "empowering" and I liked how I felt when I did. I felt pretty.

Fast forward another year and I've largely stopped shaving and putting on makeup because of the effort in involves, although I still do on occasion because my family makes me. I don't bother to resist. I had recently discovered that I was a lesbian while dating my most recent ex- I fell in love with her like I had never fallen in love with a boy. It was like what I felt with my first girlfriend but more. It was the first time I imagined a future with someone. And I realized that I wanted that with a woman, not a man. Before that, I went through a variety of MOGAI labels to explain away my lack of concrete attraction as others felt it. A spec, split attraction, anything to define how I felt about men when in reality I just wasn't attracted to them. I mentioned this and how I felt and fell in with a strong crowd for the first time in terms of feminism: other lesbians like me. Lesbians who went through what I did and shared their experiences in how men are so centered in women's lives and how it impacts our experiences as women who aren't attracted to them, as well as a complex relationship to gender, which is a social construction in order to make things more "black and white," so to speak. That doesn't mean Gender is fake or has no meaning or isnt ingrained in many of us, but it is simply a social construct.

I ran a blog about lesbianism and gender and their intersection for a while. I admitted something- I was penis repulsed. I still am. I said that it's not transphobic to have a genital preference because 1) it's impossible to know what genitalia a trans person has! And it's not okay to walk up to a trans person and say "hey did you get the surgery yet?" and 2) I felt very strongly that the way people were responding was them insisting that I had to be attracted to penises. Looking back, that wasn't exactly how it went down, but that's how I felt. The main issue was that I separated gender from sex- I said they're not the same. And people didn't like that. They said that they're the same, which didn't make sense to me. If gender and sex are the same, then a person can't be transgender, which is literally the two not aligning (I admit this is not the best phrasing but I can't figure out how else to put it). I was put on block lists and harassed and told that I was a violent transphobe who should be put down and I deactivated the blog.

Now this next part is what I know will upset people. I made a new tumblr account, so no one would know what I was up to, and looked at tags that I had never looked at before. TERF, radfem, and other related tags. Everyone on my other blog said that I was one, so I wanted to know what they were saying. I looked. I made a terf blog. I posted and reblogged and made friends and read a lot of material. I thought they made a lot of good points, and a lot of bad points. For the first time, I was seeing people talking about and linking to sources about separatism. People were talking about sex based oppression. People were talking about misogyny as something beyond an abstract concept. I felt as though a lot of things I experienced were suddenly being talked about, and it felt so nice to see someone putting my every day experiences as someone afab in our society into words like I had never been able. They talked about the pressure to conform to femininity. They talked about the injustice of the porn industry. They talked about the sexualization of girls. They talked about FGM. They talked about the way I was raised and the ways it hurt.

For about a month, I was fairly active. But one question I had lingered- I didn't agree with the transphobia. Which is a weak way to put it, I'm aware, but forgive my struggle to put feelings into words. I thought they were wrong about that, and they were harassing women, and it wasn't something I wanted any part of. Anyone I asked about it (who were also TERFs) said that they used to be like me and I should just keep reading and eventually I'd see their point.

I never did see their point, although I stuck around for another month or so.

For a few months after logging out of that account for good, I was restless. I wanted to talk about what I had read and what I felt but it seemed like anyone who was talking about sex based oppression was transphobic. It took me a while to realize hey, I can be the person to talk about it! It's important to me to express but I refuse to platform transphobes. So I post what I need to.

Ive grown rather attached to radical feminism, and I want to continue to talk about it, but I worry. I try to watch my step and I'm never quite sure if I say something that will overstep boundaries and bring the harassment back. People seem all too willing to punish women who step out of line. I ask, on this blog, that the focus be to educate and not to fight. I am still learning. If I post something that is "problematic" as much as I hate the term, I want to talk about it instead of ignore it or be blindly harassed over it. Feminism should always be about uplifting those who suffer from misogyny. Not tear them down because you personally don't like them or what they say. Feminism should be about listening as much as talking. If I refused to learn from women and trans men with different experiences, my feminism would be a failure.

That is the sum of this rambling post, I suppose; we should educate before we attack because we don't to know to whom someone will turn.

[xeno-aligned]

copy & pasted under the read more in order to have a local copy.

A Brief His and Herstory of Butch And Femme

BY: JEM ZERO 16 DEC 2017

When America’s LGBTQ+ folk started coming out of the closet in the 1950s, the underground scene was dominated by working class people who had less to lose if they were outed. Butch/femme presentation arose as a way for lesbians to identify each other, also serving as a security measure when undercover cops tried to infiltrate the local scenes. Butch women exhibited dapper and dandy aesthetics, and came to be known for being aggressive because they took protective roles during raids and other examples of homophobic violence. The image of the butch lesbian became a negative stereotypes for lesbians as a whole, leaving out femme lesbians, who are (pretty insultingly) considered undetectable as lesbians due to their feminine presentation.

In modern times there’s less need for strict adherence to these roles; instead, they become heritage. A great deal of political rebellion is wrapped up in each individual aesthetic. Butch obviously involves rejecting classically feminine gender expectations, while femme fights against their derogatory connotations.

But while butch/femme has been a part of lesbian culture, these terms and identities are not exclusive to queer women. Many others in the LGBTQ community utilize these signifiers for themselves, including “butch queen” or “femme daddy.” Butch and femme have different meanings within queer subcultures, and it’s important to understand the reasons they were created and established.

The Etymology

The term “lesbian” derives from the island on which Sappho lived—if you didn’t already guess, she was a poet who wrote extensively about lady-lovin’. Before Lesbos lent its name to lesbians, the 1880s described attraction between women as Sapphism. In 1925, “lesbian” was officially recorded as the word for a female sodomite. (Ick.) Ten years before that, “bisexual” was defined as "attraction to both sexes."

In upcoming decades, Sapphic women would start tearing down the shrouds that obscured the lives of queer women for much of recorded history. Come the ‘40s and ‘50s, butch and femme were coined, putting names to the visual and behavioral expression that could be seen in pictures as early as 1903. So, yeah—Western Sapphic women popularized these terms, but the conversation doesn’t end there, nor did it start there.

Before femme emerged as its own entity, multiple etymological predecessors were used to describe gender nonconforming people. Femminiello was a non-derogatory Italian term that referred to a feminine person who was assigned male—this could be a trans woman, an effeminate gay man, or the general queering of binarist norms. En femme derives from French, and was used to describe cross-dressers.

Butch, first used in 1902 to mean "tough youth," has less recorded history. Considering how “fem” derivatives were popularized for assigned male folks, one might attribute this inequality to the holes in history where gender-defying assigned female folks ought to be.

The first time these concepts were used to specifically indicate women was the emergence of Sapphic visibility in twentieth century. This is the ground upon which Lesbian Exclusivism builds its tower, and the historical and scientific erasure of bisexual women is where it crumbles. Seriously, did we forget that was a thing?

The assumption that any woman who defies gender norms is automatically a lesbian relies on the perpetuation of misogynist, patriarchal stereotypes against bisexual women. A bisexual woman is just as likely to suffer in a marriage with a man, or else be mocked as an unlovable spinster. A woman who might potentially enjoy a man is not precluded from nonconformist gender expression. Many famous gender nonconforming women were bisexual—La Maupin (Julie d'Aubigny), for example.

Most records describing sexual and romantic attraction between women were written by men, and uphold male biases. What happens, then, when a woman is not as openly lascivious as the ones too undeniably bisexual to silence? Historically, if text or art depicts something the dominant culture at the time disagrees with, the evidence is destroyed. Without voices of the Sapphists themselves, it’s impossible to definitively draw a line between lesbians and bisexuals within Sapphic history.

Beyond White Identities

Another massive hole in the Lesbian Exclusivist’s defenses lies in the creeping plague that is the Mainstream White Gay; it lurks insidiously, hauling along the mangled tatters of culture that was stolen from Queer and Trans People of Colour (QTPOC). In many documents, examples provided of Sapphic intimacy are almost always offered from the perspective of white cis women, leaving huge gaps where women of color, whether trans or cis, and nonbinary people were concerned. This is the case despite the fact that some of the themes we still celebrate as integral to queer culture were developed by Black and Latinx LGBTQ+ folk during the Harlem Renaissance, which spanned approximately from 1920 to 1935.

A question I can’t help but ask is: Where do queer Black, Indigenous, and other People of Color fit into the primarily white butch/femme narrative? Does it mean anything that the crackdown on Black queer folk seemed to coincide with the time period when mainstream lesbianism adopted butch and femme as identifiers?

Similar concepts to butch/femme exist throughout the modern Sapphic scene. Black women often identify as WLW (Women-Loving-Women), and use terms like “stud” and “aggressive femme.” Some Asian queer women use “tomboy” instead of butch. Derivatives and subcategories abound, sometimes intersecting with asexual and trans identities. “Stone butch” for dominant lesbians who don’t want to receive sexual stimulation; “hard femme” as a gender-inclusive, fat-positive, QTPOC-dominated political aesthetic; “futch” for the in-betweenies who embody both butch and femme vibes. These all center women and nonbinary Sapphics, but there’s still more.

Paris is Burning, a documentary filmed about New York City ball culture in the 1980s, describes butch queens among the colourful range of identities prevalent in that haven of QTPOC queerness. Despite having a traditionally masculine physique, the gay male butch queen did not stick to gender expectations from straight society or gay culture. Instead, he expertly twisted up his manly features with women’s clothing and accessories, creating a persona that was neither explicitly masculine nor feminine.

Butch Queens Up in Pumps, a book by Marlon M. Bailey, expounds upon their presence within inner city Detroit’s Ballroom scene, its cover featuring a muscular gay man in a business casual shirt paired with high heels. Despite this nuance, butch remains statically defined as a masculine queer woman, leaving men of color out of the conversation.

For many QTPOC, especially those who transcend binary gender roles, embracing the spirit of butch and femme is inextricable with their racial identity. Many dark-skinned people are negatively portrayed as aggressive and hypermasculine, which makes it critical to celebrate the radical softness that can accompany femme expressions. Similarly, the intrinsic queerness of butch allows some nonbinary people to embrace the values and aesthetics that make them feel empowered without identifying themselves as men.

Butch, Femme, and Gender

It’s pretty clear to me that the voices leading the Lesbian Exclusive argument consistently fail to account for where butch and femme have always, in some form, represented diverse gender expression for all identities.

‘Butch’ and ‘femme’ began to die out in the 1970s when Second Wave Feminism and Lesbian Separatism came together to form a beautiful baby, whom they named “Gender Is Dead.” White, middle class cis women wrestled working class QTWOC out of the limelight, claiming that masculine gender expression was a perversion of lesbian identity. The assassination attempt was largely unsuccessful, however: use of these identifiers surged back to life in the ‘80s and ‘90s, now popularized outside of class and race barriers.

Looking at all this put together, I have to say that it’s a mystery to me why so many lesbians, primarily white, believe that their history should take precedence over… everyone else that makes up the spectrum of LGBTQ+ experiences, even bi/pan Sapphics in same-gender relationships. If someone truly believes that owning butch/femme is more important than uniting and protecting all members of the Sapphic community from the horrors of homophobic and gendered oppression, maybe they’re the one who shouldn’t be invited to the party.

As a nonbinary lesbian, I have experienced my share of time on the flogging-block. I empathize strongly with the queer folks being told that these cherished identities are not theirs to claim. Faced with this brutal, unnecessary battle, I value unity above all else. There’s no reason for poor trans women, nonbinary Black femmes, bisexual Asian toms, gay Latino drag queens, or any other marginalized and hurting person to be left out of the dialogue that is butch and femme, with all its wonderful deconstructions of mainstream heteronormative culture.

It is my Christmas wish that the Lesbian Exclusivist Tower is torn down before we open the new chapter in history that is 2018. Out of everything the LGBTQ+ community has to worry about already, petty infighting shouldn’t be entertained—especially when its historical foundation is so flimsy. Queering gender norms has always been the heart of butch/femme expression, and that belongs to all of us.

