#given that my first language has no gendered pronouns and so few gendered terms that it borders on comical when adopting eng or lit trans | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

meat--grindr · 4 years ago

Note

Ohh your writing is wonderful... I’ve actually never requested before so I hope get this right but: could I request Billy Lenz x Gender Neutral Reader (AFAB if it’s brought up) with Billy sucking on his partner’s fingers and discovering they are really, /really/ into it but also super embarrassed about it? Bastard-ness ensues. Hope this request is ok!

Okay? This is waaay more than okay! I’ve been so excited about this prompt since I received it! I’m so sorry for not getting to it earlier. I hope like six months later is better than never though! I’m also super excited to be your first request! I hope this lives up to your expectations, whatever they may have been!

Just a few general warnings beforehand: Billy is really rough with the reader he uses some extremely degrading language as per the canon (I’ve excluded the term ‘piggy,’ though, because I am NOT A FAN™ of that aspect of his dirty talk.) I want to specifically call to attention the liberal use of the terms ‘pussy’ and ‘cunt.’ The reader is never gendered with personal pronouns, but those words are used in reference to them and their anatomy several times. I am of the opinion that Mr. Lenz would use those terms regardless of what hole he’s using, but if they make you uncomfortable, maybe give this one a miss? Furthermore, I would like to mention that Billy is not a mentally well man (obviously) who has had a rather traumatic past with abuse, both of these are discussed within this fic, so please take care of yourselves and read this work responsibly if you want to read it at all. I don’t want anyone to be hurt by my writing because I didn’t warn them properly.

Also, this is my first time writing for Billy, so please forgive me if it takes a little while for me to get completely used to him. He’s a…unique fella, let’s say.

Editing Ripper’s Note: I was just about to post this when I realized I completely misread the prompt! I read it as the reader is really into sucking on Billy’s fingers, not the other way ‘round! I’ve been looking at this prompt, literally since December and still never caught on. I feel like a total idiot. I’m really sorry about that. I’ve decided to post this anyway because A) the kink is still there in the fic, just not exactly as requested, and B) I had already finished it by the time I noticed my mistake. So much time has passed and if the original requester is still keeping tabs on this blog, I don’t want to make them wait any longer. That being said, if you’d like me to write your request properly, please send me a message and I will do my best!

Mind Your Teeth – Billy Lenz (Gender Neutral* Reader) - NSFW

· Slick with sweat, your chest slides against the surface of your desk with each cruel snap of Billy’s hips. You can feel the laboured heaving of his chest against your back as he struggles for breath. It leaves his lips in ragged, staggering puffs, heavy and hot against your shoulder blade, accompanied every so often by the slick warmth of his saliva as it drips down onto your bare skin.

· Despite his gawky build, he manages to loom over you, folding you nearly in half against the desk. He’s made himself rather comfortable, sprawled over top of you. His chest presses against your back, boney ribs grinding against the knobs of your spine through the stiff, itchy fibers of his jumper. It’s sticking to your skin, soaked through in spots with sweat—yours and his—and you can feel it peeling up from your flesh with every movement he makes.

· He’s got you pinned, holding you down against the smooth wooden surface with little more than his weight. He’s surprisingly heavy, and though he doesn’t look it, Billy is a strong man—he’s more than capable both of lifting you off of the floor and pinning you down to it. He’s strong and his hands are by no means an exception to that rule. Though they may be long and thin, and they tremble whenever they hold you, his grip is nearly unbreakable. His clumsy fingers circle your wrists like iron fetters, dirty fingernails digging into the flesh of your forearms and cutting little crescents into the skin—just deep enough to sting. You can barely move beneath him—can barely breathe—and he knows this. He has you exactly where he wants you and you’re not going anywhere until he decides to let you.

· Another bruising thrust pitches you forward, and your knees bang against the desk drawers. You cry out, though whether it was for the dull ache in your legs or the sudden stab of pleasure between them, even you couldn’t say for certain. Though if there is any concern at all in Billy for your wellbeing, he’s certainly keeping it to himself. Your outburst only seems to egg him on, as his pace begins to take on a more frantic edge.

· His thrusts are shallow as he rocks into you—it’s as though he can’t bare to withdraw from the tight heat of your body for long. Dimly, through the fog of pleasure, you struggle to feel surprised. It’s all about instant gratification with Billy. Always has been—why should he tease himself or draw things out when he could just pry open your willing mouth and drag his cock against your tongue until he cums down your throat? Still, there is a force behind those thrusts—one which throws you up against the lip of the desk hard enough that you’re sure there will be a solid line of bruising along your midsection before the night is through. Every push of those hips shoves you forward a little more, until your head is nearly knocking against the wall and your toes barely touch the ground.

· Your cheek slides against a slick patch of wood and you realize you’ve been drooling across the desktop. The little puddle at the corner of your lips only grows in size as a particularly deep thrust from Billy wrings another string of wrecked whimpers from your throat. You wish you could pull away from the puddle—longing to drag the back of your hand across your cheek and wipe away the slickness, but there’s little you can do about it with Billy still holding your arms hostage. But at the same time, something about it thrills you—to be ruined like this—held still, unable to so anything but whimper, and drool, and take what you’re given. It’s…liberating.

· “C’mon, little bitch! Take my fat cock! You can t-t-take it better than that! Take it! Take-Take-Take it good for B-B-Billy!” He babbles into your shoulder, chapped lips scraping against your shoulder as he mouths at your flushed skin. His tongue flickers out, dragging a wet stripe against your skin, scorching hot, then suddenly too cool as it begins to dry in the open air.

· “Such a pretty pusssssy,” He slurs, “Pretty, pretty pusssssy. Gonna fill it up—gonna fill it with my fat ffffffucking cock!”

· You feel him jerk behind you, his muscles going taught as a violent spasm rolls through his body. When he speaks again, the voice that comes is not his own—it’s deeper, rumbling down in his chest, belonging to a man much larger than he, “Why I outta beat that boy! Beat him up good! Beat Billy bad! Beat him good! Beat him up, up, up!”

· His hips still and your heart leaps up into your throat, your pulse pounding hard in the tight space. This can’t be good. You squirm beneath him, trying and failing to turn your head. Your eyes roll wild in their sockets, desperate to get a good look at Billy, but he remains a shadow at the edge of your vision. You remember this voice. He had so many it was difficult to keep track of them sometimes—he’d mimic almost anything he heard; the children from down the road calling to one another while they played, the weatherman making predictions on the radio, even the neighbour’s cat. It was easy to forget which voices and phrases came from where once he’d picked them up and used them enough. But this is one that predates you, and you recognize it with a chilling clarity—the father’s voice: always angry, often violent.

· It frightens you when Billy uses it, though not because of the threat Billy poses to you. Of course, you know to tread carefully when he's in one of his moods—you’ve seen first hand the destruction wrought when his directionless frustration is given direction. But, you know this voice is a far more likely indicator that Billy is an imminent threat to himself. You’ve seen him pacing the floor like a caged animal, trembling hands beating about his head, tearing at his clothes and hair as he works through the frenzy, all the while babbling to himself in that deep, rumbling voice: “Rotten boy! Teach you a fucking lesson! Beat Billy! Bad Billy! Bad, Bad, Bad!” He's blackened his eyes, split his lips and knuckles, shattered countless plates and cut his hands on the shards. He loses himself in that voice, and that scares you.

· ‘Losing himself,’ that’s what you’ve come to call these episodes—those moments when his excitement and boundless energy curdle, souring into anxiety and agitation so quickly it makes you head spin. And in this moment, he’s displaying all the tell-tale sighs you’ve come to recognize—the full-body tremors, the angry voices, self-directed violence—mere threats or otherwise…

· No, this is not good. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him do this, and you’re sure it would not be the last, but he’s never done it while you were…playing before. And that worries you. You’re both vulnerable, half-undressed and bent over a desk. Even worse, he was behind you. You’d learned very quickly never to let him out of your sight when he got like this. He was unpredictable—prone to lashing out whether he meant to or not. But he wasn’t beyond helping. If you could just turn your head and look at him—make him see you, help him to ground himself like you practiced, you might be able to talk him down, or at least ease him through the worst of it. Maybe. If you could only get a look at him.

· You flounder for your voice and struggle to keep it steady once you find it, “Hey, B-Billy? Billy, baby, you’re okay, right?” It’s an innocent question you usually begin with when he gets like this. Sometimes he’s too worked up to even begin to answer you, sometimes he tries so damn hard to answer, but can’t—not in a way you could really understand anyhow—and sometimes you can talk it through with him. Every time you try, the reaction is different. You can only cross your fingers and pray for a positive outcome.

· This time, he coughs. It’s a horrible, a horrible, racking sound that echoes in his chest—it’s almost closer to a scream than anything else. Another spasm jitters through him, the joint in his neck snapping loud in the darkness. You feel his forehead collide with your shoulder once, twice, then he stills. His flesh is clammy against yours, and the gentle brush of his hair makes your skin prickle, but he seems calmer. He barks a laugh—his own this time—and nuzzles against your back, smearing your skin with sweat and saliva. “Fuck!” He says, as though that explains everything.

· “Billy? Are you…alright?”

· He chirps like bird, three short bursts of whistling he’d picked up last spring when a robin mad made a nest on your windowsill, “Right as rain, rain, rain!”

· You’re left with a heady rush of confusion and relief as you realize he must have pulled himself out of the hole he’d almost fallen into. A little flicker of pride sparks to life in your chest. He’s come so far.

· Your concern melts away once again into pleasure as Billy jerks his hips. Keening high in the back of his throat, he fucks himself deeper into you. He drags his cock out slow, sounding for all the world as though he’d forgotten just how good it felt to fuck you—as though he hadn’t been doing just that not sixty seconds ago. He scrapes his teeth against your shoulder, the promise of a bite that will surely come and mark you for days. His fingers flex around your wrists, blunt nails biting deeper into your flesh as he falls back into that brutal rhythm.

· Your legs begin to shake as Billy’s cock bumps up against something a bit more sensitive inside of you. Your breath fogs against the surface of the desk as it heaves from your lungs, a thin mist that barely has the time to fade before the next heavy puff of air replaces it. You find yourself struggling to swallow the moans Billy’s working so hard to pull from you. You know how much he likes to hear you—how wild it makes him—and you know there’s no real need to be quiet, not with the dorm cleared out for the long weekend. Still, something—be it a force of habit from living in close quarters with thin walls, or simply your own embarrassment—keeps you quiet.

· “Fiiiilthy whore!” A growl, caught low in his throat, tears through the air between you, “Pretty pussy! Want it full! My cock, my cum…gonna fill it full!” Never at a loss for a string of vulgarities, Billy mumbles against your skin, his words slurring into one another until you can barely decipher one though from the other.

· “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!” Billy jerks his hips forward, and for the first time this evening, you feel the full length of his cock stretching you out. You jerk beneath him, mewling into the desktop, squirming about as you try desperately to relax around him. You’re so full—so full you can barely breathe, but it feels so good. Your muscles contract around him, unbidden, throbbing with the sudden stretch. It makes him shudder and sigh above you, a wavering rush of air than hisses out between his teeth.

· He holds you there for a moment, trembling almost as much as you are, “Tight fffucking cunt, so fucking tiiight for Billy!” His hips stutter forward in time with his ragged breathing. Desperately, he tries to fuck himself deeper into you, even though he can’t—he’s already buried to the hilt, his hips tucked snugly against your ass. But he gives it the old college try anyhow. He begins to babble nonsensically against your neck, “Ruin it, ruin it! Never take another cock! Full, full, full! I left it in the kitchen, Jan! Not after Billy’s! A low pressure system moving in and—fuck you full, fuck you full, full, full!”

· The tops of his thighs quiver as he grinds into you, and as he shifts, the head of his cock presses against something. For a moment, your vision goes white. Your legs seem to fall away beneath you, your knees drifting south as the pleasure carries away their ability to hold you upright any longer. If it weren’t for the desk, you probably would have slid down into a boneless heap on the floor.

· You gasp, mouth gaping wide, pulling in a great, deep lungful of air. To call his name? To beg him for more? To put wordless voice to your pleasure? You aren’t sure. There is little room in your brain for thought beyond the need for more. Mercifully, Billy saves you from the struggle before you can waste too much energy on it.

· Almost as soon as he realizes your mouth is open, Billy shoves his fingers into your mouth. Two boney digits slide against your tongue, pressing and prodding against the slick muscle. The taste of dust and salt floods your mouth with the intrusion. You wrinkle your nose, and try to pull your head back, but Billy leans down into you, pressing you down further beneath his weight, grinding your ribs into the desktop.

· “No, no, no,” He chides, voice soft and light—almost cheerful. He spreads his fingers apart, rubbing over the hard bumps of your bottom teeth with a tenderness you rarely see in him. “Gotta make room,” His voice rumbles through you as he presses his lips against your flesh, “Gotta stretch it out for Billy, or he won’t fit!”

· He nuzzles his cheek against your shoulder, still rocking his hips into you, pressing against that spot that makes your brain fill with television static, “Billy’s gonna fuck your throat once he’s filled that pretty pussy!”

· Your lips are pulled taught as his fingers press against the walls of your mouth, testing its limits. “Soft and warm! Wanna fuck it! Fuck it deep!”

· His hips buck hard, shoving you another inch toward the wall. You can feel yourself drooling around his fingers—your saliva dripping down your chin in great rivulets and collecting beneath your cheek.

· His knuckles bump against the roof of your mouth as the pads of his fingers find the back of your tongue. You gag around them, struggling to breathe, but Billy just laughs and presses down harder.

· “Again,” His voice comes out in a ragged puff of breath, half-whisper, half-growl, rough as rock salt, “Pussy gets tight when it chokes.”

· You try to suck in a shocked breath, but you can’t manage it around his fingers. Your throat convulses around him as you struggle to breathe.

· You feel his cock pulse inside of you and he groans his pleasure long and low into the darkness, “Yesssss!”

· He rocks into you again, “No one fucks like Billy, huh?” He pulls back, his cock nearly slipping from your body entirely, then he slams his hips home again, “No one fucks you full like Billy can! No one! No one! No one!” The phrase becomes a litany, each sentence punctuated with a bruising snap of his hips. “Know why?” He drags his teeth along the edge of your shoulder blade, “Know why?” You can hear the grin in his voice, wide and sharp, “‘Cuz Billy fills you up from both ends!”

· You sob around Billy’s fingers, your eyes rolling back as he pushes them deeper into your mouth. If he keeps on like this, it won’t be long before you fall apart around him—you want to cum so desperately, you can hardly keep another thought in your brain. Your muscles clench up around him and he laughs, giggling to himself as he hooks his chin over your shoulder. He can feel how close you are.

· His tongue slides against the side of your face, leaving a thick, wet stripe across your cheekbone. His lips scratch rough against your jaw, “Pretty pussy’s gonna cum? Gonna cum all over Billy’s fat fucking cock? Yeah?” His simpering tone makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but you nod. Another peal of sick laughter bubbles up in his throat, “You’re gonna cum and Billy’s not even trying! So dirty, dirty, dirty!”

· You whine around his fingers as he babbles on, “Billy could fuck you harder, but he doesn’t need to! Stupid, greedy pussy, silly fucking cunt can cum like this!” His teeth sink into your shoulder and the rest of his diatribe is lost to you. Even so, he continues to mumble filth against the skin caught between his teeth.

· The bite stings, bright and sharp, and you sob around him, clenching your jaw, your teeth digging into his fingers. Billy releases you with a hiss, dipping his head into the crook of your neck. You think for a moment you might have hurt him, but in mere seconds, he’s giggling to himself again. “Sharp, sharp teeth! No good. No, no good. Not for Billy’s cock. Gotta tear them out, make room for Billy!”

· Though you know the threat is mostly empty, the way Billy caresses your molars with the pad of his finger makes you a little nervous. You’re sure if he could get a good grip, he could easily ‘make room,’ and there was probably not much you could do to stop him. But he pulls his fingers back, retreating from the crushing press of your back teeth.

· He presses down against your tongue again, rubbing against the slick muscle fondly. “Need to practice! Greedy cunt needs to learn! Learn to suck Billy’s fat cock properly.” He snaps his hips, as though trying to remind you just how fat it really was—as though there was any change you could forget while it was rearranging your guts for you. “Gonna teach you to take it good!”

· Your eyes roll back at the thought. You can picture yourself kneeling under the desk, Billy draped over the chair, wild hair falling over his eyes as you try to take him all the way down to the base. He’d fuck your throat until your vision goes black, his fingers tangled deep in your hair, nails digging into your scalp. Your own fingers slide desperately between your thighs, chasing your release as he chases his own and god what you wouldn’t give to make the fantasy real—to feel the length of him in your mouth, the rough denim of his pants beneath your hands, the jerk and sting against your scalp as he tugs on your hair. Your cheeks hollow around Billy’s fingers, a pretty whine sitting high in the back of your throat.

· And Billy stops—stops moving, stops talking. He hovers above you, silent and still as a statue, barely breathing. A terrible moment of clarity washes over you and the embarrassment comes rolling in. There you were, still stretched out on Billy’s cock, barely moments away from an orgasm and you were already thinking about another? Were you really that desperate? Your cheeks burn hot against the cool wood of the desktop. Shame licks at the pit of your stomach—it wasn’t unlink Billy to think this way, he was always seeking the next shot of pleasure, but it wasn’t like you. As though it wasn’t bad enough to catch yourself thinking that way…for someone else to do it? It was mortifying…and maybe a little exciting too.

· Your stomach flips as Billy shifts behind you, the burgeoning stubble on his jaw scraping across your sensitive skin. Then you feel it, a smile spreading across his face—it’s a grin you’ve come to know well, all teeth and wide enough to make his jaw pop. Even without looking at him, you know you’re fucked.

· All at once, he lurches to life again, fucking his fingers hard into your mouth, in tandem with the harsh thrusts of his hips. A filthy string of gibberish falls from his lips as he pounds into you, “Greedy! Greedy cunt! Want it in your mouth too? Filthy, greedy fucking whore!”

· You whine, and choke, and sob around Billy’s fingers. Your face is wet with sweat, with spit, with tears, you can’t tell and at this point, you’re far beyond the point of caring. The world has narrowed to a single point between your legs as you teeter on the knife’s edge of your release. You rock your hips back against Billy, meeting his thrusts, desperate for more. You’re so, so close, and Billy can feel it too—the way you tighten around him spurring his pace from wild to frantic.

· His voice is broken, his words panted out between jagged breaths and garbled moans, “Gonna be good for Billy? Gonna cum?” His face is buried in the crook of your neck. He giggles against your flesh as he splits you open, slamming into you like it’s the last fuck he’ll ever have. “C’mon, take what Billy gives you! Take it, take it, t—ta—fuuuck!”

· Your hips stutter as your orgasm throbs through you. You scream around his fingers as you cum, your muscles clamping down around Billy so hard he almost has to stop moving, rolling his hips forward quick and shallow. His howl is lost in the sound of blood rushing in your ears, but you can feel it vibrating through his chest, and down into your back. Your fingers scrabble at the wood beneath you, desperate for something to latch onto—to keep you grounded here as the pleasure threatens to carry you away.

· You sob and slump limp against the desk, letting it bear the brunt of your weight. There’s just no strength left in your body anymore. Your hands and feet tingle with the lingering aftershocks of the adrenaline as you begin to come down from your high, and your breath comes hard, as though you’ve run a great distance. Billy’s hips continue to snap against yours, brutal and quick. You sob into his fingers, the as the relentless pleasure sparks through you, nearly painful to your sparking nerves.

· Slowly, as your ears stop ringing, you realize Billy is still talking, babbling away in several voices. “Like your pussy tight like this. Wanna fuck you full while you cum again and again and again and I told you, Jan, I left it in the kitchen! Make you soaked, keep you soaking wet, make you fucking cry! Where is that cat? Where’s that cat? Where’s the…WHERE’S THE BABY, BILLY?! AGNES? WHERE’S AGNES, BILLY?! Beat that kid! Teach him a lesson! BEAT HIM UP GOOD!”

· His left hand shoots up from your arm and wraps around your throat, fingers flexing around your windpipe, not quite squeezing, yet, but the pressure is far from comfortable.