[transboygenius]

Closet Case (Nick and Betty fic)

Nick Dean and Betty Quinlan walked into the Candy Bar establishment, hand in hand together like a couple. As a matter of fact, they were a couple. The two preteens only dated for about a week now, getting along perfectly fine. They even had fun, such as talking and holding hands, but so far they never kissed. The closest their lips had ever met was during their acting rehearsals for MacBeth In Space. These last couple of days haven't been so bad, like, Nick hasn't broke his leg while skating ever since. Jimmy and Cindy didn't seem to mind their relationship with each other, except maybe all of Nick's heartbroken groupies. Any of them would've had a chance with him, but of course, the prettiest girl in school got to him first.

Before they had became an item, every kid speculated that Cindy would be the lucky one. 'Fortunately, Nick never had any interest in Cindy at all. She was obnoxious, bratty, demanding, and physically harmful. From what Nick recalled a couple days back, he did witness Jimmy covered in ace bandages, with a very angry expressive Cindy walking besides him, on the day their little "date" took place. Breaking his leg every now and then is better than having Vortex as his girlfriend. The reason why Nick had always been nice to her was because his mother always told him to be a gentleman towards females. All the girls that swooned over him greatly annoyed him to a degree, but he'd never tell them to "piss off," or give any rude remarks.

Betty was more understanding, and respected his personal space. Aside from her questionable beauty, she was kind. Needs a little work on personality, but kind. If there's anything to contrast between Cindy and Betty, Betty can be beautiful and nice at the same time. That would explain Cindy's bitter jealousy. While Nick isn't exactly the nicest kid on the block, he's still someone you could easily make friends with. These two were a dynamic duo, based on how people looked at them. They were both good looking and popular. So far, that's the only things they have in common. If that's the case, what had started the relationship in the first place?

Nick and Betty sat at a table reserved for two, and Sam handed them their menus. Nick opened his and browse through the selections. He took a quick glance at Betty, who's still staring at him, and Nick gave a shy grin in return. He lifted up the menu so he could hide his face. Nick was nervous about the whole thing. No, it's not date jitters, it's not butterflies in his stomach, it's only the thought that he may be making a mistake here. This whole week, with Betty as his girlfriend, had been boring. All they do is talk, and nothing else. Rumors have been flowing that the more juicer stuff happens when no one's looking, but that doesn't happen neither. They don't flirt, kiss, anything out of romantic games. They do hug, however. Lucky for him, Betty never pressured him into those things, nor has she bothered asking. Maybe she's just shy. After all, Nick is her first real boyfriend, so she's not ready for anything physical.

Betty is a real sweetheart, and no boy would ever deny a date with her, but why does Nick feel so miserable? Their interactions are quite bland. They don't have any chemistry at all, just similar high standards. No matter how drop dead attractive Betty might be, Nick just doesn't feel it. The truth was Nick had no interest in Betty at all. The reason for this relationship in the first place was a different purpose, but that's personal matters. He could end it right now if he wants, but he wouldn't want to break Betty's heart. She seems happy with them being together. She believes they make a perfect pair. Whenever the two reunite with each other, Betty is the one to run towards him with opened arms, and then hug him like he was her only comfort zone. Being in his presence was ecstasy to her. There was nobody else she'd rather be with than him. She even told him at some point that he made her the happiest girl alive, even if their relationship was made up of the most simplest things but romantic. He's never seen anyone so happy.

He didn't wanna ruin any of that for her. He must continue being a gentleman to the opposite gender. But, if Betty's gonna be happy, what about him? Eventually, she will loose patience for that much waited kiss. If Nick keeps this up, for let's say a couple of years, they'd probably get married too. Imagine forcing yourself to settle with someone you didn't return feelings for. Could Nick continue to live like this just for Betty's own sake? On second thought, it's Nick's life, so he should decide how to live it. He needs to tell Betty, but let her down gently. Maybe she'll understand like any civilized human, maybe she won't. If she doesn't take it well, Nick swears on his grandfather's grave that he'll do anything to make it up to her. It could take months, and he wouldn't give up until she's completely over him. Maybe he could hook her up with another nice boy. Carl needs someone that isn't Neutron's mom. Just because Nick can be a jerk, doesn't mean he's a bad guy.

Their orders arrived to the table; a sundae and a milkshake. While Betty was spooning ice cream into her mouth, she noticed Nick just twirling the straw around in his drink, looking depressed, despite being happy moments ago. She asked if anything was bothering him, but however, Nick ignored her question. He was gonna break it to her now, but then regretted it afterwards. He fears that if Betty receives the news at this moment, not only will she be torn, but he'll have to live with guilt on his conscience. Thinking about it right now made him sweat. Betty hated seeing her current boyfriend like this, so she asked again. Nick just shook his head. Betty knew he was lying, so she tried one more time. Nick took a deep breath, but still refused to look direct eye contact with Betty. She's got him cornered. This is gonna take all day unless he says something.

"Betty, don't take this personal, okay? I mean, you have every right to be angry with me, and heck, you can even hit me if you like. I don't know how long I can live like this." "What are you saying?" "I don't think... ...I'm..." "Go on." "I don't think, I'm attracted to you. ...in any form."

Nick got his response alright, but not what he hoped for. She stood up, planted both hands on the table, then her voice carried across the room. It sounded like relief.

"It's about time you said something!"

The yelling caught everyone's attention, leaving the couple frozen. A public eatery isn't the best place to discuss this. To save them from any further embarrassments, Betty grabbed Nick's arm, pulling him with her out of the Candy Bar.

"YOU BETTER HURRY BACK AND PAY! YEAH!" Hollered Sam.

Betty took Nick into the alleyway of the Candy Bar, where they can have their conversation in private.

"What is this?" Asked Nick. "I don't feel attracted to you either." Betty replied. "Huh? Wait a minute, is it because I'm not good enough for you?!" "NO. It's just that... Something else." "Is that something else a someone else?" "Probably, although there's plenty of fish in the market." "Could you just make sense already?" "You see; Boys aren't my preference." "Then why did you just say there's plenty of fish in the sea?" "Market." "Whatever!" "Nick... I'm gay." "What?" "I like girls, okay!" "So, so you're what we call... ...'lesbians.'"

Betty cleared everything for Nick. She never set her eye on any boy. All the attention young men give her, such as flirting and catcalls, although from the outside she looks like she's amused, on the inside she just wants to scream. These male species annoyed her. She doesn't want them, she'd rather have a girlfriend if it weren't for her parents' homophobic nature. Jimmy wasn't any worse from those disrespectful pigs, but he still got under her skin. The poor clueless genius use to be infatuated with her, going through any measurements just to win her over. Even though she's nice to him, she always mocked him behind his back for his lovesick antics. Betty told Cindy she could have Jimmy just so she'd get him out of her hair. The day Nick asked her out on a date, she told him she'd think about it. At first she wanted to reject him, until her mother found out the proposal came from the most handsomest kid in Retroville, so she pestered her daughter into accepting the offer. Next thing she knew, she got stuck with, of all things, a boy.

"So, now that you know, I guess you'd rather not be around me anymore. The fact that I'm... ...gay." "Wait, Betty, you don't understand! We're in the same boat together!" "You mean you're gay, too?" "*Deeply sighs* Yes. I like guys. Just as you like girls. That doesn't mean I'm looking for a boyfriend." "If you're gay, why did you asked me out?"

Nick had been gay all his life, since he was five, but of course he never knew at the time. It was his emotionally abusive father that drove him into the bad boy facade he's best known for today. Not to mention his dad was heavily homophobic, and would mentally scar his son with degrading words that put him into an insecure state. Nick never allowed himself to show any affection towards the same gender. He knows he'll get judged, it'll ruin his reputation, and like his father said, "Society doesn't want f*gs, they wanna burn them!" What makes Nick question his existence more is the lack of people, people like him, on television/movies. He’s never even met another gay kid (up until now). According to adult "logic," being gay is gradually an explicit thing. So instead, he adapted this "ladies' man" image as a method of convincing people that he's straight, but it always leaves him unhappy in the end. Nick Dean; the king of cool, and macho extraordinaire, likes boys. How ridiculous it sounded. If this secret ever came out, his friends would turn against him, girls would cringe whenever they saw him, and every boy would start avoiding him. He'd be a bigger outcast than Jimmy Neutron. He just wants to be himself.

Since that day Betty and Nick rehearsed their parts for MacBeth In Space, and almost kissed, rumors spread throughout the school about them being secretly into each other. Nick likes Betty, but in a more platonic fashion. Repeatedly for months, Nick has denied his feelings for Betty to be romantic. Everybody began to get suspicious. Nick thought they were all thinking, "If Nick isn't into a hot fox like Betty, then he must be gay!" "Ewwwwwww, you mean he dates boys?!" "If that's true, then we finally found someone worse than Nerdtron!" To keep his true identity from slipping, it was about time he'd give them what they wanted.

"You know, Nick, you really didn't have to go through that trouble." "What was I suppose to do?! I panicked!"

Nick slouched down against the wall, and buried his face into his knees. Betty joined him. She could've sworn she saw a tear drip from his eye.

"Look, Nick. It's hard for me just as it's hard for you." "No shiz, Sherlock." "And, having to deal with the same experience, I don't know how to help you with this problem. There's nothing I can do to make you feel any better." "I feel SOOOO much better now. Thank you." "But, I do know one thing. We're stronger than we are. What our preferences mean doesn't make us any different from anybody else. It's bigotry that makes people think otherwise. Maybe someday, we can stop caring how people would judge us, and just be happy as ourselves, and maybe even fight for our rights just to show how strong we really are. We should learn to not fear everyday, and be comfortable with who we are. Just remember, there are still kids just like you. Take me, for instance."

Betty's speech wasn't the most inspiring, but it did help him feel a little less awful about himself. She's right. He shouldn't let his own insecurities drag him down, and just feel proud in his pride. If Nick ever wants to come out, he needs to make sure he's ready for it, maybe in a few years. Not only that, but he'll also talk his friends into understanding him better. Just in a matter of time, there will be no more hiding. His father's no longer around to tell him what to do. Everyone is free to be themselves.

"It's... nice having someone to talk to. I appreciate it, Betty." "The least I can do for another gay buddy." "Say, what do you say we call this whole relationship off and stage a breakup, in front of the whole school?" "Hmmmmmm, maybe tomorrow. That'll give me time to rehearse it. I'm gonna miss you buying me stuff." "Don't push it. Well, I'm gonna go pay off our orders." "Oh, and Nick? One more thing may I ask?" "Yes?" "Did you ever had a crush on Jimmy?" "Please, there's plenty of nerdy boys I'd rather kiss, and Neutron ain't one of them." "Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight." "Him, and Sheen."

[kpopfanfictrash]

Celestial (I)

Author: kpopfanfictrash, moodboard by @m00nk1ld (AN ACTUAL STAR. IT WORKS SO PERFECTLY)

Pairing: You / Hongbin / Taekwoon

Rating: PG-13 

Genre: Fantasy, Space Opera!AU / Royalty!AU

Word Count: 9,017

Description: In a distant galaxy stand six planets which together, form the Coalition. Furthest from the sun is Tenebris, a planet harboring 90% of the Coalition’s feared energy source. Tenebris is a brutal regime led by their shadowy leader, Hongbin. You are born to Exercitus, the warrior planet and serve as a spy in Taekwoon’s army. Your first mission is to pose as a translator to Tenebris, gathering information on Hongbin and his planet in order to return to Taekwoon. Once you arrive though, you find that neither planet nor ruler are what they seem.

The sun has not yet risen when you wake for the day.

The night is still cold, the air damp as you slip from your bed. Glancing behind you, there are two bodies still asleep under the covers. The sight offers a twinge of regret before you tie your robes tighter, walking into your bathroom. The alcove remains quiet, save for the sound of your own breathing and movement. It’s quiet here, squeezing paste from the tube to remove the scent of morning from breath. Nothing here to disturb you – nothing but your errant mind, thoughts and ideas you’ve long given up trying to silence.

Brushing harder, you attempt to scrub away all thoughts of last night. Lately, everything you do is unsatisfying; you’re uncertain when the life you lead ceased to be enough. Every solider on Exercitus knows their place – you are born, you are raised to understand strength, power, discipline. This is the Creed, the core of Exercitian society which is handed down by its Commander, Taekwoon. Taekwoon oversees the entire planet of Exercitus, serving as both head of the military and state – though here, these two are one and the same.