· “T-T-Teach rotten old Billy a lesson.” A spike of fear shoots through you and you choke around his fingers. This seems to bring his mind back, at least in part, to the present, or at least confuse him enough to serve as a distraction—he makes a noise caught between two voices. The fear that courses through you lends new strength to your limbs as you reach up and claw at his fingers.

· As you attempt to pry him lose, his grip only tightens, fingers locking around your windpipe, “Teach that boy a FUCKING lesson!” The knobby joints of his fingers press hard against the pulse in your throat and you’re sure he can feel it hammering beneath your skin. He’s losing himself again, you’re sure.

· But again, this time was different. He hadn’t stopped fucking his cock into you like he had before, and he’d wavered for a moment, when you’d choked on him. There might be something else you could do to help him. Desperate to keep him here with you in the present moment, you flex your tongue against his fingers. His hips stutter and your heart skips a beat in turn. “Filthy fucking c-c-cunt…”

· You bob your head, hollowing your cheeks around his fingers again. C’mon, Billy!

· “F-Fuck!” It’s not quite his voice, but it’s close, perhaps a little higher, a little more strained than usual, but it’s close. “Where’s the baby, Billy? Where’s the…c-c-cat gone to now?” His fingers begin to relax around your throat, but you keep sucking on his fingers, wanting to make sure you’re well and truly out of the woods before you even think about stopping. If this is going to work, you’re going to make damn sure of it.

· “Fucking greedy little cunt!” You could have cried with relief at the sound of his voice—his real voice. You hum around his fingers, and he laughs, the sound low and rumbly, “Still so fucking eager.” His hips buck forward, pressing deep inside of you. It’s still too much, too soon, and you sob with the overstimulation. The sudden spike of pleasure punches the air from your lungs and shakes your legs from underneath you.

· Billy groans as you pulse around him. “You want Billy to cum? Wand Billy to fucking fill you?” You nod frantically, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he grinds into that spot, filling your vision with white hot splotches of light.

· “Suck his cock, then,” he says, shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth again. He spreads them wide, nearly matching the girth of his cock where it fucks you open. Billy jitters behind you, chasing his release with quick, cruel thrusts. Impatient as always, he pushes digs his nail into the wall of your cheek, “Fucking suck Billy’s cock!”

· You jerk into motion as though startled from a deep sleep, pressing your head down against his fingers to take them as deep as you could. Your tongue laves against the digits, prodding gently against his scarred knuckles, playing in the space between them.

· Billy throws his head back, moaning to the ceiling long and loud, “Yessss! Good little pet! Pretty, pretty pet! His fingers stroke your throat as though he’s petting a cat, feeling it work up and down as you swallow around him. “Gooood pet! Suck Billy’s cock! Suck his cock! Su—NO!”

· Suddenly, he stops, his fingers stilling. For a moment, you think you’ve done something wrong. Had your teeth caught against him? Had you hurt him? Should you pull back and ask, or carry on? Before you can make a decision one way or another, Billy thrusts his fingers back into your throat, pressing them in as deep as he could. His knuckles bump against your back molars as you gag around him, trying desperately to breathe through your nose.

· “Lick Billy’s cunt,” For a moment, you’re still, confusion slicing through the pleasure. Billy tries to press his hand forward, his fingertips brushing against the back of your throat, “Lick it! Lick Billy’s cunt! Lick it! Lick it! Tongue his fffffucking clit!” You think about it for a moment, your exhausted, lust-fogged brain struggling to put two and two together, and then suddenly you think you understand. As gingerly as you can, while Billy continues to rock you forward over the desk, you press your tongue against the soft spot between his knuckles.

· This must have been what he’d wanted because the sound he makes is like nothing you’ve ever heard before—a wail caught somewhere between human and animal. You’ve never heard a human sound like that before. Like so many things about Billy, it’s frightening, and yet it fascinates you, attracts you, arouses you. You press your tongue harder against that spot, and the frantic rocking of his hips picks up again—but this time there’s no rhythm to it. He’s close.

· “Fucking lick Billy’s clit, make him cum! Make him cum in your pretty pussy!” You lap at his flesh with quick, deliberate swipes of your tongue. He howls against your flesh, his forehead thudding against your shoulder heavy and hard. “Fuck, f-f-f-fuck, make Billy fucking cum! Billy’s gonna, he’s-he’s-he’s gonna—!”

· In the moment before he cums everything is calm. He stills, and his voice is soft and steady in your ear; “I’m going to ruin you.”

· Then the world falls back into chaos.

· His whole body shudders above you, a bag of jangling bones he couldn’t keep control of if his life had depended on it. His teeth fix themselves deep into your shoulder, slotting into the indentations they’d left not long before. You cry out around his fingers, sure he’s drawn blood this time. You can see it when you close your eyes, visions of thick red blood splattered against his dark incisors floating against the dark inside of your eyelids.

· He shudders, momentarily stilling, then kicking back into motion, seemingly unable to deicide if he’d rather pound you through his orgasm or remain still, buried to the hilt in your tight heat. You feel the heat of him inside of you pulsing against your walls as he cums. His cheek is pressed tight against your shoulder gibbering a collection nonsensical sounds and snatches of obscenities into your flesh, “Pretty pink cunt! ah, ahhhh, fuuh—fuuuh—fuck! Dripping now! Where did you leave it? Left it fucking dripping!"

· You’re sore beyond belief from the pounding you’ve taken, but there’s still a throbbing want underneath. He’d dragged you most of the way to a second orgasm, now all you needed was a little push. Before you were completely at is mercy, able only to receive the pleasure he decided to give you. But now, your hands were free and with them you could do as you pleased. You wriggle beneath him, slipping your hands down between your thighs.

· Your fingers find their prize, and you sob, your whole body jerking forward. Even though you’d cum mere moments ago, you can’t believe how sensitive you are. You’re on the verge of orgasm almost immediately. You press harder the slide of your fingers aided both Billy’s cum and your own. You shudder, whimpering around his fingers. Your muscles clamp down on him once again, throbbing and pulsing as your orgasm builds.

· He hooks his finger inside of your cheek and pulls, “Wanna cum again. Wanna cum in your mouth,” He pulls harder exposing the sides of your teeth, “Billy wants to feel them! Feel them on his cock! Sharp and hard.” He laughs, “But Billy likes it hard.” The harsh snap of his hips that follows has you seeing spots. He opens his mouth as though to gloat, as you clench around him, he loses his words. Whimpering, soft and broken sounds against your neck, he grinds into you.

· Seconds later, you clamp down around him, a second orgasm shooting through you. The sound he makes as you cum on his oversensitive cock is nothing short of feral. He bucks wildly into you, seeking more of a pleasure that sounds almost painful as he sobs into your shoulder. His cock pulses inside of you again, throbbing as he fucks his cum deeper inside of you, as though intent on giving you more.

· And you’re sure he would. Or he would have, if you hadn’t reached back and pushed against his shoulder. He was insatiable—he’d keep going for hours unless you stop him now.

· He pulls his fingers out first, a pearly string of saliva connecting your lips to his fingertips. You cough, scratchy and wet, but when you speak, there’s no pain. “I…I just need a little break, Bills. Okay?” Your chest is heaving as you struggle for air. Billy hums above you, hesitating for a moment. He’s reluctant to give up the tight heat of your body. But at last, after nearly a full minute of grumbling and mumbling to himself, he pulls out.

· There's a sticky gush of fluids against your thigh as his cum beings to leak out of you. You rest there for a moment, the pair of you breathing hard in the darkness, the comfortable weight of his body pressing down above you, the solid plane of the desktop below. Then all of a sudden, you’re being lifted up. You squeal in shock as your flipped about and placed atop the desk. The surface is still cool against your heated flesh. The difference in temperature is a shock to your system and goosebumps break out across your arms and legs.

· Before you have a moment to process what’s happening, Billy’s head is between your thighs, his tongue lapping at mess he’d made. Your eyes go wide, and you head knocks against a wall as it falls back, “Fuuuuck, Billy!” Your hips cant up against his face, thighs squeezing tight around his ears.

· “Pretty pussy came twice already,” You can feel him smirking against your inner thigh. “Still wants more? Greedy, greedy, greedy.” You catch a glimpse of his eyes, wide and wild, shining in the darkness beneath is tangled hair, “It’s okay, Billy likes you greedy.”

#billy lenz x reader #billy lenz x you #slasher x reader #slasher imagines #ripper fics #hey everyone!#i really hope i caught all the errors #if not you didn't see them-i'll get them soon enough #please enjoy and my apologies again for getting the prompt wrong

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writingwithcolor · 4 years ago

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B’nei mitzvah in spaceship without Jewish community | Jewish character celebrating Christmas

Hi! Thank you so much for running this blog. I appreciate how much time and effort all the mods have put into it. I finished reading through the whole Jewish tag a few days ago, and I’ve learned so much! I’m writing a Voltron fic (I *know* lol) and decided to make one of the protagonists a white nonbinary Ashkenazi Reform Jewish girl. Her astronaut brother mysteriously disappears in space and is presumed dead, so she runs away from home a couple of months before her b'nei mitzvah to find him. Now, she’s in a group of rebels in space fighting against an Empire. I have two concerns:

1. Everyone on the ship misses home, so part of the way they cope is through getting in touch with their cultures. They’re gonna celebrate (a mostly non-Americanized) Christmas because it matters a lot to some of the characters for non-religious reasons. To what extent can my Jewish character participate in the celebration without it being weird? I want her to enjoy herself more because she’s with her friends than because Jesus etc. They’ll also celebrate Chanukah, if that helps. I know Chanukah isn’t a major holiday, so I also want to have her celebrate a more significant one like Rosh Hashanah and/or Purim with them. Is it okay for gentiles to participate in those holiday celebrations, or should she do that alone?

2. Throughout most of the story, she’ll struggle with choosing whether to prioritize fighting the Empire or finding her brother and bringing him home. When she eventually does find her brother (who also turns out to be a rebel), he lets her decide whether they stay or go home. I thought it would be nice if she decided to stay and keep fighting for the greater good after she finally has her b'nei mitzvah. Her friends and other experiences are also a big part of why she decides to stay, but the b'nei mitzvah would be what gives her the final push she needs to decide. I don’t know if it would be okay for me to write the ceremony itself or if she can even have one if only two of the eight people on the ship are Jewish. I read that not everyone has a b'nei mitzvah and that it’s not required, but I feel like it’d be a big deal to her character. Should I keep the b'nei mitzvah idea, or am I heading towards appropriative territory here?

I want to make her Jewishness a big part of her character’s growth, and I really want to make sure I do it respectfully and accurately. I plan on finding a sensitivity reader when I’ve made more progress with actually writing everything out. Thank you for any insight you might offer!

It feels off to me to join a community symbolically when you’re far away FROM the community. Why not just have had her already have done the ceremony before she has all these adventures? That way it could just be a straightforward story about a Jewish teen having exciting heroic adventures in space, rather than a story about what happens when you have to miss aspects of Jewish life because you’re in space. It would also make the “….well, I guess I’m around for Christmas” bit less weighted because then that would be the only one of those instead of having two of those.

–Shira

I’ll cover some other territory here. For those who don’t know, b'nei mitzvah is something you just automatically become at the correct age, the ceremony is simply to celebrate that with the community. Not all people have the ceremony, but if you are Jewish, and of age (for religious purposes), your status changes with or without it. Personally, I’m comfortable with showing a Jewish character finding a way to have a Jewish celebration when the circumstances are less than ideal, for me the other aspects of the story are more troubling.

On the subject of having a Jewish character celebrate Christmas with their friends… look I don’t like this trope. There are many Jewish people, who are completely secular, who don’t celebrate Christmas, because it is explicitly a Christian holiday, and secular Jewish people are still Jewish. Some Jewish people (secular or otherwise) do choose to celebrate other holidays, and I am very comfortable with those folks telling their own stories. What I’m not happy with is the push from outside of the community for every Jewish character to slide into assimilation.

Some Jewish people will go to Christmas parties and not eat the food, because they keep kosher, or won’t stay for a tree-lighting, because that feels like it goes too far, or will give presents but not receive them. There are a huge number of ways we might handle Christmas, and I appreciate that you plan to show holidays other than just Chanukah (and yes, it’s fine for non-Jewish characters to join her in her holidays, if she invites them), but I always question why a non-Jewish writer is so keen to show Jewish characters celebrating Christmas. The most generous version of me wants to assume that you get so much out of Christmas that you want to share it, but the part of me that knows about the pressures to assimilate, and the history of increased antisemitic violence around Christmas thinks… just leave this kid alone. She missed her celebration, she’s far from her community, and now she has to go put on a Happy Assimilated Smile for the culturally Christian folks around her. From a nonbinary Jewish perspective, it’s a little unusual for your nonbinary character to use she/her pronouns, and use b'nei mitzvah as a gender neutral alternative to the gendered bat mitzvah. In secular life, at least in the US, it’s not uncommon for people to use multiple pronouns, but I haven’t met, or even heard of, a single person using gendered pronouns secularly, and using new neutral alternatives religiously. It absolutely could happen but, because it is so unusual, to me it reads as either invalidating the character’s gender, or tokenizing her in the religious sphere.

–Dierdra

Shira, I think that’s a really good idea to make the character post-b'nei mitzvah. That way you just have a Jewish character having adventures rather than her culture being The Conflict. (And also, a pre-b'nei mitzvah seems a bit young for this storyline? Can she really consent to fighting alongside the rebels? Do they habitually take unaccompanied children on their ship? To me a teenager would make more sense, but hey it’s not my story!)

Dierdra, your answer regarding the Christmas aspect was awesome and really thorough. Thanks for your thoughts on the pronouns as well, it also jarred with me but I was waiting to hear your opinion as you have lived experience. My worry is if you use gender neutral terms for one but not the other, you risk falling into to the stereotype that only marginalised religious folks have to change our language etc to be inclusive to LGBTQ+ people, but everyone else is fine.

I wanted to come back to the point about Rosh Hashana. First of all, thank you for acknowledging that we have holidays that are more important than Chanukah! Sooo many OP’s don’t know that. In terms of how she would celebrate it, I agree it’s fine to invite non-Jewish people along. However, given how community-based Jewish life is, making her keep Yom Tov on her own feels a bit like a torture story, especially when others have people to celebrate Christmas with. I wonder if you’ve thought about giving her a Jewish friend on the ship? Especially if you want her Jewishness to be part of her growth as you mentioned, an older Jewish friend and mentor could be a huge help :)

–Shoshi

As you can see, we have a wide range of possibilities for ��what happens when you ask a Jewish person about celebrating Christmas.” I didn’t mind hanging around it as an outsider myself until a certain subset of Christians started being mean-spirited about it in the news plus some personal trauma that time of year, as long as everyone involved was clear that I was just participating from the outside and this didn’t somehow change me. (If I may make an analogy: compare it to going to a baby shower when you want to support your friend or family member but also really don’t want kids of your own. You’re going to have a whole different experience if your decision is respected vs. if all the other guests treat you like you being there means you’ll change your mind about not wanting kids.)

That being said, it’s still all over the map. Some people IRL are okay even going to mass with their partner’s Catholic family (without participating in communion obvs.) Some would never, ever do that and are sitting here with shocked faces that I even typed that. But what becomes important is the way it’s written. Sitting around listening to the Christmas story is probably a bad fit for your fanfic, but helping other people bake Christmas cookies or put ornaments on a tree could work. The ornament thing could remind her of decorating a sukkah, and she could point that out to the others.

I guess I’m saying is

keep her participation secular, and

keep her participation from leaning into the idea that we’re unhappy with our customs and would prefer to do it their way.

I have literally never in my life felt jealous of the kids who “got to do Santa” (for example) and while I’m sure some kids were and they’re valid too, I think it’s important to show that it’s not a universal phenomenon.

–Shira

#jewish #non binary #B’nei mitzvah #holidays #Christmas #Jewish Holidays #submission

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transgenderteensurvivalguide · 4 years ago

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Hi, I'm a parent of a 14yr old who says he is a transmale. After reading the vocabulary list, is there a difference between transmasculine and transgender male? He has not transition yet but I'm trying to learn/do what I can to support his journey. Thank you and please accept my apology if I didn't use the correct descriptive words.

Lee says:

The difference is like the squares and rectangles thing!

All squares are rectangles, so all trans men fall under the transmasculine umbrella, but not all rectangles are squares, so not all transmasculine people identify as men.

Transmasculine is a term used to describe trans people who were assigned female at birth and identify with masculinity to a greater extent than with femininity in some way.

Being transmasculine doesn’t mean that you actually identify as a man, it just means you’re A) masculine-leaning, B) transgender, and C) assigned female at birth.

Personally speaking, I identify as transmasculine because my gender expression and medical transition is bringing me in a direction society sees as masculine.

I also am medically transitioning to a body that people see as more masculine- I’m on testosterone, I’ve gotten top surgery, I’ve had a hysterectomy, and I’m scheduled for phalloplasty in the spring.

In terms of my gender expression, I usually have short hair, I’m growing a patchy quarantine beard, I wear men’s clothing, etc. But saying I have a “masculine” gender expression is an interesting thing because it depends on your point of view. Compared to my pre-transition gender expression I come across as much more masculine now, but compared to gender-conforming cisgender heterosexual men, I do not come across as masculine at all! People often assume I’m a gay man because I am gender non-conforming in some ways, like I have effeminate mannerisms and while I only wear men’s clothes I wear super skinny jeans and the like, so when I’m in a group of men they often think I am feminine, and therefore I must be gay because #sterotypes be like that.

So I use the term transmasculine because it can be helpful in describing what my transition is, like where I’m coming from and where I’m going to, even though I’m not stereotypically Masculine™.

Despite my masculine-esque appearance and transition, I actually identify as genderqueer and non-binary and I feel that my gender itself is neutral and not particularly masculine or feminine.

I don’t understand what it means to “feel like” a boy/man, I don’t use masculine-coded words to refer to myself and prefer gender-neutral language, and I had a choice between being in a men’s group or space and a gender neutral group or space I’d always choose the gender neutral one.

I’ve just always known that I would be happier in a more stereotypically “male” body and being in my pre-transition body was increasingly distressing after puberty. Some people who have similar feelings as I do might choose to identify as a trans man, but I’ve just never felt the need to do so.

So even though I identify with masculinity and would consider myself transmasculine, I don’t consider myself a trans male, and that’s how someone can be transmasculine but not a trans man!

Transmasculine is the umbrella term that covers both binary transgender men like your son and non-binary people like me who choose to transition in a masculine way.

In your son’s case, it seems likely that he is both transmasculine and a transgender male. He’d be transmasculine because he likely is transitioning (or wants to transition) in a masculine way and/or identifies with masculinity or male-ness more than femininity or female-ness, and he’d be a transgender man because he knows he is a man despite the gender he was assigned at birth.

So it’s possible to be transmasculine and a trans man.

That being said, there’s a bunch of different terms that people use within the community and which term someone uses depends on the context and what they’re comfortable.

Some trans men may not be particularly attached to the word transmasculine as a self-identifier even though it’s a label they could choose to claim because they feel like it’s redundant or not necessary because saying they’re a trans man already conveys the same information that transmasculine does.

Transmasculine is a useful term for describing the overlap between the section of the trans male and AFAB non-binary community, but it doesn’t describe all AFAB non-binary people either, as some may identify as a trans neutral or eschew a broader umbrella altogether.

So transmasculine doesn’t mean the same thing as assigned female at birth, and not all transgender people who were AFAB are also transmasculine.

Anyhow, being knowledgeable about the various self-identity terms people may use and how the various umbrella terms fit together is definitely a cool thing to do in supporting him, but I don’t really think it’s the most important thing! I’ll be honest, there’s a lot of terms out there that even I don’t know, especially specific microlabels for gender identities, and different people define and apply the same terms in different ways. But messing up on terms matters to some people more than others, so it is good to get an idea of the commonly used terms to avoid misunderstandings and hurt feelings.

In general, the most important thing you can do to support his journey is listen to him about what he needs and make sure you’re approachable so he knows that you will listen to him.

Now for some advice that you didn’t ask for! I just can’t help myself, so here we go.