Exercitus, might of the solar system. The strength of the Coalition. The Coalition is the formal name for the solar system – six planets which orbit the sun, Rhea. Doctrine is the planet of learning and knowledge; Exercitus, the planet of military and discipline; Judicium, the planet of law and judgement; Pecunia, the planet of merchants and gold; Sollertia, the planet of art and creation; and Tenebris, the planet of shadow and power. All six form the Coalition, to which Exercitus belongs.

The other planets do not fight though, they exist solely to produce their specialties. You are the warrior breed, the one which leads in times of strife and battle. Other planets weigh in on certain aspects – like Doctrine, assisting in battle strategy, but largely, Exercitus remains on its own. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you wipe all traces of emotion clean from your face.

Looks aren’t something to care about, here. You’ve never considered yourself attractive, not in the common sense of the word. It’s more useful to be strong on Exercitus than pretty. Pretty fades, pretty ends when pretty is punched in the face – this is a lesson your mother taught you, so many years ago. It’s been a long time since you lived with your family, though this is not unusual for children of Exercitus. Children are taken from their homes on their sixth birthday – six, representing the six planets of the Coalition – and are placed into training, replacing their homes.

Most don’t remember their mothers or fathers, but you do. Exercitians aren’t exactly sentimental, but you remember your home with something close rto fondness. You were sung to sleep every night, which is outside the norm for your people. Your mother sang to you gently, in languages other than your own and you remember this still, in the back of your mind. You know this is uncommon, because the one time you mentioned it, the one time you spoke of this outside the your home – you were laughed at, mocked by your classmates until you punched their pretty faces and proved the lesson firsthand.

You haven’t talked about it since – not since your strength, your fists made that boy shut his mouth. At least that’s one thing about Exercitus. In the ranks of the military, there is little room for gender discrimination – it’s something unheard of, told only in tales from travelers to planets like Sollertia, Pecunia. Everyone on Exercitus is considered equal, everyone given opportunities according to size and weight. Nothing else matters when defending the ranks of the Coalition.

This leads to gender and sexuality being somewhat fluid. Right now there’s both man and woman in your bed, remnants of the night prior and you exhale, spitting hard at the sink. Rising your mouth, you try not to think about what comes next. It’s nice to fulfill your bodily desires but sometimes, you wish you enjoyed the person beside you when you woke up. This thought is a strange one – blasphemous, for most people your age.

There are no real families on Exercitus, not in the traditional sense of the word. Not like other planets, where children remain attached to their mothers and fathers like umbilical cords, never fully leaving or breaking that tie. No – on Exercitus, the Creed comes first. The Coalition comes first. Exercitians are tools, weapons and love only gets in the way. At age eighteen, you enter the Military after twelve years of training. You leave the Military only once, at age twenty-five – which is when you work half-time for six years and raise a family. Offspring are raised until handed over for training, and then their parents return to being instruments of war.

It’s a strange concept, wanting more. Exercitians don’t want more, Exercitians don’t need more because they’re the execution itself: the enforcers of planets, protectors of systems. You are the ones who keep everyone else safe, who allow growth to the colonies. It is other planets, innovating and changing and creating. Not Exercitians, not you. This thought grows bitter the longer you think about it, wiping the back of your mouth of one hand.

Twisting your hair into a bun, you tilt your chin up to look at yourself in the mirror. If you turn at the right angle, you could almost imagine yourself to be pretty. Shame creeps in at the thought, a sinking tendril of doubt snaking deep through your stomach. You are Exercitian, which means you are strong. Strong, is better than pretty. It is with this, you exit the room.

Your bedroom remains quiet, though you find you are no longer the only one awake. The woman – Lily, if you remember correctly – is already up, searching for her clothes on the other side of the bed. “Oh,” she starts, looking up in surprise. “You’re already awake.”

Arching a brow, you look towards your bed. “Would’ve been weird, if I’d just left my own quarters and slept in the hall.”

Lilly flushes, then nods. “Yes, true. Apologies, Centurion.”

Blinking at the name, you’re still not sure how to acknowledge the title. It feels strange, hearing the word directed your way and you end up simply nodding at the door. Lily turns to leave, pulling her shirt overhead – she leaves you alone, staring at the remaining man in your bed. You don’t remember his name, nor do you have any particular inclination to ask. He was fine, not as good with his tongue as Lilly, though his hips had more than acceptable rhythm in the places which counted. Deciding you don’t care to wake him up, you cross over to your closet. Pulling on the midnight-black clothing marking your rank, you stare at the silver stitching on the seams, the dark Insignia emblazoned over the front to proclaim your rank as Centurion.

The youngest Centurion in over four-score. Buttoning the final button and adjusting the material, you can’t help but feel disconnected to the title. It’s hard not to, since you don’t feel particularly authoritative. It was luck, all luck, which brought you the rank. Each time you’ve served in battle – three times, total – the act has been horrid. Fields filled with rank, foul odor of sweat and blood – screams which rip the air, filling the night with needless shattering of bones and of dreams. Each time you’ve gone has been nightmarish, and you’ve found little glory in those small pieces of hell.

The Coalition is at peace, but this doesn’t mean there aren’t occasional disturbances. Such events total two of your battles – the third though, the most recent, was one which occurred against a neighboring Galaxy. One threatening an outpost of the Coalition, promising to kill its inhabitants – until the Military flew in, your Legion and others, to protect the voices of those who couldn’t. It was in this battle, you earned your Insignia. It was a risky day, you were ill-prepared for it and a certain maneuver by your Cohort was received entirely wrong.

Your ranks were scattered, broken – while you retreated, you saw the Prime, lying dazed on the field. A Prime is the rank who commands a Legion – and in between a Prime and a soldier, what you were at the time, there are at least four different levels of command. You saved him anyways, dragging him back through no-man’s land to safety. As a reward for this bravery, you were given the rank of Centurion.

Fingers sliding over the heavy metal, you look down at the weight. It’s still strange, to hear yourself called Centurion. To know that you’re responsible for the lives of one hundred men and women. It’s strange still, to look at they who were once your peers, to have them look back in a mixed combination of fear and respect. You are the authority now, no longer the soldier.

In your bed, the man gently stirs and upon hearing this you leave, exiting quick into the hall. You straighten your clothes as you walk, knowing the man can see himself out when he wakes. This time of morning, Barracks is mostly deserted. Only a few early risers wander the halls, though most will wake within the hour. The life of a soldier on Exercitus is simple: wake, eat, train, eat, train, eat and sleep.

From a young age, you’re taught that everything around you is a weapon – even you, you are the most dangerous weapon of all. As a solider, you are utterly unpredictable. It’s this unpredictability which gives you the edge, which causes the Military to be powerful and enables the Coalition to thrive, for thousands and thousands of millennia.

Buckling your belt, you walk into the mess hall. Barracks is one of eight hundred Citadels on Exercitus. Citadels are cities, but only in the loosest form of the word. From the moment you’re born, citizens of Exercitus are raised together. You’re raised together, eat together, sleep together and live together. It creates this sort of hive mind, which becomes helpful in battle. It’s easier, to know the person beside you as well as yourself, it helps to know there are no surprises when you move to attack.

Add this to the list of reasons, why your newfound rank is strange. You’ve known the soldiers you lead since you were six, have known them since being brought from your mother’s home and taught to fight. To know you’re above them – this thought gives you pause, since though your rank is technically higher, there are still those who fail to respect your authority.

You know they don’t, though they won’t dare say so out loud. You know this by the hate in their eyes the bile to their words – you know that when they answer, “Yes,” they truly don’t mean it. When they wish you, “Fast sleep,” you know they hope you lie awake. And you do, on most nights. It’s hard to fall asleep, hard to succeed when the entire word roots for you to fail. Though you suppose this is fitting, since mostly you feel the same about the world.

Slamming your tray down to the table, you slowly lower yourself into a seat. It’s easier to eat alone, since words are distracting and take effort to compile. Not that any of your fellow Centurions could be called conversational, even on a good day. Most discussion in Barracks revolves around weapons, various training techniques, and whichever planet in the galaxy you might care to fight next. You have nothing to add to any of these subjects, so you eat your oatmeal in silence.

The main purpose of eating is stamina, so you chew harder and swallow a large gulp of your water. The only reason you’ve achieved so much, so fast, is due to hard work. You work twice as hard as everyone else, put in twice the amount of effort – it’s something your mother instilled in you, when you were a child. To work hard, keep your head down, and protect the Coalition.

“Hey.”

Glancing over, you spot an unfamiliar male. His face is unknown – though this is not unusual. Barracks alone, houses over eighty million people. An unfamiliar Centurion face, is just another drop in the bucket. You meet his gaze head-on, letting your stare rake his body. Tall, fair-skinned, a face you can’t help but want to punch. Most Exercitians don’t have a wide range of emotion, but the look on this guy’s face is clear condescendence. He thinks he’s better, without saying a word.

You continue to eat, shoving another spoonful of oatmeal into your mouth.

He cocks his head, as though displeased by your silence. “Hey,” he repeats, down his rather-long nose, “I was talking to you, newbie.”

Continuing to chew, you don’t swallow before adding, “And?”

Between the two of you are a man and a woman – Centurions as well, but entirely silent. They’re listening though, you can tell from the movement of their eyes. The whites flicker back and forth, like ping-pong balls at your verbal sparring match.

Satisfied by their attention, your attacker leans back in his seat. “I heard you screwed up a sim yesterday,” he notes, nonchalant.

Your spoon freezes, halfway to your lips. Staring into the bowl, you force yourself to resume eating – then glance at the guy, and try not to blink. “That’s none of your business.” You arch a brow. “Given my score still probably beat your piss-poor time.”

The woman snorts, causing your attacker to color. “Fuck off, Marion,” he mutters. “And you,” he sneers, returning his gaze, “should be more careful. You’ve been lucky so far, that’s all.”

This, you take as your cue to leave. Refusing to engage any further, you push yourself to stand from your seat. Leaving the bowl half-empty, you let it stand as a statement: even with a half-eaten breakfast, even with half your normal sustenance, you will still trounce his lazy, bulbous ass. Hesitation enters your thoughts, hesitation you quickly brush aside. You will be better than him today, you will do better – because he isn’t wrong, technically. In your sim yesterday, you did mess up a bit.

Sim is short for simulation – it’s part of training of the Military, a detailed level of battle strategy. As the youngest level of authority within the Military, sims are a Centurion’s first introduction to leadership. Thus far you’ve been good – very good – at the games, but your naiveite yesterday cost you some lives. You made a heroic move in the sim, only to turn around and realize you’d lost half your fleet.

Thinking this, you scowl, though you don’t turn around. As the youngest Centurion in the Military, it’s still your duty to act with decorum. Centurion is a low rank, relatively speaking – since the planet of Exercitus is divided into eight hundred Citadels, each of which houses over eight million citizens. One Senator governs each Citadel and beneath each Senator, reports eighty Tribunes. Tribune, is a mostly ceremonial role – you’ve never actually dealt with them face to face since they exist at a high level, in strategy and leadership you never really see.

Centurion, is even further than that. Reporting to each Tribune are one hundred Legions. A Prime commands a Legion – and below each Prime, are ten Cohorts. Beneath each Cohort, report ten Centuries. You are the leader of this last unit, a Century – hence, the title Centurion. One hundred individual soldiers remain beneath your control.

Despite this puny level of leadership, it is still higher than the eight million soldiers, residing in Barracks. You are still a leader, meaning you’re determined to act like one. The sims are just games, designed to make you better – it would not be becoming, to fight in real life over one. There’s a lot of tension over sims already, since whichever Centurion wins their round – the win is then marked, as you move up the boards.

The boards. A genius invention, or perhaps a terrible one. The boards are a ranking of every Centurion and depending on your number of wins, you move up or down in the ranks. Whenever a Cohort position opens, the Centurion ranked first, is the one to replace them.

Slowly, you turn your head at the board. The statistics remain unchanged, unmoved from last night. You sit in the same position, the same ranking you had yesterday: Y/N, 328,914/800,000. Turning around to face your attacker, you lean one hand on the table. “What was your name, again?” you murmur, soft as you can be.