I’d personally recommend looking into trans-competent mental health providers in your area. This is useful for a couple of reasons, the first being that pre-transition trans people often have depression because they struggle with being misgendered, incidents of transphobia, dysphoria about their bodies, being rejected and not accepted by peers/relatives/teachers, and so on, which is a lot to add on top of the usual stress from high school! And therapy can be helpful in finding strategies to cope with gender dysphoria.

Additionally, medical providers and insurance companies who follow the WPATH-SOC will require a letter from a psychologist saying that the person is ready to take [insert relevant medical transitioning step] so seeing a therapist is often the first step towards a medical transition, and at age 14 he might be interested in starting puberty blockers until he’s able to go on testosterone. Or he might want to start testosterone right away, or do neither, but having a therapist and getting diagnosed with gender dysphoria can help get through the gatekeeping process that may be present in medical transitioning if that is the path he decides he want to take.

But be careful of how you bring this up- you really don’t want it to come across as you saying “you’re trans so you’re mentally ill and you need therapy,” because the fear of conversion therapy means if you don’t make it clear why you’re suggesting therapy he might be hearing the completely different message of “you need therapy so you can stop being trans and get better” which is not your intent at all.

Every step makes your child’s life better- I legally changed my name at 17, which was hard for my parents to allow because obviously they were attached to the name they had given me at birth, but it made a big difference in my mental health. And the earlier people transition the easier it is for them.

It might also be helpful to offer to buy him men’s clothing and underwear and shoes and men’s deodorant and all that if he only has women’s things right now. He might be between the boy’s and the men’s sizes for clothes, but most folks can find something they can fit into.

You might also want to offer to buy him a safe binder from a reputable binder company. Binding unsafely can have risks, and if he can’t get a safe binder he might choose to bind unsafely with a cheap and dangerous binder or ace bandages or duct tape and so on, or bind for too long because he has to hide it and can’t get away to change out of it.

Buying a packer is another thing that he might want, but of course, with all of these things you also shouldn’t make assumptions about what your son will want or need.

For example, some trans men may not medically transition and/or may not aim for an masculine gender expression because gender expression and genitals are different than gender identity. So even if he doesn’t want to go on testosterone, or decides to wear a dress sometimes or doesn’t pack, it doesn’t mean that he’s not trans.

You don’t want him to think that you’re saying that he should want these things or need them to be valid, or feel like you’re pressuring him into taking steps that he’s not ready for in his transition. But if you don’t bring up the topic at all, he might be too anxious to tell you about it because he’s worried about what you might think.

I do emphasize that being trans is rarely a phase, detransitioning is not common, trans people know who we are and we know our genders and you should trust our word on that and so on, but I think sometimes people push the “it’s not a phase!!!!” message so hard that they don’t leave any wiggle room for people who are still questioning and coming to terms with their identity.

Especially at the start of someone’s journey we need to be open to some level of uncertainty and change. The only person who knows what someone’s gender identity is the person whose gender it is. It’s very important to take your son at his word! But figuring out your identity can be a process, so be understanding if he switches names, pronouns, or gender labels a few times while he’s still figuring it out.

It’s likely that you will slip up with names and pronouns on occasion, and the best thing to do is just correct yourself, and move on.

You can briefly apologize (wait to do it later when you’re in private if it occured in front of someone) if you feel like it’s necessary. But don’t make it into a big deal, which calls attention to it and can be embarrassing for the trans person, and don’t start to self-flagellate about it and beat yourself up because then it makes it about you, and the trans person feels compelled to say “it’s fine” or something to reassure you when it isn’t fine.

Just correct yourself and move on, and do better next time! Then make sure you actually practice with his chosen name and pronouns so you make fewer mistakes in the future- practice makes perfect, as they say.

You should also make sure you’re an active ally to trans people in your everyday life if you weren’t already doing this. This is something you should ideally be doing whether or not you have a trans son who just came out.

Finally, make sure you get the support you need. You might find seeing a therapist helpful for yourself, or connecting with a support group for parents of LGBTQ children- many are meeting on Zoom now, so if there isn’t a group local to you there’s probably one online you can join! Be careful to avoid the transphobic mom groups that promote conversion therapy, rapid onset gender dysphoria, and don’t believe in being transgender. Finding a good support group will let you vent when you need to and find community for yourself as well- it’s a lot to process, and it can be emotionally difficult for you on top of managing the logistics.

But honestly, I wouldn’t recommend telling your son about anything you’re struggling with when it comes to his identity because saying things like “I feel like I’m mourning my daughter” isn’t going to make your relationship with your son any better. Especially because he’s 14, telling him that you’re having a hard time is just going to hurt him without helping you any, so it’s best to keep those feelings between yourself and your support system until you’ve reached that stage of acceptance when you’re no longer struggling with coming to terms with it. He needs to be reassured that you’re supportive of who he is and he won’t be able to reconcile your support with those statements, so don’t lie but don’t volunteer those sentiments.

The For parents/guardians intro has some of the same stuff as I mentioned above, like links to safe binders and packers and info on puberty blockers and the benefits of medical transitioning, so check that out too if you haven’t!

All in all, I think it’s really great that you’re reaching out and trying to support him! I know that even trans folks with really supportive parents still have anxiety about being rejected so it’s good to give them a little extra reassurance to show that you do care about him and that you do see him as male and you respect what he’s sharing with you. Good luck to both of you!

Followers, anything to add?

#Lee says #transmasculine #trans male #terminology #parent #parents #allies #for allies #cis asker #Anonymous #trans #transgender #transgenderteensurvivalguide #TTSG

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800milesisadrive · 4 years ago

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Straight, Cis and Queer AF

The last year or so has been pretty rough for me personally. I've shared a lot on here, mostly just as a means of processing shit.

There's a term in computer science called "Rubber Ducking" that's basically an informal version of the classic Socratic Method. I find it invaluable for collecting my thoughts and focusing, both in work in personal life.

This is one of those posts: I'm writing it for my own benefit. While I welcome conversation, I don't have any expectation for you, random horny person, to sit through all this.

My partner, who picked the lovely pseudonym of Lilith, is non binary and bi. She's an amazingly talented person, and because of her success, she's been engaged in interviews and PR recently.

One issue that keeps coming up is the semantics of gender and sexual identity.

Lilith is female at birth, and has used cis female presentation as a default. She doesn't particularly identify as female, but her gender fluidity means the available pronouns and parlance are all "equally wrong" for her.

In other words, Lilith is "she/her" by default and convenience.

When we first started dating nearly a decade ago, the terms and language for non-binary gender weren't common. Concepts like Mx. and They/Them pronouns were on the fringes of culture, and it's only in the last few years Non-Binary has started showing up in formal settings and style-guides.

My understanding of queer identity these last few years has been through her experience. I've considered myself an ally and (for reasons I'll explain soon) have always been in the more engaged side of queer culture and socialization.

As part of my general anxiety over re-socializing post-COVID, I've been having serious flashbacks and nightmares around my adolescence. Shit was really bad for me. I hated my brain, my body, my sex drive.

I know everyone has a some degree of "puberty sucks", so I've always thought I was unexceptionable. But digging into what made that period in my life so absolutely awful, I think my experience was on the extreme side.

So, time to overshare.

I was a late bloomer, didn't start until 14 and didn't stop having growth spurts until 19. Having a late puberty is associated with more negative experiences for men, though the research is a little contested at the moment.

I was also overweight during my early teens. Borderline obese, which in addition to just compounding horrible body image - is now suspected to be a complicating factor regarding late onset puberty.

So here's the thing I'm struggling to articulate, the reason I'm sharing all this in the first place.

I had... well, there's not a real clinical term for it?

"Orientation Dysmorphia" is the closest shorthand I can think of.

I hated that I had a sex drive. I hated watching my friends go through it before me, being fixated on sex and (mostly) girls while I just was increasingly uncomfortable.

To be clear: while I was uncomfortable in my own skin, I've never hated being male in appearance. It wasn't that I didn't want to be a guy - it was that I didn't want to be a cis-het dude.

Recounting some of this, Lilith asked: If I had been given the option to take puberty blockers back then, would I have taken them?

Yes. Without any hesitation, I would have taken puberty blockers.

Back in the late 90's, the concept of puberty blockers was fringe at best. To 14 year old me, idea of chemically halting the invasive thoughts and urges was something out of science fiction.

I recall laying awake at night, crying - wishing I was dead, so I didn't have to lose any more of my "self". I would self-harm to get out of things like "swing dancing" lessons in gym class. I cut off friendships, isolated and avoided pretty much anyone my age, because they all seemed to be embracing and reinforcing a dynamic that was breaking my soul.

On reflection, almost all my friends around this age were outside of gender and orientation norms. I didn't seek out queer people consciously, but in retrospect almost all my best friends from middle school onward were gay, lesbian, ace, trans or non-binary.

It took a while, but by the time my body settled and I was out of the nightmare of hormones and peer peer pressure that was high school - I'd settled in being a version of who I still think of myself as today.

Cis, male and straight - but with little care about presentation or engagement in the norms of my demographic.

I'm going to still identify as this going forward. It feels like the most-accurate labeling I can apply to myself. That said, I have a bit of an ulterior motive: I want to give visibility on being a cis hetero guy that's non-conforming.

I'm some version of "queer". I don't conform, and I've struggled for years to find my voice and identity.

In figuring out who I am, I've landed back at a version of the one quadrant of gender-orientation that normally is considered "default".

I'm writing this here, semi-anonymously, because I honestly know how important visibility and representation is in today's world. I know "straight dudes" already have massive privilege, and my "passing" gets me out of being directly impacted by a million things, from micro-aggressions to legal/political issues.

But I still have struggled and identified with other's struggles with queer normalization, nearly every day of my life.

Dysmorphia is an old friend of mine, and it takes zero imagination to relate to the trans and nb narratives people have shared over the years.

Pressure to conform to sexual behavior and presentation is something that broke me a hundred times over, nearly killed me.

That's all I needed to share, for now.

If you've somehow made it to the end of this - I'd appreciate hearing whatever perspective you have.

If it feels like I'm appropriating? If my experience is (or isn't) relatable? If you have resources or language I'm missing? Please, please let me know. I'm still grappling with this, still looking for framing and perspective.