The guy blinks, though doesn’t move. “Orion,” he responds, stiffer than before.

“Orion,” you nod, almost to yourself. Your gaze flicks back up, and you make a dramatic show of finding him near the bottom. “Orion: 677,751/800,000. Ouch,” you respond, turning away.

As you walk, he responds – and his words send a chill down your spine. “Get off your fucking high horse,” Orion drones. “The sims go easy on you, don’t they – even the machines, feel sorry for a whoreson.”

Freezing in place, you consider the options. You don’t have many, since Orion didn’t leave much. Any hesitancy to respond is viewed of as weakness – which is something you can’t afford, given the number of onlookers. Whoreson is an insult, one of the highest proportion. On Exercitus, the concept of gender and sexuality might be fluid but the idea of procreation and marriage, is surprisingly not. When you leave the Military at twenty-five, when you raise a child until the age of six, you are expected to marry – you are expected to form a familial unit.

Your mother did not do this. She and your father did not marry – and as such, Orion is calling her a whore.

Slowly, you turn around. “What did you say to me?” you ask, eerily calm.

Orion doesn’t heed your warning, doesn’t see the danger as he pushes himself to stand. “You heard me,” he repeats, smiling unpleasantly. “I said your mother fucked your father, but couldn’t get him to commit before he went and got his entire Legion unnamed.”

Suddenly, the walls of the room seem to blur. You’re barely thinking, when you launch yourself forward. Orion’s head snaps back, ricocheting sideways when your fist finds his jaw. Before he can react to this, you duck, spinning out of harm’s way to jab him straight in the stomach. Orion attempts to lunge, but by the time he’s turned, you’re already there. You make another strike to his throat, following this up with a knee to the groin – showing no mercy, when you grab him by the shoulders and knee him again.

Orion groans out loud, sinking to clutch at his nether regions – eyelids fluttering, while staring up at your form. “Fuck,” he mutters, and you smile – grimly.

“I don’t think you will fuck, for a bit,” you respond.

When you turn around, the room is silent. Blank eyes stare back at you, while a slow flush starts to stain your cheeks. The only thing you can do, is to move – you do so now, walking, though your body is numb, heart racing with adrenaline. Mentally, you check off your list – opponent disabled. No immediate danger from your surroundings.

A roar goes up from the crowd, deafening applause when you wince. It’s not unusual, for a fight to break out in the hall – what is unusual, is for it to be from Centurions. Citizens of your rank are expected to rise above it. You cannot lead soldiers, if you disagree amongst yourselves. Orion started the fight, you argue with yourself. He started this fight, though you were the one to end it.

Without quite meaning to, you smile. A gesture which disappears, when the doors to the hall bang open.

“Y/N!”

The sound of your name makes you stop, echoing off the stone of the walls. Everyone turns to stare as slowly, carefully, you look – your stomach sinking, when you spot the red and black Insignia marching towards you. A Prime – your Prime, to be exact. He walks until facing you, coming to a halt and surveying your body.

Two soldiers stand on either side. The male you don’t recognize, but the female – sucking in a breath, you recognize Lilly.  You can’t think about this for long though, as your gaze returns to Larsin. That’s your Prime – Larsin. A disagreeable man, who wouldn’t hesitate to whip you, if you called him by name. His hair is dark, eyes blue, with a jawline that could cut – you can hardly deny, your Prime is attractive. You’ve never heard about Larsin spending the night with anybody, though, nor would you expect this.

Snapping free from your thoughts, you form a salute. “Prime,” you greet. “Well slept.”

“Centurion,” he nods, a half-assed greeting. Realizing the silence around you, Larsin’s gaze flicks over the crowd. “As you were,” he calls, waiting until the hustle and bustle resumes. No one would dare disobey the command of a Prime, and Larsin only waits a moment before looking away. “You’re needed, Centurion. Upstairs.”

He turns on his heel to walk and on reflex you follow, gaze flicking up while you ponder his words. Upstairs, meaning the main part of the Citadel. Most life on Exercitus is spent belowground. This is where all the living, training, working quarters are: the only part of the Citadel built aboveground is the Chamber. The Chamber, a vaulted, hallowed space where everything of importance happens. Swearing-in ceremonies, holidays and celebrations – also punishments, when the offense is severe enough.

Swallowing, you try not to think about this. As Larsin exits out of the hall, banging open doors, you follow him dutifully. Perhaps it was the fight – perhaps you’re being punished for that. That would be an awfully fast turnaround, but you can’t think of anything else as you walk. You haven’t been to the surface in a while, haven’t had the need to.

Exercitus is not a pretty planet, not by anyone’s standards. Exercitus is a harsh, brutal landscape; perfect for training soldiers. The gravity of it is heavy, the air dense so when you fight on other planets it’s easier. Most of the structures are belowground, using the rock as a natural barrier against the elements. Only the topmost part of the Citadel sticks out above, made from the toughest elements in the Universe – able to withstand even the most punishing nature of Exercitus.

Larsin’s back remains rigid, climbing the stairs. You follow as well, forcing fear down in your throat. Such an emotion is shameful, and mustn’t be seen. It is your duty to remain brave, your job to be strong. You look instead at Lily, marching beside you. She doesn’t look your way, though she’s a head shorter than you, so maybe that’s part of it.

Lily is a light, delicate creatures – you must admit, that’s part of what drew you to her. Her vulnerability shocked you, especially on a planet like this. It’s almost strong, you think, to be so open in the face of the Creed. Vulnerabilities can be exploited though, and you wonder with a sinking feeling if that’s what’s happening. If Larsin has somehow used Lily, exploited her somehow.

The thought makes you twinge, though you push this away. That’s none of your concern, what goes on between them. Lifting your chin, you continue up the steps. The stairs are long, the noises of mess hall long since faded. All around you hums oxygen and machinery, the air temperature dropping while you climb.

The walls are plain, like most things in Barracks. Ornamentation is deemed unnecessary, and anything unnecessary is a distraction from the Creed. The hallway veers sharply left, and as the group of you turn the corner, Larsin holds up his hand.

“Halt,” he commands, looking at Lily. “As you were, soldiers. Return to the dining hall – commence with breakfast, and resume training.”

They both nod, turning without protest. You watch them go, disapproving of the situation. Larsin knows breakfast is nearly over, knows he’s just forced them to skip a meal. The two will go hungry during morning training, an asshole thing for Larsin to command. A braver person than the two of them, might have protested. Then again, you remind yourself, bravery is reckless – oftentimes, more trouble than it’s worth.

Motioning you to follow, Larsin continues. It takes five minutes and thirty-seven seconds to reach the end of the hall. You count each one internally, certain the timing is correct. It’s a skill you’ve taught yourself over the years, one you use when you’re nervous or bored. Reaching the end of the hall, Larsin opens both doors. He walks in first, barely giving time to prepare before you’re entering as well.

The room is familiar, though you cannot see it in full. You stare at the back of Larsin’s head – scared to look elsewhere, in case you cause offense. You don’t need to see the room, since you’ve seen it before. Above you is stone, below you is stone. Polished and smoothed, this extends until reaching the edge of the wall. The stone is not of Exercitus – no, it’s a special carted from Tenebris, made at the very end of the solar system.

Ten times denser than anything here, the only thing able to hold the weight of your atmosphere. The soldiers call it Atlas, though you’re uncertain if this is the name. The wall before you houses the window –this, too, is not made on Exercitus. Nor was this made anywhere in your solar system, no one in the Coalition having that skill or capability. The Chamber is the only room in Barracks with glass, the only room with a window, since it’s the most important room in the Citadel. The floor beneath you has seen its equal share of blood and tears – only some due to happiness.

Larsin comes to a stop, blocking your view. You don’t object to this, appreciating the extra time to clarify your thoughts. It’s been a long time since you entered this room alone – the time prior, was being sworn in as Centurion. The time before that, you barely remember. It was to accept your father’s ashes, a thing you were too young to fully understand.

Now you stare at Larsin’s back, emptying your mind of everything but your duty. Whatever you’ve done, you will accept your punishment with grace. You will accept it, and move on with your life. Such is the Creed of Exercitus, the life of a Centurion.

“Commander,” Larsin bows, sinking down on one knee. “I have brought you your Centurion, as requested.”

Head snapping up, the blood turns to ice in your veins. The scene seems to wave, while you reconsider the options. This is much, much worse than imagined. Over Prime Larsin’s head is the seat of the Senator – occupied, but not by Senator Glib. The Senator stands off to one side, hands twisted behind his back while surveying the room.

In his chair sits Taekwoon. Lee Taekwoon, the Commander of Exercitus – leader of the Military, and the highest voice of authority. Fighting to stay calm, you still your thoughts and meet his gaze. Taekwoon leans forward, gaze rising from your boots to your face. He rests his elbows upon his knees, tilting his head.

“She’s smaller than I thought she would be,” he comments – and you still. Lips tightening, you hold back your words. Taekwoon smiles in response, as though he knows your mind. “You have something you wish to say, Centurion?” he asks, blinking. “I can only imagine that’s why you’re still standing.”

Stomach dropping, you rapidly sink to your knees. Before you, Larsin’s back has stiffened – you can only imagine the beating you’ll receive, after leaving this room. If you ever leave this room, that is. It’s beginning to seem as though you may not. You can think of no other reason, why the Commander would be here. When your knees hit the floor, it jostles your frame – so much so, you wince at the sound.

Taekwoon merely laughs, voice floating over your head. “I did not mean to kneel now,” he corrects. “If you would not kneel upon my arrival – why pretend, after? It seems such formalities are behind us.”

When you lift your gaze, you find his expression has not changed. Taekwoon surveys you blandly, nothing but present in his eyes. Reaching out his hand, he gestures that you stand. “Rise,” he murmurs, waiting as you obey. “We have much to discuss.”

“With me?” you ask, unable to stop yourself. It’s pleasing, that you don’t stammer – most would, you imagine in this situation. Most would, speaking to the Commander of Exercitus: the most feared man in the Coalition, save one.

Taekwoon tilts his head. “You’re too far. Step around your Prime.”

You obey immediately, trying not to look at Larsin when you pass – the tips of his ears are red with anger, corners of his mouth held taut. Besides Larsin, the room is nearly empty. Only two others stand at the front, one the Senator and the other, your Tribune. You only recognize her due to the uniform; navy and gold threading, mixed with the Insignia. You’ve never seen her this close before, only from a distance, never having had a need. The Tribune stares as you walk, completely impassive. The picture of obedience, living embodiment of the Creed.

Behind Taekwoon stands the window and beyond, Exercitus. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the surface and your gaze lingers on it, now. The dual moons hang low in the sky, the starry night vast beyond that. Golden Doctrine is visible, hanging between you and Rhea, the sun.

If the glass extended further, you would see the other four planets behind you. They extend in a row, all the way out to Tenebris. As it is, you survey the landing pad of Barracks and see Taekwoon’s ship, resting in the middle – notable, from the Imperial Insignia stamped on its side. Beyond this though, nothing. Nothing but wispy sand tinged grey, with regret. Sand which crests into dunes, falls between the cracks of the ground.

Taekwoon clears his throat, returning your gaze. It’s uncertain which is worse – the nightmare outside, or the one within.

“I hear you’ve been fighting,” Taekwoon announces, quiet. “Fighting another Centurion. Such behavior,” he tuts, gentle, “is not ideal.”

It’s a struggle for you to remain still. “Not ideal,” you agree, facing forward. “But necessary, occasionally.”

The corner of Taekwoon’s mouth lifts. At his side, the Senator mutters – something which makes Taekwoon still, waving his hand. “Settle, Glib,” he exhales. “I made a statement, to which I expected a response. The Centurion has done nothing wrong.”

Still appearing sour though, the Senator nods. “If you decree it, Commander.”

Taekwoon’s gaze darkens. “I do. Centurion, I have a problem,” he muses, silken. “A very specific problem, requiring very specific aid. Speaking to my Senators, I bade them find me a specific individual: one with great talent, but unknown to other planets. One who might pass through their waters, unnoticed. Also,” he leans forward, finding your gaze, “I have need of a specific skill – one you just so happen to possess.”

Ignoring this, you blink lazily back. “Pass through, what waters?” You choose to focus on this – the rest will come later, surely.

Chuckling to himself, Taekwoon settles back in his seat. “Astute, aren’t you?” He arches a brow. “That’s good, it means you won’t be caught unawares. Unfortunately, though,” he sighs, as though put out. “Today’s display has placed me in a bit of a predicament. I need someone who keeps calm under pressure, not a hotheaded, jacked up Centurion throwing punches at each insult.”

Taekwoon’s voice hardens, becoming a sword by the end of his sentence. You can barely stand to meet his gaze, but you manage to do so. “I am not that kind of person,” you announce.  

“Oh?” Taekwoon seems unconvinced. “Pray tell, then – what was the fight about? What could have been said, to made you react in such a fashion?”

“He insulted my mother,” you respond, back stiffening.

“And?” Taekwoon sounds bored, as though it’s not enough.

“And,” you hesitate. “The unnamed Legion of my father.”

A low hiss escapes Larsin, surprising you. He doesn’t seem the sentimental type – which only goes to show, how serious the insult was. The Senator is also appalled, even Taekwoon’s gaze narrows. Only the Tribune does not move, though the corners of her eyes widen.

“I see.” Taekwoon’s fingers uncurl from the chair. “Then you should have punched him harder. Prime,” he barks, over your shoulder. “Find the man and remove his Insignia. He is demoted to soldier – desecration of fallen comrades, is not something which becomes a Centurion.”

“Right away, Commander.” Larsin rises, you hear him turn – the sounds of him exiting follow, and you focus on this rather than the memories at hand.

It’s impossible completely block them out though, not completely. An unnamed Legion is one stricken from the records of Exercitus. The name is removed, no longer able to be used by future Legions. It’s a gesture of respect, since an unnamed Legion is one where the entirety – all ten thousand of its soldiers – were killed in the same battle.

A harsh silence settles over the room, as Taekwoon sighs. The sound is softer, gentler. “I have a problem, Centurion,” he reminds you, returning your gaze to his. “One I need your help to solve.”

He pauses, as though waiting. Licking now-dry lips, you respond, “What kind of problem?”

“You seem young,” Taekwoon muses. “Perhaps too young to remember.”

“Try me,” you mutter, no longer caring about pretense. Making you speak about your father, his death is unforgiveable – no matter his rank. “You don’t appear much older than I am.”

Taekwoon smiles, only briefly. “Oh, you are bold,” he chuckles, gaze lifting over your shoulder. “You are also kind. Senator,” he drones, looking to where Senator Glib has taken a half-step forward – faltering, at the command in his voice. “It is fine. I don’t know if you remember, Centurion, before the lights went out?” Taekwoon says this as a question, while the Senator returns to his side.

Your gaze follows his motion. “I remember,” you respond, and you do.

When you were young, your mother use to sing to you with the lights on. There was a mobile hung above your bed, bright with lights which spun while she sang. Such a thing isn’t possible now, not the curfew. Curfew went into effect when you were nine, a forced lights-out at 20:00 – something which has lasted until present day. That isn’t all, though. You’ve heard rumors, unsubstantiated ones, that the planet of Exercitus is running low on power.

Taekwoon does not flinch at your expression. “The rumors are true,” he states, remaining calm. “We are indeed, running out of energy.”

At his side, the Senator shifts – startled, by Taekwoon’s honestly. Silence follows, in which you let this sink in. This fact isn’t a surprise to you, not really – what is confusing, is Taekwoon telling you this. It nothing to do with you, doesn’t affect you. This only affects you, in that it affects you all: affects your Legion, your Cohort, your Century.

“I noticed,” you respond, because he seems to be waiting for an answer. It would be rude, telling Taekwoon it was obvious – rude, to say they’ve done a poor job covering things up. Their meals are now smaller, the days shorter and sims weaker. It doesn’t take a genius, to figure this out.

Taekwoon’s eyes gleam, understanding. “I’ll be honest, Centurion – these are dangerous times, both for Exercitus and for the Coalition.”

Interest stirs within you, though you do your best to hide it. “Oh?”

He nods. “You know of Tenebris, yes?”

Swallowing the insult, you nod. Of course, you know Tenebris, the most feared planet in the solar system. Earlier, when you considered Taekwoon to be the most feared man in the galaxy, save one –Hongbin is that one, the stark ruler of Tenebris. He controls the planet, meaning he also controls ninety percent of the Coalition’s energy.

“I know about Tenebris,” you respond.

“But not much, I’d imagine,” Taekwoon allows, standing from his seat. “Tenebris is a mysterious planet, even to the scholars of Doctrine. It exists on the edge of our solar system ad little is known about it – save for their production and shipping, of the Coalition’s supply.”

“Yes,” you admit, tensing. “This is all I know about Tenebris.”

The Commander surveys you, only a second. “Lying doesn’t become you, Centurion.” When he sees you freeze, he waves a hand. “We shall talk about that later – right now, I face a problem. When I first assumed position of Commander, there existed a very strict status quo. Each planet would receive a firm ration of energy, decided by the Coalition at our bi-annual Summits. Over the past years,” Taekwoon pauses, then frowns, “the rations of Exercitus have decreased.”

“Decreased?” you repeat, dazed. You’re still thinking about his earlier words, the accusation of you lying – perhaps that is why Taekwoon called you, why he’s telling you all this.

He nods, stepping closer. “At our current rate of depletion, we’ll cease being able to sustain the current population within the year. Two, if we grant further energy cuts. Exercitus will fall, our Military will be weak, and the Coalition will be at dangerous risk for invasion.”

His words cut you, horrid and clear. “But – why?” you breathe, confused.

“I do not know,” Taekwoon responds, stiff. “I do know though, that I can’t let it happen. Exercitus must remain strong, just as the Coalition must remain strong.”

“But,” you hesitate, thinking this over. “Isn’t it the Coalition itself, deciding the shipments of energy?”

Something in Taekwoon’s jaw ticks. “True,” he nods, curt. “Though this doesn’t mean I receive the shipments I’m allotted, though.”

You nod, looking at the ground. Mind buzzing, you’re still trying to understand how all this pertains to you.  

“I the Commander of Exercitus,” Taekwoon speaks, softer. “I exist to uphold our solar system, but if it is a member of the Coalition plotting against us – what should I do then, Centurion?”

He waits for an answer – and answer from you and you stare, mind blank with the possibilities. It is something engrained in you from a young age, protecting the Coalition. To protect the system, but if the threat comes from within the Coalition – you hesitate. “I would ask why,” you state, meeting his gaze. “Why, would another planet of the Coalition want us weakened?”

“And?” Taekwoon replies, equally soft. “What logic would you find?”

The answer is there, waiting for you to see it. “We are the strongest planet,” you allow. “No one can stand against our Military, should we choose to invade. If we were eliminated though, there would be no one left to defend the Coalition. Its riches would fall, to whomever so desired it.”

“Exactly.” Taekwoon’s voice trembles. “The unfortunate part,” his gaze flicks over your shoulder, “is that this is still just a theory. I don’t know anything, for certain. I have only suspicions, and need confirmation to act. Which is where you –”

You inhale – sensing the attack a split-second before it happens. Whirling around, your eyes widen when you see Larsin’s fist, coming straight for your face. You duck, barely evading him and Larsin snarls – turning, though you’re already past him. You slam your elbow into his back, immediately following this up with a kick to the knee.

Larsin yells, noise harsh when the joint pops out of the socket. He turns again, roughly pushing the cap back in place – you don’t wait, punching him in the nose before he can see. Mercy is for the weak, and you refuse to let him win. Larsin’s head snaps back at the motion, blood pouring from his nose while you take a running start and tackle him to the ground.

The Prime buckles under your weight, growling when his back slams against the floor. He attempts to throw you off, so you backhand his face – slamming shards of broken nose back in his skull. You could leave him like this, could consider him defeated – but it is not in your training, nor is it your nature. Anyone can still be a threat and gritting your teeth, you grab hold of his head. Slamming his frame against the ground, you strike hard enough to daze. Larsin lets out a moan, attempting to prop himself up – only to shudder, collapsing back down on the ground.

Silence. Complete and utter silence, but for your panting. Chest rising and falling, you manage to stand from the ground. Your thoughts are hazy, dizzy with the adrenaline – only one thought remaining clear in your mind. You were set up – this was a test.

Taekwoon hasn’t moved, still watching you calmly. When he sees you look at him, betrayal in his eyes, he arches a brow. “When did you know?” he asks, voice carrying over the stillness.

Behind him, the others stand gaping. Both Senator and Tribune appear shocked – staring wide-eyed from Larsin to you, then back to Larsin. You are only a Centurion, yet you defeated a Prime.

“When Larsin left,” you spit out, glaring at Taekwoon. “There were no footsteps down the hall. You also kept moving, glancing over my shoulder twice. Once, when he did not leave. The second, when he re-entered the hall.”

Taekwoon begins to smile. “Correct,” he allows, inclining his head. “Most satisfactory, Centurion. Many would have assumed their environment safe, being in my presence. I have my decision,” Taekwoon declares, hands folded over his coat. “I have a job for you, Y/N.”

Blinking, you’re confused to hear him call you by name. This entire time, it’s been Centurion – it appears that now though, you are something more. Still, you don’t respond. Not yet, while you assess your surroundings. This is a way you are different, something to separate you from your peers. Exercitians are taught to respect authority – you were taught to listen; to obey, but only so far.

On Exercitus, no one ever tells that the enemy can be found within. You learned lesson firsthand, from the mistakes of your father. This was the reason his Legion was unnamed, this is the reason his ashes rest upon your mantle. There was a traitor in his Legion, one who led to the slaughter of battle.

When you meet Taekwoon’s gaze, you’re unsure how you feel right now. He tested you, rightfully so. If everything he said is true – you believe that it is – he needs someone to spy for him. A spy. The word leaves a sour taste in your mouth, one you do your best to swallow. A spy cannot be a follower, will not always have orders to obey. Taekwoon wanted to know if you could be observant, if you can get out of tight situations, should the occasion arise.

You understand this but still, you don’t like it. Taekwoon arches a brow. “Would you like to hear the job, Y/N?”

Exhaling once, you nod. It is not like you have a choice. “Tell me,” you request, voice flat. “Tell me what you need.”

Taekwoon’s eyes gleam, in the light of the moons. “I need intelligence,” he admits. “I need an individual to go to Tenebris, to infiltrate their society and determine what’s happening. I need to know why our resources are dwindling. I need,” he inhales, “to understand everything.”

“You want me to spy for you,” you summarize, lip curling with distaste. “Spying is not honorable, spying is not strong.”

Taekwoon turns, nearly laughing at your words. “Ah, reciting the Creed. Tell me, Y/N – what does the Creed mean to you? Strength,” he nods, “Power. Discipline – all markings of a good soldier. Not a great one, though,” he allows, coming to a stop before the window. “Do you ever wonder about the dichotomy, between our Creed and the medals?”

Remaining silent, you decide you have nothing to say. It’s true, you’ve often wondered. Your Creed mandates the following orders – but your medals recognize only the individual. They call out moments of bravery, ones the soldier disobeyed orders and ended up winning the war. It’s strange, to think about honoring such things when it is hammered into you from birth, to obey.

“The reason,” Taekwoon continues, hearing your hesitation, “is because ninety-nine percent of the time, the Creed is in your best interests. Most of the time, your leader will be correct, and the Creed gives the best chance of survival. This still leaves one percent, though.” Taekwoon pauses, surveying the horizon. “This is when we have need for the individual. This is when the Creed should be ignored.”

Staring at his profile, you find it oddly calming to hear this. “And,” you muse, breaking your silence, “this is one of those moments?”

Taekwoon turns, looking your way. “I believe that it is.”

“And I,” you pause, gathering strength. “I, am that one person?”

He nods, continuing to stare. “I hope that you are.”

It’s this word – hope, which convinces you. Looking at your hands, you find them speckled with blood from your fights. “What now?” you ask, closing them to fists.

Taekwoon smiles, somewhat. “Now,” he looks at the Senator. “You will be trained. You will learn the customs of Tenebris – ah! Now we talk about your skills. The ones to come in handy, the ones mentioned earlier.”