Reposting because I somehow accidently deleted the original.

#ooc #wall of text #dysphoria #queer discourse #traumatic memories #queer stuff

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marisair · 4 years ago

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welcome aboard, marisa irigaray, student #14. we are excited to set sail with you ! has anyone told you that you look like macarena achaga? according to our records, you hail from montevideo, uruguay, prefer she/her, are cis female, and are here to study philosophy. we also see you received a spot on the ss university because of your academic scholarship — we won’t tell anyone. during your first few weeks here, other students said you were + confident, + independent, but also - deceiving. it sounds like you spend most of your time at the sun deck. upon checking your luggage, we noticed you packed a necklace brought from home. hopefully your roommates don’t steal it!

STATS / / PINTEREST

hey there! i’m ella (she/her, cst) and i’m so excited to play marisa because she’s a character i’ve had in my mind for a while so this is very exciting for me. if you’d like to plot, please feel free to message me or ask for my discord if you prefer.

basic information

FULL NAME: Maria Isabel Irigaray Monroy

NICKNAME: Marisa

AGE: Twenty-three

DATE OF BIRTH: November 12, 1997

PLACE OF BIRTH: Montevideo, Uruguay

GENDER: Cis Female

PRONOUNS: She/her

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Demiromantic

LANGUAGES: Spanish and English

OCCUPATION: Philosophy student

character inspo

alexis rose (schitt’s creek)

marissa cooper (the oc)

haley dunphy (modern family)

regina george (mean girls)

catherine earnshaw (wuthering heights)

background

Born in Montevideo, Uruguay, Marisa always believed she was destined for more than what she had which was not a lot.

For the first five years of her life, Marisa knew what being part of the 1% was like. Her family had several businesses but that all changed in 2002 when the economic crisis hit Uruguay.

After her family lost pretty much everything, the Irigarays had to settle with a humble lifestyle which was not ideal for her mother, Isabela (who had married Carlos Irigaray because of his fortune).

From a young age, Marisa was told by her mother that she would be the one that would bring prestige and wealth back to their family name.

cheating tw Isabela tried everything from pushing both of her daughters into modeling and acting to cheating on her husband with wealthy man who would only give her expensive presents but nothing more.

A smart child, Marisa always got scholarships intro private schools and that only increased her need for money. She hated being the girl with the scholarship, not being able to invite her friends over because she felt ashamed of her small house that have no comparison with their mansions.

When she got into a prestigious high school, she decided to pretend. Told everyone that while her father’s company had gone bankrupt they still had a lot of family money and that her father now was a big executive for a bank. She dressed with designer brands, clothes and accessories that friends from her previous school had given to her.

It all seemed to work until her final year when a girl jealous of her found out she’d been lying and exposed her in front of the whole school.

For the next months, she was relegated and mocked for lying. The biggest humiliation in her life.

After graduation, she got a scholarship for a private school but opted to skip it because she couldn’t handle the rejection again. She enrolled into a public university and for some time she was happy until her greed came back.

She started dating a man 10 years older than her who had a lot money. There was no love between them, she liked the lifestyle he gave her and he liked showing her off. It was a silent agreement.

Marisa dropped out to be with him all the time but after two years he kicked her out of his life, and broke the news that he was engaged and that while she was great she was not good wife material.

Without a plan, Marisa decided to go back to school and this time she was told by her mother of a new experimental educational program. Without anything to lose, she applied for a scholarships and she was granted it.

But old habits die hard and once again Marisa began lying about her background, saying her father was a wealthy banker and that she was on the ship on a scholarship because she wanted to prove herself.

personality

Marisa is independent, beautiful, spoiled, arrogant and temperamental. She craves freedom in every respect, but, whether out of fear or simply selfishness, she makes decisions that she herself knows will make her unhappy, but that she still carries out. She always emotional and not very rational. She’s often torn between being herself and her social ambition. She can be cruel and mean but beneath this exterior she’s very insecure and craves true connection. Marisa is very smart but she often plays dumb because it’s what people expect from her. As a friend, she’s loyal and will do anything to protect those she cares for.

established connections

bffs with aurora cunningham

one night stand of lacey hamilton

bully of luna hendrix

wanted connections

confidant: this person is the only one who knows the true about Marisa and for some reason they have agreed to keep her secret.

crush: I would love for Marisa to have a crush on someone who is not her type and she just hides it as if it was a state secret.

fwb: she’s bisexual

ex: good terms or bad terms

pen pal: someone she wrote with before coming to the ship

** i can’t think of any other lmao but pls plot with us

#seasintro #cheating tw #this is not perfect but it's what i have #come plot with us

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quinntessentiallyglee · 3 years ago

Note

Dianna Agron ;)

from here

send me a FC and i’ll make up a character on the spot.

This feels like cheating just a bit for a number of reasons, not least of which is that Quinn was my very first (and for a while, only) muse on this blog when it first started, but also because I have a few plot bunny posts that could probably work for a non-Quinn Dianna FC.

Add on to that that this photo:

has been given me some Di-as-Lucifer-Morningstar-AU vibes since I first saw it, and that I've been toying with the idea of a Quinn-as-Elphaba Glee/Wicked crossover fic for even longer, and I have a number of choices ready and raring to go already.

But, in the interest of fairness, and because I'm looking for a creative challenge (which isn't much of one if I'm just going with ideas I've already had), I'll start from scratch (with a "Random Dianna Agron" picture for reference [note: the actual search terms I used]). So without further ado, I give you a brand new Dianna Agron Muse:

So, quick admission before we get started: this is one of my favourite Di pictures.

Anyway, on with the Muse (not sure I should use the cheat sheet format for this as it will only add to the temptation to make her official, but I use this format for a reason so here you go):

FC: Dianna Agron

FANDOM: OC

AGE: 28+

ORIENTATION: Bi-(ish)

Appearance

HAIR COLOUR: Blonde (Default), Verse Dependant

EYE COLOUR: Green/Hazel

TATTOO: None (Default), Verse Dependant

General

FULL NAME: Persephone Emelia Blake

NICKNAME: Perc, Percy, Seph, Em (reserved for very close friends and family)

BIRTHDAY: Sept 01 (technically her birthday)

PRONOUNS: She/Her/Hers

GENDER: Cis-Female

HOMETOWN: (Somewhere in Northern California--not sure where, just getting very strong Northern California vibes)

CURRENT LOCATION: New York (Default), Verse Dependant

OCCUPATION: (The Actress/Model vibes are strong with this one, but I can't help but feel that it would be something a little more mundane. Definitely something with some kind of organizational element to it--Consultant, Event/Wedding planner, or possibly something in local/state level politics)

RELIGION: Christian/Catholic (Default)

SOCIAL CLASS: Upper Middle Class (Default), Verse Dependant

LANGUAGES: English, Spanish (Default)

Family

MOTHER: Stephanie Blake

FATHER: Jeremy Blake

SIBLINGS: (getting a strong "only child" vibe with a hint of [much] younger brother... so we'll go with only child for now as I'm also getting a strong sense of-)

CHILDREN: (which may be where the much younger brother is coming in, in which case maybe at least one son, but as said son isn't given me a name, they shall remain a maybe for now).

Personality

TRAITS: Patient, Personable (at least Professionally, getting a bit of lone wolf vibe for her personal life, but not sure if that's just because she's career/work focused, or social awkward, or content/more comfortable with a small social pool), Capable, Organized/Multi-tasker

FLAWS: TBD

ALLERGIES: Strawberries, Milk

SIGN: Virgo

HOGWARTS HOUSE: Ravenclaw (with a [fair] touch of Slytherin)

LIKES: Success, Coffee (no cream, two sugars), 'Classic' B&W Rom-Coms (especially anything with Cary Grant)

DISLIKES: Failure, Dairy of any kind (or at least what it does to her), Incompetence.

#anon #ask: scenario starter #asked and answered #ooc: muse #FC: Dianna Agron #Face Claim

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starship-imzadi · 4 years ago

Text

S5 E17 The Outcast

Androgyny is defined as having both male and female characteristics so that a specific gender cannot be determined.

Jonathan Frakes has reportedly gone on record to express his belief that Soren should have been cast with a male actor as it would have sent a stronger message. And I absolutely agree.

As it is, Soren identifies as a woman and is played by a woman which is just reestablishing a heteronormative status quo. In fact, all of the credited cast who portray the J'naii are women.

I have a problem with this. Often times the dichotomy of western heterosexual gendering is seen as "the haves and the have nots". E.g. men have body hair, women do not (which is absolutely untrue). Women are emotional, men are not (also absolutely untrue). Women as "the weaker sex" are often seen as "without" and androgyny is sometimes construed as being more "without" because it's supposed to be lacking the characteristics that give definition or.... features that are identifiable as a certain gender. Casting all women to be androgynous is, in a way, sexist for this reason. Though the non speaking and background J'naii are far enough away they seem less defined and more androgynous (some might be cast with men but it's not possible to tell...which is the way it should be).

Okay...so, Riker gets a bad rap for his struggle with pronouns and misgendering BUT what he's doing is actually incredibly important and valuable. Riker is canonically an American, heterosexual, cis gendered, Caucasian, male. He is the character that the most privileged, and most represented demographic will see themselves in and relate to. He is put in a position where he doesn't understand the experience of the person opposite him, he's trying his best and he makes mistakes, but he's also demonstrating that he's open to learning.

I've also seen some small uproar, especially from younger viewers (I'm looking at anyone born after the year 2000) over the writers not using they/them pronouns "I do not think there is really a translation". It is true that "they" as a pronoun to refer to a non specific person in common speech has been in use since the time of Shakespeare. Up until women's suffrage in legal context the pronoun used was "he" without specifically meaning a man. I.e. those pronouns were place holders for an unknown person regardless of gender or sex. Non masculine or feminine pronouns used to refer to a known individual is a slightly different story. There have been many different pronouns developed and used to greater or lesser extent through the entire 20th century (e.g. Hir or Xe) However, none of them really caught on for regular use across the entire language. "They" has been adopted most successfully because it is already in the language but its prominent use and acceptance wasn't until between approximately 2013 and 2015. This episode aired in 1992.