Your stomach sinks, as you start to understand. This is what you feared, when Taekwoon called you a liar – this is what you seem to fear, every day of your life. It’s beginning to make sense, why you were selected and not someone else.

“Whatever you’ve heard,” you interject his speech, eyes cold. “I don’t either birth, nor heritage, is relevant to this mission.”

“On the contrary,” Taekwoon states, bored. “Tell me, Y/N – do you still fluent Tenibi? I assume it was your father, who taught you. Most parents seek to educate their children, in the ways of their culture.”

You struggle to remain silent, while your lips tighten into a line.

Taekwoon chuckles, seeing your expression. “Come now, let’s not play games. Your father was unusual, was he not? An ambassador of Tenebris who fell in love with your mother. Unable to marry, due to our laws – but still, they had you.” Taekwoon arches a brow. The laws of Exercitus state only citizens, can marry one another. “Your father joined the Military to gain citizenship – unfortunately dying, before that day could arrive. Tragic,” he breathes, the word soft.

“Tragic,” you repeat, hands unclenching. The story is familiar – of course it is, since it’s yours. “How is this relevant?”

Taekwoon does not move, holding your gaze. “Ni appen adul ba.” I know you can understand me.

Lifting your chin, you exhale. “Ni ami dual.” I understand you.

Pausing again, Taekwoon allows these words to speak for themselves. “So, you see – you are valuable, Y/N. Not just for your military prowess, but because you speak the language. Your role will be that of a translator – a request Hongbin sent, one week ago.”

“One week?” Somewhat shocked by this, you stare. “You said I would be trained – how long do you anticipate, before I’ll be sent to Tenebris?”

Taekwoon adjusts his coat. “It took a long time to find you, a person suitable for the task. For Hongbin’s purposes, I will simply make the search longer. Someone speaking the language of both planets is, as I said, unusual.”

You nod, dazed. “I understand.”

“Good.” Taekwoon meets your gaze. “Then – as Commander of Exercitus, as head of the Military of the Coalition, protector of the solar system, I ask for your help. I ask you to serve your people, by accepting this mission and all it entails.”

“I accept,” you say softly, the weight of his words settling.

This will be dangerous. Tenebris is a dangerous place, even to you – there are few who step foot on the planet, even fewer who leave. Your father never spoke of it, not that you can remember. To travel to Tenebris, conceal your identity, gather information and return, unscathed – the chances are low, you realize this. But still, you must try.

Straightening your spine, you place a hand over your heart. “I accept the dangers and will serve, as requested.”

“Then it is done,” Taekwoon agrees, solemn. He looks sideways – to where the Senator and Tribune still stand. “Tribune, it will be your duty to train her. Twenty-eight Doctrine days, is the agreed-upon number with Hongbin.”

The woman nods, turning. You stare at Taekwoon, because Doctrine days are shorter than Exercitian – your planet spins slower, compared to the rest. This cuts even further, into your time to prepare. Taekwoon walks, jacket swishing around him – though he pauses at the door, looking over his shoulder. “Y/N,” he states, waiting as you turn. “Thank you.”

He disappears, Senator Glib close behind. You’re left standing with the Tribune and Larsin, who still lies hurt on the floor. “Call a medic,” the Tribune instructs, at the soldier who enters. “Tell them to come take care of Prime Larsin.”

Once this is underway, she turns in your direction – eyeing you warily, as though unsure what to say.

“Let us begin,” she states, and you do.

The flight to Tenebris is eleven hours, forty-two minutes and thirty-three seconds. You’ve been counting down since liftoff, though you’re not certain if your internal clock lines up anymore. Interplanetary travel affects things, messes with time itself. One year on Exercitus is not like on Tenebris – age is different there, as are the people.

It’s something you’ll have to get used to. Turning from the window, you survey the hold. The next scheduled flight to Tenebris was not for months, so you ended up hitching a ride from a passing cargo ship. It is not made for comfort, strictly utilitarian with a mostly empty hold, aside from your seats. Across from you sits a Cohort – not yours – who in all honestly, you’re not certain how got signed up for the job.

He sits tight, eyes scrunched while fingernails dig into his armrests. One minute in, he gasped, “Motion sickness,” and remained locked in that position since. At least he’s silent, not puking all over your new clothing.

New clothing, which marks you as Ambassador. Your fingers trail the bronzed buttons, forming a line down the center of your chest. One lesson drilled into you, over and over, is that first impressions are important. Appearances are as well, more so than on Exercitus. It’s strange to think about, and already you’re nervous.

There’s so much that could go wrong, in the coming months. You have until the Summit to solve this – six months, in Exercitian time. You have until the Summit, but so much could go wrong before then. You could slip, could cause offense – Hongbin might take one look, and know you’re a liar.

Tightening your jaw, you look at the stars. Fourteen minutes, eleven seconds until landing. It would have been calming, to take Taekwoon with you – his presence is intimidating, but at least then you’d feel less like an imposter. When you asked him to come, he said no. It would seem too suspicious, for him to fly across the solar system at the mere introduction of a translator. No, you must go alone – and thinking this, your fingers curl around your armrest.

You are not used to this kind of subterfuge. On the battlefield, in sims – sure, you’re used to feinting, to baiting and switching. Alone though, it feels different. Locking both knees together, you push away these thoughts. This is all for the good of Exercitus, for the good of the Coalition. You are the hero here, not the villain.

Leaning against the headrest, you continue your countdown. One minute, until Tenebris peeks through the clouds. Opening both eyes, you see you’re right – and leaning forward, you see flashes of rock dot the mist. They reach up like fingers, breaking into the fog but by the time you crane your head to look, they’re already gone. It’s too difficult to see, and you fall back in your seat. Counting down the final moments, until the bottom of the ship touches tarmac.

Without the roaring engine, there’s a ringing to your ears – one you ignore, unbuckling your seat belt. Pushing yourself up, you turn to your Cohort, relieved to find him a less sickly green than before. Brushing lint from your jacket, you square your shoulders – you let the Cohort lead, following close behind.

The ramp is already lower – you see it ahead, natural light filtered in from the end of the ship. The two of you walk in this direction, your heart beating wildly. While you move, you school your expression to neutrality. Hiding your emotions, and remembering your cause.

You’re not sure what you expected, stepping out of the craft. The light you saw, the natural sunlight – it’s not. Your gaze flicks overhead, recognizing holo-screens. It’s set to a forest, sunlight dappling the branches while you step down on the tarmac.

The ship is silent, perched on its thrusters – you see this for only a moment, gaze drawn to the people before you. Your Cohort walks steadily, leading the way for you to follow. You do slow slowly, examining the Tenebrians. The first thing to strike you, is how differently they’re dressed. At home, everyone around you dressed mostly the same. Exercitian Uniform denotes rank, social status – nothing more. Clothing here on Tenebris also seems to note social status, though not in the same way.

Expensive fabrics like silk, velvet – things you’ve only read about – they all shimmer and drape around bodies of varying sizes. It fascinates you, so much that you don’t notice the man standing in the middle of the row. Not until you’re standing before him, until your Cohort bows at the waist. Remembering the slight, you made meeting Taekwoon, you quickly follow suit. Bowing with a twist of the hand, waiting until the man clears his throat in introduction.

“There’s no need to bow,” he muses, when you look up. “Welcome to Tenebris – I am Hongbin.”

[ Celestial Master List]

Author’s Note: Hi. Thank you for reading! I know there aren’t as many readers for VIXX (tragic) but I hope you enjoy this universe, since it’s already one of my favorites to write. Thank you again!

© kpopfanfictrash, 2018. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[macgregorhoughton]

First off, thanks for sharing your headcanons, I love them! I'm really hoping theres gonna be ride references too, from the clips we're getting the puns at least. I'm gonna be watching the backgrounds for any sneaky references to the Society but I bet you're right, its going to be in there somewhere. I’m the same with the Native issue, I’m a bit worried how they’ll deal with it but hope they might have a bit of awareness and address how messed up some of the stereotypes the ride had were- cont

Response under the cut! (following asks copied there too for reference)

First of all before I respond to anything, you do not have to apologise. This is quite literally my dream way to spend my time- talking to someone about a thing I like at length. The fact that you checked all the posts I made and took time to respond to them with your thoughts means the world to me.

2- I’m also really hoping we get a lot for McGregor (wtf is with that alternate spelling Disney?? But I do want the other two to call him Mac, I’d love that), learning to relax and find his place. I LOVE that Lily gets to do physical comedy, you’re right female characters often only get to be funny so long as that means they can still be sexy while doing it. Lily looks like she just goes “nope” to that and dives headfirst into a bit of slapstick and I love her already- cont

3- I really like Dwayne, hes got a warmth to him that comes across in Frank, even if hes trying not to show it to the siblings at first. I really want proper sibling moments too and I love that little one we got in the clip. Like, “you don’t get to laugh at my sister, now excuse me while I go give her a hand while laughing at her”. Like thats a great example of having siblings, I’ll help you out, but I’m totally going to mock you while doing it, but no one else can. BTS have me hopeful too- cont

4- I love your idea for the coming out scene. I think they’d be walking a very fine line in order to get it right, but if they did it could be wonderful. I really really hope we get that scene, no skirting around it or making vague illusions, I want McGregor to say “I’m gay” outright. Like, we’ll all know he is even if they don’t let him say it but for once I want Disney to live up to what they promised and let an actual main character be actually gay.- cont

5- I love the connection with the lights for our trio in the posters, I didn't put that together. I really want them to be a proper Trio, I’m really hoping this is a success so we can get sequels. Even if they’re terrible I still want them to see these three together. FRANK IS HUGGING MCGREGOR, I’VE GOT A GOOD FEELING ABOUT THIS ALREADY. I don’t really have many thoughts on our three villains, other than I'm getting evil musketeer, smug plantation owner & WWII in that order- cont

6- I LOVE THAT GIF SET OF THE PUNS SO MUCH!! McGregor’s little smile and his laugh, hes loving it, Frank is loving getting a reaction, Lily is going to eventually find it funny how unfunny they are. I can’t get over how much I love McGregor’s little face in this, I can’t want for this scene, I’m gonna join you in imploding. Also, in your protective brother gifset, is he wearing a little tartan/ plaid suit? Love it. And on that note, I adore Lily’s costumes- practical and realistic but flattering

7- ok so thats me taken up far too much of your ask box, I haven't even property looked at the press tour things yet, but I do have one more thing, I have a theory about how Jack ends up in the middle of Emily and Dwayne's kiss if you'd like to hear it. Thanks for kickstarting this fandom and the wonderful gif sets, we're so close now! - Skip

So on to my very long response!

I've watched SO much about the ride just so I'm prepared to catch any reference. They just released Behind the Attraction on Disney+ and ep 1 is about the Jungle Cruise ride (Dwayne Johnson is in it too!). He talks about how much he loved the ride as a kid and used to imagine himself as a skipper which is SO cute and I'm so happy his dreams came true (and I find it very relatable as someone who dreams about being a raptor handler at Universal).

I'm genuinely a lil mad that the spelling changed. Because if you google it really everyone thought it was McGregor, they must've at some point released something on the movie for the press with that spelling and then changed their mind. Now everyone has it wrong because I suspect these featurettes are also gonna be the DVD/Bluray extras so I'm confident this is the final spelling. However I will continue to live in denial until I see the other spelling ON SCREEN.

"I really like Dwayne, hes got a warmth to him that comes across in Frank, even if hes trying not to show it to the siblings at first." Yes! I love that every character is a trope that I ADORE. Frank is the cynic who thinks everyone just wants to cheat you anyway and miracles don't exist who eventually cracks and warms up to people and shows that there is a soft, warm person in there after all. Lily is wildly optimistic and aggressively individualistic, not trying to fit in or caring about what anyone thinks and will probably have a moment of losing that optimism and doubting herself after all. And McGregor is the person who appears to think he's better than everyone, who's pampered and refuses to sacrifice any of the luxuries he's used to until he reveals he's gay and you realise most of it was just a show to cover up how hurt he really is. Three PEAK character tropes we're working with here and COMBINED with a reluctant-allies to lovers and a siblings trope.

"Like, “you don’t get to laugh at my sister, now excuse me while I go give her a hand while laughing at her”. Like thats a great example of having siblings, I’ll help you out, but I’m totally going to mock you while doing it, but no one else can" I have a gifset for that queued already, I love that you also focused on that rightaway bc I really went "Siblings! peak sibling energy!!" and gifed it immediately.

Based on the reports (that I cannot stress enough I have no idea how accurate they are) he doesn't say "gay" but it's unambiguous what he's talking about. Let's hope that's true! I'm imaginging some sort of "relationships with men" or "no interest in women but rather men" or sth like that. I hadn't really considered that it might be ambiguous to someone who doesn't know he's supposed to be gay so that's a new fear unlocked lmao

I'm going to be so sad if we don't get sequels cause so many franchises with several movies don't have a core group of actors that are just friends and get along as well naturally as these three. Or if we get more movies and Jack isn't in them or sth like that. Like any future where these three aren't the leading trio in more movies is a nightmare.

"I'm getting evil musketeer, smug plantation owner & WWII in that order" this sent me I swear. I'm most interested in Edgar Ramirez bc I'm curious abt the whole "conquistador alive "today"" thing. also what's up with the snakes lmao.

McGregor laughing at Frank's puns alone could sustain me another year if I had to wait that long for the movie. Luckily I don't have to. It is so wholesome tho, like the fact that they're gonna get along and also get closer and McGregor won't end up sidelined for being a bitch until the last minute or sth is so wonderful.

And yes! It's tartan! We've seen p little of the beginning of the movie in London and since that's gonna be focused on just Lily and McGregor I'm so excited bc we got so little content so there's gonna be SO much in the movie to look forward to that I can barely even piece together!!! (All we know is lily will steal the arrowhead before falling out of the window which mcgregor sees and he immediately follows her so I assume he knew to come there and that there's a scene where she asks him in one of their bedrooms about wanting to go on an adventure. So I'm assuming the bedroom scene comes first and she'll tell him about the arrowhead, he'll refuse to help her but decide to come last minute because he's worried about her (and the worry is immediately proven right as she falls out of a window lol). But we know so little that it's a really loose theory.

And yes!! Lily's costumes are so good. Frank calls her Pants so they will absolutely address that she's dressed very unusual for a woman of her status in 1916/17 and I hope they explore that a little and address where she even gets her clothes and everything. I mean Emily Blunt looks good in everything but the costume department really made something gorgeous with this. She is, for the time the movie is set in, very gender nonconforming which I love in a female lead. And Emily described Lily's fighting style as very Indiana Jones and brutal without much tactic or thinking and just brute force and I really would die for this characterisation. Like when I compare this to similar female leads like in The Mummy for example they're usually highly feminine, aggressive only in their attittude and witty banter but always emphasised to be beautiful and wearing dresses and lots of (usually historically inaccurate) makeup and they get like one scene where they smack the bad guy with sth heavy or sth so noone can say they're a damsel in distress even though they are. But Lily feels very much like a coherent person to me. She's very unusual for a woman at her time, her desire for adventure is in line with how she fights and dresses but she doesn't seem to have the "uwu I'm not like other girls" thing going on, she's just exactly who she is and wants to be.

and of COURSE I wanna hear your theory are you kidding! Cause I still haven't figured it out at all lmao. I just settled on "she probably meant he was off screen but right next to them while they filmed it" or sth bc I couldn't make sense of it otherwise.

also I haven't posted everything new directly here I think, but you probably know where to look for the new stuff. like there's some clips on their instagrams and most stuff is on youtube.

[aion-rsa]

Bridgerton Review: Netflix Series Redefines Period Romance on TV

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This Bridgerton review is spoiler-free.

With concise storytelling, character development, and big-budget Hollywood aesthetics, Netflix’s latest original television series, Bridgerton, represents the best of British period drama. The series is based on Julia Quinn’s romance novels and production company Shondaland adapted the books with a unique focus on Black and POC representation rarely seen in period dramas. It is safe to say the series has set a new standard for other productions in the genre to follow. Some viewers may be concerned that the pre-release promotion and dialogue around Bridgerton may just be giving lip service to advancing diversity and representation. But, when it comes to racial inclusivity, Bridgerton lives up to and even surpasses expectations.

Adapting the Bridgerton novel series for TV is particularly tricky as each book focuses on one romantic relationship with other characters moving in occasionally conflicting orbits as supporting characters. The series’ scripts successfully transform the story into a true ensemble effort while also weaving in occasional changes and characterization shifts original to the series. 

The main focus of the miniseries is, of course, the Bridgerton family, as widowed Lady Violet Bridgerton (Ruth Gemmell) attempts to steer her eight children through growing up and the marriage market. From oldest to younger: Anthony (Jonathan Bailey) inherited his father’s title Lord but he’s shirking his responsibility. Benedict (Luke Thompson) is a spare heir and realizes he can forge his own life outside of the strict lines of the Ton. Colin (Luke Newton) is now exploring the marriage market. But all eyes are on the oldest daughter, Daphne (Phoebe Dyvenor), as this is her debut into society. Her younger sister, Eloise (Claudia Jessie), rejects the marriage market but still manages to pay attention to the society gossip. 

Lady Violet is not the only mother in the Ton with daughters to marry off. The brassy and ostentatious Lady Portia Featherington (Polly Walker) wants Prudence (Bessie Carter), Phillipa (Harriet Cains), and Penelope (Nicola Coughlan) to secure good matches, but suitors aren’t exactly keen. It’s also not exactly helpful that they have to host Lord Featherington’s (Ben Miller) hot cousin from the countryside, Marina Thomspon (Ruby Barker), who could turn potential suitors her way. 

Although Queen Charlotte (Golda Rosheuvel) is the head of the social scene, the real boss is the gossip mill. The mysterious Lady Whistledown (voiced by Julie Andrews) knows who was the worst dressed at the ball, who had a tryst, and who made a major social faux pas and is all too eager to spill everyone’s secrets in print. 

Although Lady Whistledown is perhaps the most fantastical element in the script, her omnipresence in everyone’s affairs is a necessary representation  of the limits on reimagining Regency society. At its core, the Ton is obsessed with sustaining wealth, titles, and property. Marriages of virgin women to the eligible bachelors ensure financial and social security for the next generation. The high class single men could have numerous liaisons while only at worst be called a “rake” while the reputation of a wealthy single woman is completely destroyed. This dichotomy is essential to understanding the novel and, in turn, the choices the characters make throughout the episodes.  

Although there are constraints in terms of gender and class politics, the plot leaves the Black and POC characters free from interacting with slavery and colonialism. This is where the impact of having Black and experienced inclusive drama writers, such as Doctor Who’s Sarah Dollard, can be seen the most. While some critics may insist that this is a piece of realism the show needs, the intense focus on fantasy renders the need for realism moot. There are only two references to slavery: one is an illusion of a historical event during the slavery era and the other is a reference to Black assimilation into society. Both could be interpreted as classism clashes, but the first is definitely a historical Easter Egg of sorts. All of the Black and POC characters deal with family, relationships, and in some cases financial conflicts that anyone can relate to.  

Simon, the Duke of Hastings (Regé-Jean Page), is the Ton’s most eligible bachelor. He contains the multitudes of Regency leading man tropes. Simon is handsome, has several million pounds in the bank, and refuses to marry despite being the most eligible bachelor. The script does a much more effective job in portraying Simon’s backstory to explain his hesitancy towards marriage and raising a family. Viewers see flashes of Simon’s father mocking his stutter and calling him a disgrace to the title. At the same time, the development of Simon’s character shows an acute awareness of avoiding negative stereotypes of Black men, especially regarding anger and assertiveness. His pride and intransigence is clearly a trauma response. By the end, even the most skeptical book reader will recognize that a switch in physical appearance didn’t completely change Simon’s personality. 

Lady Danbury (Adjoa Andoh) acts as Simon’s godmother and advisor. She is an imposing figure but her strength comes from her political and business connections and not from the usual “strong Black women” tropes and, on the flip side of her power moves, is her firm yet tender relationship with Simon. One can argue she is above both Lady Bridgerton and Lady Featherington in the social hierarchy. Black characters like Lady Danbury are extremely rare in period dramas and it is due to the screenwriters’ commitment to shifting the existing narrative. It would have been easy for the screenwriters to stop there as far as featuring Black characters, but Bridgerton adds original to the show characters to enrich the book narrative. 

Will Mondrich (Martins Imhangbe) is a boxer who is hoping to provide a more stable living for his wife and kids. The character is a nod to history as Bill Richmond, a former slave turned bare-knuckle boxer is a Regency celebrity. Will is also Simon’s friend and occasional sparring partner. Their conversations end up revealing information the women in their lives are not privy to. It would be easy to label him simply as a foil for Simon, but his livelihood presents an intersection of class and sporting ethics at a time before professional regulation. Men of the Ton spend thousands betting on Will’s fights, but he takes home only a fraction of those winnings.  Not only is there more exploration of what Regency men did in spaces away from women, Bridgerton ensures that there are Black and POC characters representing every level of society. 

Marina’s storyline is clearly a byproduct of class and gender politics versus race. She is the opposite of Daphne and the Featheringtons, as she comes from the countryside and lives modestly. Lady Whistledown makes particular note of her ability to attract interested suitors. Her natural hair and visibly African features are seen as a positive thing, and many come to call on her which is such a refreshing sight in a genre so stuck on white standards of beauty.  Marina may not wish to be constrained by the rules of the Ton but she does not have that luxury. She must make her way through society to make the best of what is offered to her.

Many in the audience may also be looking to see if Bridgerton measures up to previous Regency dramas. It measures up in terms of acting quality and set design but it will fail if people insist on holding the show to historical accuracy standards the creative team rejects. First of all, it is disingenuous to compare a modern romance novel adaptation to adaptations of novels written during or shortly after the Regency. In addition, the show’s extensive focus on the richest members of Regency society is in stark contrast to previous miniseries which portray rural landowners and minor gentry. Austen’s characters in particular are at least one to two full social classes removed from the Ton. 

The costumes are the biggest visual assistant towards crafting a different aesthetic than previous productions. Queen Charlotte’s sky high Afro wig paired with massive brocade gowns, Penelope’s sunshine yellow embroidered dress, and differences in the cut of the mens’ breeches only scratch the surface of the purposeful design choices. 7,800 costumes are featured in total in Bridgerton, which is easily double or triple the amount of variety in lower budget UK productions. This is a cornucopia of stylish treats for fans who are willing to set aside their design biases. Many will end up seeing themselves as possible members of the Ton and imagine themselves at a ball. Some historical costumers are already discussing which characters they want to recreate costumes for.  

Those who wanted to see an exact replica of existing white-centric aesthetics should definitely avoid the show. It should also be pointed out quite a few of these critics gave productions such as the 2016 War & Peace miniseries, the live action Beauty and the Beast, and Marie Antoinette, a pass on anachronistic and fantasy styling purely because white actors were wearing these costumes. 

All that’s missing in the Ton’s elegant mansions, country estates, and stately townhouses is indoor plumbing and electricity. Despite all the talk by showrunner Chris Van Dusen and others on the production team about Bridgerton purposefully moving away from recreating history, the set design of the interior and exterior locations show a surprising level of attention paid to era-accurate details. Netflix’s almost unlimited budget resources were skillfully used to secure the best UK locations, furniture, and set decorations. The design of scenes such as the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens and the are where the influence of historical advisor Dr. Hannah Greig is most visible.

Genre purists may bristle at Bridgerton being described as a “Regency Gossip Girl” but the Lady Whistledown subplot was an overarching plot in the book series before the show existed. Her commentary ties all of the main and subplots together in an effective introduction for non-readers and is an essential component of building the world of the Ton as distinctive from previous productions. 

Every good drama needs some mood music to set the tone. Kris Bower’s score is a creative mix of orchestral music and sweeping instrumental covers of recent pop tunes. What’s better to evoke the mood of drama at a ball than a cello pushing out “Bad Guy” by Billie Eillish? This is one other aspect where sticking to authenticity would result in blandness. Bower’s work is one more example of the show featuring Black creatives behind and in front of the camera. 