I really like that early on Soren and Riker are given an established shared interest. Too often on this show two people are put together....and it's not clear why they like each other. In such a short span of time it's tough to establish a believable new relationship, but this is a good first step.

They've known each other two days? It is reminiscent of "The Masterpiece Society" just a few episodes ago where Troi started to fall in love after five days. (Maybe they're both just very loving people.)

Also, in the midst of the misgendering, I'm pleased that the writers (or whoever) chose for Riker to use "he" because it plays against this species that's supposed to be androgynous but... Have a tendency to look feminine.

Riker's dad had a recipe for split pea soup...I wonder when he ever cooked it though. Riker mentions that it's good for cold Alaskan nights and it's the second episode in recent memory of his mentioning that he's from Alaska (the other was "Conundrum") I can't actually remember it being mentioned prior to that episode.... though there's a good chance it was established in the "Icarus Factor" and i know it's mentioned again in "Lower Decks"

A lot of the focus on this episode from fans seems to be on Soren being transgender but the J"aii are also homosexual. Riker and Soren have two different paradigms that are represented as neither worse nor better nor even given a moral label, they're just different. (Although, the J'naii's insistence that Soren cannot be male or female in gender or sex, is clearly meant to be the reciprocal of any insistence by humans that we can only be male or female in gender and sex.)

"I like one who's intelligent, sure of herself, who I can talk with and get something back. But the most important thing of all, she has to laugh at my jokes."

This conversation has a great sub text: different men like different things in women (and vis versa) so for someone to even identify as "heterosexual" doesn't mean every member of a different sex is attractive to them. And it begs the question: why are so many people with different qualities all under the same gender "umbrella"?

I've seen screen caps of Soren asking about human male genitals but they only show Riker's surprise. Really he deserves more credit because he handles the question really well. The way he handles everything very kindly and graciously, and the fact that Soren continues to ask questions, is a real testament to the safe place that he makes for discussion and curiosity.

There's some... dark humour in how Star Trek talks about misogyny and sexism. It's one of the notable hypocrisies and failings in star trek: to talk about a better future, while still operating on damaging ideals, and without any real idea of the journey it would actually take for society to reach "better". Both Gate and Marina had struggles with how they and their characters were treated compared to the men.

Oh boy. Worf's sexism fluctuates a lot, but when they need someone to be a misogynist, Worf is the go to and it's always painful. And Data asks the innocent, child-like questions. With a scene like this there are unfortunate reflection on some of the characters BUT the main purpose of the scene is, a slightly heavy handed, means of proposing different view points for representation and comparison. It's not really about the characters at all.

I'll say just from experience with that long hours spent working together will create some sort of bond for pretty much any two people. Love or other wise.

This scene is clearly about Soren coming out to Riker. And he takes it as kindly as he has everything else so far.

Geordi has a beard! (LeVar apparently grew it for his wedding)

"good hunting commander"

"thank you sir. See you for dinner." Do Riker and Picard have dinner together? (I love a good found family shared meal).

I really like this scene between Will and Deanna.

"well this one looks like you" with the teddy bear absolutely gets me every time. And Deanna's side look! I love their friendship and comfort together.

"You're my friend and I thought... I don't know, i thought I should tell you."

"I'm glad you did"

"Nothing will change between us, will it?"

"Of course it will. All relationships are constantly changing. But we'll still be friends, maybe better friends. You're a part of my life, and I'm a part of yours. That much will always be true."

This really hits home. Regardless of the label for their relationship, regardless of the details of the boundaries of their relationship, Troi is affirming for Riker that they are important enough to each other, that he is important enough to her, that she will stay in his life and keep him in hers. In a way this touches on what was established way back "Haven". The characterizations were still being sorted out to a large extent, but when Troi was due to be married Riker thought he was losing her and Troi ask him "i am no longer imzadi to you?" But even as much as they love each other, Riker isn't taking for granted that Troi will stay in his life once he becomes involved with someone. Troi is assuring him, promising to him, that she will stay. And the fact that Riker went to her, to tell her about him and Soren, was his way of demonstrating to Troi that she is still important to him, and that he wants to keep her in his life too.

Props to Riker for protecting Soren. Not only did he keep her secret he tried to help her preserve it.

This is a really good and impassioned speech that, even though its clearly about legislation against homosexuality, doesn't feel over the top like a lot of star trek speeches can. It's probably one of the better speeches not given by Picard.

This is the second episode in a row Riker has gone to Picard for guidance...kind of.

It's kind of sweet that Worf offers as a friend to help Riker jeopardize his career, for the sake of someone important to him, even though he doesn't like or understand the J'naii.

In the end, the Enterprise must maintain its status quo, so much like "The Host", there had to be a reason then love interest cannot stay. Even if the reason is honestly so disheartening and sad. I genuinely believe Riker cared for Soren, and this is so devastating. This was probably the best single episode relationship in terms of development.

Picard is so gentle and subtle with Riker.

Engage (!)

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honibee-arts · 5 years ago

Note

dramatic villain nie huaisang and hero jiang cheng? maybe nie huaisang flirts with the hero while jiang cheng is kinda horny but has a duty to fulfill?

Just a warning this gets a little steamy but its a kind of pan to the window vibe. I will mark this as NSFWish text to be safe though.

"Jie, I don't think I can get all of these people out of here in time.” Jiang Cheng panted into his headset, holding the crumbling ceiling up with one arm, watching the people run out.

He heard his sister sigh, her manicured nails clicking against her keyboard.

“Lightbearer and Moonbeam should be on the scene in the next two minutes.” she replied.

“Jie, I don’t have two minutes. This building is going to collapse in the next thirty fucking seconds.”

“A-Cheng, language.”

“I’m holding up a building, I don’t even have super strength. I’m gonna die like this. Can’t you tell them to hurry up?” He grit his teeth. He’s going to have a fucking hernia and broken bones after this shit, and he was going to make that stoic asshole Lightbearer pay for his goddamn medical bills. He probably had more than enough money.

“They’re going as fast as they can, A-Cheng.”

“And your boyfriend couldn’t come and help?”

“A-Xuan’s taking A-Ling today so you could patrol, remember?”

“It’s hard to remember when I’m being crushed.”

Jiang Cheng widened his stance, pushing the crumbling ceiling back up with both hands, growling in pain. Black spots began to gather in his vision, his static flickering across his visor from the strain on his suit.

“We’ll take it from here, thank you, Violet Spider.” Came Moonbeam’s firm yet gentle tone, taking the weight literally off of Jiang Cheng’s shoulders.

“About fucking time.” He wheezed, taking a deep breath as his arms dropped by his sides, wincing in pain.

“Would appreciate some gratitude.” Lightbearer huffed petulantly as he helped his brother carefully lift the falling ceiling back up, holding it there in an eerie white glow.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes as the remaining people rushed past them, scrambling to get out of there as quickly as possible. Jiang Cheng didn’t blame them in their haste, not one bit. He didn’t like being the one to hold that shit up.

“Are you alright, A-Cheng?” His sister asked in his earpiece, the display on his visor recalibrating.

“Yeah, yeah. Just. Exhausted...” he stood back and caught his breath.

“I’ll make sure to have some lotus rib soup for you when you get home, A-Cheng. I’ll check over your injuries too.”

“A-Jie, you don’t need to do that.”

“Aiya, hush. It’s nothing. I’ll check what the damages are to your suit too.”

“A-Jie...”

“No buts, A-Cheng.”

He sighed and looked down, his hair falling over his visor as he stared at the rubble beneath his feet.

“I’m going to have the longest goddamn nap in history after this.”

“You deserve it, A-Cheng.” A-Jie hummed. “Thank you, A-Xuan.” she said softly, sipping what Jiang Cheng assumed was a cup of tea handed to her by her boyfriend.

In his visor, purple warning symbols flared up in his periphery.

“A-Cheng-”

“On it.” He said as he spotted a flare of green a few blocks away. Gritting his teeth against the ache in his arms, Jiang Cheng jumped up onto the wall of the nearest building, scaling it as quickly as possible and sprinting across the rooftops.

Sometimes, only sometimes, Jiang Cheng hated this fucking job. Sure, he could have a normal 9-5 job and earn a stable income, but no, he just had to be born the son of Yunmeng’s protector and inherit her powers and mantle, along with a load of fucking pressure. He just had to have been trained intensely by his mother, day in and day out from the second his powers manifested at 11. He just had to have had the heroes instinct and the motto of “Attempt the impossible” drummed into him since he was a child.

As much as he wanted to push back against his instinct to protect in favour of his exhaustion sometimes, he couldn’t stop himself.

The blasts led him to the Jin Corporation office building in Yunping, only a half mile from the crumbling building he was just almost crushed under.

“A-Jie, the source is coming from the Jin Corp. offices in Yunping.”

“Mm. I saw. The building that you were just in was a Jin owned business too.” She replied thoughtfully.

“Does your boyfriend know anything about someone that might have been slated by his father? Cousin maybe?”

“Nothing. I know Jin Guangyao had a complicated relationship with Red Blade. There were rumours about him having something to do with his retirement.”

‘Retirement’ had been a delicate way of putting what happened to Red Blade. When Jiang Cheng had first come onto the hero scene, Red Blade had taken him under his wing. He had been something of an older brother figure, despite being the protector of Qinghe rather than Yunmeng.

He had been familiar with Jiang Cheng’s abilities, having also been mentored by Jiang Cheng’s predecessor. Everyone knew and respected Red Blade. His super strength and speed was matched by none, in his prime he could leap a building in a single bound and punch a meteor out of the sky without so much as a single scratch. With all that power however, came a price. Red Blade had been prone to feral rages which were difficult to pull him out of, very few people could. Moonbeam seemed to be the only one beside whoever was in his ear all the time who could do it.

About six months ago, Red Blade had disappeared for three days. Moonbeam had found him snarling and bleeding from his eyes, his right arm severed and his eyes white. How Red Blade had survived, Jiang Cheng had no idea. After a few weeks in a medically induced coma, Red Blade had announced his retirement and hung up his mantle for good. Only Moonbeam was said to know what had happened to him following his retirement. There was sometime unspoken between those two that Jiang Cheng couldn’t quite figure out but stank of probably resolved sexual tension.