Read more

TV

From Bridgerton to Hamilton: A History of Color-Conscious Casting in Period Drama

By Amanda-Rae Prescott

TV

How Bridgerton Can Avoid Outlander’s Mistakes

By Amanda-Rae Prescott

Romance, lust, and love are critical components of the miniseries. Viewers that are opposed to more than hugs and kisses should give the series a wide berth. Despite Regency society being known for having strict rituals around courtship, they were not prudes. Bridgerton replaces the Victorian and modern religious tropes common in the genre with vivid portrayals of male and female desire in hetero and queer relationships. A lot of the strictly PF relationship content viewers expect from Regency dramas comes from Victorian purity culture plus religious moralism and is not accurate to the era. These ideas also have racist undertones as well. Having an open minded approach to the variety of human emotions around relationships enriches the overall story versus productions which use sex scenes for shock value. Some critics may believe this to be the case, but this is a fundamental misunderstanding of what romance fiction is all about.  

Although the entire cast brought their A-game to Bridgerton, there are a few standouts that must be specifically mentioned. Phoebe Dyvenor and Regé-Jean Page have excellent chemistry and anti-chemistry depending on the scene. Ruth Gemmell brilliantly portrays Lady Violet as iron-willed but with an endless supply of affection for all her children. Adjoa Andoh brings out the best of Lady Danbury from the books. Nicola Coughlan proves she’s a formidable force in drama as well as comedy. Sabrina Bartlett’s past work in portraying women on the margins of the 18th and 19th Centuries comes through in Siena Rosso.   

The main elements the show loses points on are certain teasers for future plot development. Some viewers may feel that the series falls slightly short on queer representation as that plot line isn’t fully developed by the last episode. In addition, the resolution to the most problematic element in The Duke and I may still leave some viewers unsatisfied as ethical questions remain. 

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Bridgerton’s eight episodes show the endless possibilities for expanding diversity in romance and period drama on-screen if screenwriters are willing to work alongside authors on a fresh take of their literary world.  

The post Bridgerton Review: Netflix Series Redefines Period Romance on TV appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[nostalgicpirate]

The Long Story

There was a time in my childhood when concerns about sexuality, gender, and other such matters were all but absent.  I flowed from day to day, each an epoch in itself, not wanting an explanation of the world, but simply living it.  Then came the pivotal moment, an event so traumatic as to be the catalyst of every negative event in my life from that point forward, or so it seems.  

I remember little of my life before the divorce, before foster care, before meeting my abuser.  My earliest memories are locked away, kept from me by the passage of time and my minds own selfish insistence on me persisting.  But I wont talk about those events in much detail now, only the affects to that cause.

I found myself living with another family, kept apart from all my siblings but my sister Allison, and with new parents and new brothers.  I remember Brain the most frequently when I think of the themes I will contain within this exercise.   Brain was an effeminate teenage boy who was one of the birth children of my foster parents, his voice was high and giddy, and he had a kind of energy that I had not experienced before.  He crossed his legs at the knees, he was concerned with his physical appearance in a way that somehow seemed taboo, in fact, all of his predilections seemed somehow against the grain, much to the chagrin of his, and now my, parents.  I didn't know what “gay” meant, but I heard the word for the first time then.  Too young to concern myself with things like sexuality, I thought it just meant the way he behaved, his voice, his mannerisms.  Attraction, I didn't understand, WAS a part of it, but I couldn't conceive of such things.  I did know that his parents and siblings found it amusing and somehow damning as if his “different-ness” somehow made him ridiculous.  I remember trying to take on Brains behaviors and was met with the same ridicule as he was, but they simply thought I was mocking him and thought little of it.  

Even as a child I liked to grow my hair long, and at that age it was a blonde so intense it was almost white. They called me cotton-top as an endearment because of it.  I was slight of build, my face was lean and thin, and I was short for my age.   Consequentially I was often mistaken for a small girl, something that I think bothered my mother more than me.  It bothered me then, but not enough to stop me and my sister from braiding each others hair.  

I wont go too much into detail of the events of my abuse in this piece, I've done that in other mediums, other pieces, and it doesn't need to be tread over again.  There is such a thing as beating a dead horse, and that isn't the purpose of me writing now.  Suffice to say I started my sexual experience as a human young, and with a much older man.  Even after I left foster care, my mother would let me spend nearly ever weekend in his “care”, and not understanding at first that what he was doing to me was abnormal, I still loved him like a father.  Years would go by in such a manner, even after my family moved from the suburbs of Richmond (where he lived) to the blue ridge mountains outside of the town of Crozet.  As I aged I began to understand that most boys weren't like me, most boys didn't have this secret thing that occurred with their “fathers” when the lights when out and we were supposed to sleep. As I began to enter puberty the acts became pleasurable, but somehow all the more wrong.  I liked it, what I felt when things happened, but I knew that it was wrong.  The confusion of both enjoying and being horrified by what was happening to me will never leave me.

At a time when most boys were on the look out for girls, I didn't know what to think, how to behave.  My friends sensed that I was stunted in this way, and one by one abandoned me, no longer wanting to spend time with me.  I found myself attracted to girls, but also enthralled by the idea of boys. Going to school became horrible, I never knew where to look, or how to act, or how to speak.  Through middle school I stopped socializing all together, into high-school I had no friends.  My grades plummeted, I stopped taking care of myself physically, my long hair became matted and full of knots, my clothes I hardly washed.

Discovering the internet was an important turn for me, both the secret and at that time painfully slow world of pornography, and the mild degree of social interaction afforded by chat rooms.  It was here I could express the apparent taboos I had acquired or had been born with without persecution, as my peers had already taken to treating me like a pariah and calling me “gay” or “faggot” at every turn.  With slowly downloaded videos I found myself experiencing pleasurable acts separate from the abuse that had happened to me.  This became important because my malefactor had disappeared from my life nearly overnight, and I didn't have him or his creative assortment of magazines to keep me company.  At first it was men and women, then trans women (whose juxtaposition of genitals and apparent gender amazed and excited me) then in the chats I started talking to young men my age.  I don't remember the first time I had cybersex with a boy, but I do know that it was always “by accident”.  I found myself unable to chat in the main room of the chat rooms, the regulars had too closely knit a group of friends, and even in that digital environment I was too scared to do that.  Instead I'd enter a private chat with all assortments of people, trying to find those that wanted to talk about things of a sexual nature a lot of the time, but also trying to form some kind of social connection, but my life was sorely lacking that at the time.  Upon entering a private chat I'd rattle off the now infamous anagram “ASL” (age, sex, location), and SOMETIMES the person would be male and within my age group.  Those that weren't immediately turned off by me being male as well would then SOMETIMES want to engage in sexual acts.  Keep in mind that these things didn't happen with ONLY males, but with a wide variety of people.  I always had my eye out with a trans person, something that was then a rare find in chat rooms due to stigma.  The advent of the webcam took things up a notch, deep in the midnight hours I'd fine people to display my pleasure too, sometimes men, sometimes women.  I began exploring my body in methods that were taboo among the “straight” led society I live in.  

My first partner outside of the chat rooms was a young woman about my age, but only by happenstance, she pursued me, and if she hadn't it would have been many more years before I found someone.  This is another period of my life I'm going to gloss over, because it isn't pertinent to what I'm trying to say in this piece.  What I will say is that there was a person inside of me that hardly spoke, who I think started in those chat rooms, or maybe just opened its mouth for the first time, and Rebecca, my first love, was the first real person to experience that part of me.  

Gender is a complex subject, or so I'm discovering.  As I said earlier, I was often mistaken for a girl as a child, and there were girlish things that I enjoyed, but I always was keenly aware that that part of me wasn't welcome.  Any deviation from standard male behavior was savagely mocked by peers and family alike. I found little ways of acting out, however, the length of my hair being one of them.  To keep people from mocking me further, as soon as I began to grow facial hair I forsook shaving altogether and grew a long beard, an ability I thought at first a blessing.  In high-school, having a beard meant people no longer took me for a girl, people mocked me less, people kept their distance.  

It was probably that beard that attracted Rebecca in the first place, she used to refer to me as “goatman” as a loving endearment.  However, in private moments together over the phone in the night I began to show a different side of myself, when speaking my voice would become light and go up a few octaves, almost a mimicry of Brains voice from my childhood, but even more so.  It wasn't just my voice, it was my body language, my mannerisms, it was me, or some part of me, speaking out loud for the first time.

Realizing that who I was was fractured wouldn't come for many years, what I did know is that in those private moments, in that identity that I could only share with her, I was truly happy, maybe for the first time since I was a small child. It was, however, one of the reasons she eventually left me for another partner, and that hurt tied itself into the fear of sharing that part of myself, and it would be years before I had the courage to do so again.        

Eventually I graduated high-school, namely because I transferred to an alternate school with open minded staff and a smaller student body.  I found myself then on the verge of life but with two major problems having been recently discovered. I was disabled, physically, and mentally.  I had what the doctors at the time suspected was a form of schizophrenia (they didn't know about my sexual abuse, however) and what would later be determined to be a severe form of PTSD.  I also had a debilitating spinal deformity known as Scheuermann's Kyphosis.  Kept apart from society by the crippling social anxiety from the PTSD and the very literally crippling kyphosis, I started the process of getting disability, and with a few years moved in with my brother with my “own” income.  

The years with my brother stagnated me, kept me locked in place worse than anything I could have done with my twenties.  I was forced to devote every ounce of time an energy to him and had no room for socializing (even if I were able) or self reflection.  It was only when I cut ties with him that I began to, once more, explore myself, but before that, before moving out even, I met someone who changed my life.

In the twilight of my youth, just before the move, I met a woman named colleen in an online chatroom. She was fierce, and strong, and very openly bisexual.  She saw through the many layers of psychosis and trauma that made up my brittle damaged mind and didn't turn away, didn't find me wanting. It wasn't attraction I had for her, it was fellowship I sought from her.  I told her everything, all the details of what I've transcribed here, all the little secrets I'd kept from my family and friends, and she didn't think me gross or damaged, but encouraged me to explore myself.  The years with my brother were bitter for our friendship, as she lived a few hundred miles away, and we were both too scared to meet, but also due to the isolation forced upon me by him.  When I finally got away from him, when I finally cut ties, she was there to support me emotionally like few others could.  

I had few friends after that, Mr. Richards ( a mutual friend of my brother who stopped talking to him in favor of me) was one of them, Rebecca (who remained my friend even after our tumultuous relationship) was another.  Colleen was the unspoken third, the bearer of all my secrets, the one person I could confide anything and everything with.  

She was the first person I came out to, spoke with in depth about my sexuality and my gender and all the glorious weirdness that is me.  Years later I would in turn tell my other friends, and eventually (and weirdly last) my therapist, who should have known all along.  

Finding terms for the parts of me that didn't make sense was a big deal for me, I wanted an explanation, a clean cut reason for the malfunctions I found within myself.  Gender, it turns out, isn't that simple.  I wasn't trans, as I first though, because there WAS in fact a part of me that very keenly wanted to remain male, and I wasn't entirely cis, because there were times when “Binks” the name I gave the effeminate voiced female portion of my mind and gender would speak up and make herself known.  The closest explanation I've found is the term Genderfluid, wherein my gender identity is in a constant state of flux from male to female and back again.  Understanding my sexuality came first, however.  I was deeply afraid of men, it would seem, and apart from musings online and in chat, I was terrified of being... well, different, being gay.  I had associated homosexuality with those terrible early moments of my sexuality with my abuser, even at times thought that he had “turned” me gay somehow.  

I still struggle with who it is I am, and how I want to be with, but its getting clearer ever day, and with that clarity I have hope.  I haven't had much luck with relationships, but I have a DEEP desire to be loved, and to love others.  “Others” in this case being virtually any consenting adult.  My attractions range all across the board, so much that I've found that the closet term to describing me is “Pansexual” or: not using gender or gender identity to chose a partner.  The affect of this is that I'm attracted to basically everyone to varying degrees, though its more of a weird hierarchy of attractions, with cis and trans women at the top, and trans and cis men at the bottom. I don't know if that is “right” for being pan, but its the way it is for me, so maybe being right in this case doesn't matter as long as I'm true to myself.  

One day, it'll all make sense, and maybe even I'll be brave enough to share my secrets with the family I know and sometimes even love.