“Shit!” Jiang Cheng cursed, narrowly avoiding a blast of green energy, rolling onto the nearest roof and ducking for cover.

“A-Cheng.” A-Jie chided.

“Like you didn’t say worse when you were being shot at.” Jiang Cheng argued, sending a bolt of violet lighting back.

“Back in the day, I didn’t run my mouth like a sailor, A-Cheng.”

“I bet you don’t miss this part of heroing, huh?”

“There are times I am grateful I took a permanent maternity leave, yes.” She replied. “A-Cheng! On your left! Someone’s coming your way, and its not anyone on the Lotus servers. Be on your guard.”

Jiang Cheng nodded and raised his hackles as a a figure cloaked in blinding green energy floated onto the building, their black heels clicking against the concrete roof. As soon as the figure was close enough, Jiang Cheng shot a bolt of lightning in their direction, yet, to his horror, it was deflected easily.

“Come on out little spider, I won’t hurt you.” The figure said.

Jiang Cheng swallowed thickly and stepped out, hackles still raised.

“Aiya, so defensive. Put your arms down so I can see your pretty face. I won’t try anything.” Jiang Cheng slowly lowered his arms but kept his guard up, stance firm. “So stubborn. That’s better though, hello handsome.”

The figure was slender, androgynous with long, dark hair that shone in their eerie green glow and flowed behind them in the wind, their eyes afire with the energy that seemed pulse from their entire being, almost drawing Jiang Cheng in like a moth to a particularly deadly yet hard to resist flame. Their body was wrapped in a skin-tight leather-like substance with mesh panels, leaving even less to the imagination, half of their face obscured by a mask that started at the neck and wrapped around his mouth and nose.

Jiang Cheng swallowed thickly, ready to burst into action whenever necessary.

“And what should I call you?” Jiang Cheng said steadily.

“Well, I go by he/him pronouns, but I do quite like it when sexy men like you call me beautiful.” He giggled, bouncing on his heels a little. “Binary terms are horseshit anyway, gender is a social construct.”

“Not what I meant but. I don’t like misgendering people. Even if they’re tearing up half the fucking city. So. Thanks.”

“Well, I haven’t really given myself a name yet.” The man hummed, snapping open one of the fans in his hand and fluttering it lightly. “Kinda just wanted to do one thing and hang up the whole thing I guess.”

“And you wanted to what, not get caught?”

“Well, something of the sort.”

“And you assumed you could do this tearing up half the city looking like a green lava lamp dressed like a hooker?”

“A-Cheng! Be nice!”

“Yes, listen to your sister, A-Cheng.”

“How do you know that!” Jiang Cheng snapped, his hands sparking.

“Whoa, whoa, easy hot stuff, I mean you and your family no harm. You have your headset on way too loud and everyone can hear you saying A-Jie so. Go figure.”

“Alright... I’ll be more mindful in the future.”

“He seems genuine, A-Cheng. I’m going to log off for now, but I’ll keep an eye on your vitals and see if you seem like you need help.”

“Alright...” He heard the line go quiet, her lotus icon in the corner of his visor going totally transparent.

“Is it just us?” The man asked.

“Yeah. Just us. So. What the fuck is your deal?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“The Jin corporation have fucked plenty of innocent people over, but there are also innocent people in that tower you’re trying to destroy.”

“They’re collateral. I’ve accepted those losses.” The man said, his demeanour turning cold suddenly.

“Are you fucking crazy?”

“You wouldn’t understand my motivations.” The man turned around and stared ahead at the slowly burning building ahead of them.

“Ugh, what is it with villains and cryptic bullshit? I can’t let you wreck the fucking building, okay?”

“Watch me.”

Jiang Cheng lunged and grabbed his arm, earning a blast of green energy to his solar plexus that sent him staggering. Today was not his day.

“If you want a fight, then fine.” The man said, rolling his shoulders. “I’m just sorry I’ll have to kick that glorious ass of yours.”

Jiang Cheng felt his cheeks flush.

“Oh please, the spandex doesn’t hide shit.” The man said before lunging at Jiang Cheng.

Yeah, okay. This was a day Jiang Cheng really hated his fucking job. His muscles screamed with exhaustion as the man tackled him to the roof, straddling him and pinning his arms above his head. Maybe he was tired and his resolve was slipping, or maybe he had been rocking a semi for a fair amount of the fight and could admit this man was fucking hot despite his different side of the law.

The tightly coiled strength in his deceivingly slender limbs forced Jiang Cheng down as he straddled his lap. As he brushed his groin, Jiang Cheng let out a slight groan.

“Hold on,” The man said, sitting back. “Are you hard? Does fighting me turn you on?”

“Sh-Shut up! Are we gonna fight or not?!” He struggled under his grip.

Fuck, okay. The man was right. This was humiliating. Why does he enjoy this?

“I dunno, do you want some help with that?” The man purred, his long, thick lashes fanning over his cheeks as he leaned in closer, shifting his hips ever so slightly and earning another groan from Jiang Cheng.

“Are you crazy? I’m meant to be fighting you!”

“I know but, I kinda like this vibe we have going. Do you?”

Jiang Cheng bit his lip and looked away, nodding.

“I need a verbal yes.”

“You care about that?”

“I’m an anarchist not a monster, damn. Answer me.”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I... I like... this.”

“And is it a yes that you consent to this rooftop encounter?”

“C’mon I already said-”

“Yes or no spider. I won’t take that horseshit for an answer.”

“... Yes. I would like you to. Help me out.”

“Good,” he hummed, hooking a black gloved finger in his mask and tugging it down, revealing soft, pink lips pulled into a suggestive smirk. “I’m glad to be of service.” and he leaned down to press his lips to Jiang Cheng’s.

#sangcheng #jiang cheng #jiang wanyin #nie huaisang #mdzs #cql #cheng qing ling #the untamed #mo dao zhu shi #ship prompts #nsfwi-sh text #my shitty writing

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priorireverte · 4 years ago

Photo

Congratulations Ash!

Your application for Harry Potter has been accepted. I think we’re all really excited to have such a central, pivotal character in plan. Not just me in my entirely biased excitement for Lily to have her son around. Make sure to let us know if/when you settle on a faceclaim for him.

Please look to the checklist for the next steps and reach out if you have any questions!

OUT OF CHARACTER

NAME & PRONOUNS: Ash & She/her

TIMEZONE: est

ACTIVITY LEVEL: On average, I tend to get online every other day to get through my replies. Although weekends I’ll usually be on daily.

ANYTHING ELSE: Experience - I have been in the Harry Potter rp community for almost ten years now, and have been doing so on Tumblr for about six.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Harry James Potter

BIRTHDATE: 31 July ,1980 Zodiac - Leo. Starting with the obvious, let’s put the Leo in Gryffindor, I see what you did there sorting hat. Harry spent his entire life from the young age of eleven, thrown into the spotlight. Others were interested in him for things outside of his control as long as he could remember, but he’s embraced that attention and put it to good use. He is very compassionate and caring, going out of his way to help others around him. His pride can get in the way at times, and tied with the ability to hold a grudge Harry has a sense of there’s my way and the wrong way. Respect from those he most admires is vital to him. He had spent days obsessing over why Dumbledore hadn’t shared their similarities with him, and has never felt a sense of pride as strong as when McGonagall stood up for him to Umbridge. Harry is a leader, the type of person everyone around him looks towards for the answers to their largest problems.

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Gender and pronouns do not have much meaning to Harry, even though he had grown up with his entire identity being centered around his title as ‘Boy Who Lived’. He has never necessarily felt a connection to this title, but has not thought about it anyplace outside of logistically knowing when someone shouts for ‘the boy’ that can mean him. Harry’s Bisexuality however, is something he has been learning to embrace after years of confusion. His Uncle Vernon of course had a few select words for people who liked the same gender, but outside of pushing away the nerves in his stomach whenever he had to listen to his relatives derogatory language he had not realized that being attracted to multiple genders was an option. Harry has has dated during his teen years; He went on dates to the Yule Ball and Hogsmede, as well as his former relationship with Ginny, but he always felt slightly behind his peers in terms of sexuality and maturation. He assumes it was the fact that he spent so much time feeling unsafe and afraid that he didn’t have the time to explore those feelings, but there was also so many things he simply didn’t know that he is only just learning now in the start of his twenties. BLOOD STATUS: Halfblood. Harry’s status as a halfblood may have been the deciding factor in the course of his entire young life if Dumbeldore’s theories were to be correct, and they usually were. Harry and Tom Riddle shared this trait, both half-blooded wizards and in the end it seemed to have been a deciding factor in Riddle’s choice to mark Harry as the chosen one to become his own equal. However another similarity they share is how out of place they had felt in the muggle world and the strong sense of home the Hogwarts walls had provided both. Harry has no prejudice against those of muggle blood, one of his best friends is muggleborn thank you very much, but he has no connection to the muggles who raised him and were supposed to have been his family.

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor - While he strongly believes it was begging that landed him in red and gold, Harry is very much a Gryffindor. Being brave doesn’t mean never being scared, it’s what you do when faced with fear and Harry has stood up to nearly every terrifying challenge sent his way. He needed that house, as much as he also fit in. Harry grew up the one who was going to end a war, being surrounded by other brave, chivalrous people helped him greatly obtain his own confidence to do what he needed.

OCCUPATION: Harry Potter’s refusal to join the Auror Department sparked quite the buzz once he had finally made the announcement, and the decision had absolutely been one he had not taken lightly in the slightest, but at the end of the day Harry’s fear and distrust in the Ministry won out over his need to constantly swoop in and save the day. That doesn’t mean he hadn’t helped with the effort, he spent the first year out after the war off to help with trials and giving the right information to people who needed it, but after years of being branded a liar he simply couldn’t bring himself to work for the same Ministry who endangered lives by refusing to see what was right in front of them. Instead Harry went home, to the one place that he had always felt he belonged and once again did the impossible. Harry Potter has been the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts for two whole years.

FACECLAIM: tbd

CHARACTER BACKGROUND

POSTBELLUM

While he had not been given the instructions to die at the hands of Voldemort until he had been seventeen and only moments away from walking towards his own murder, after seven years of nothing but waiting for the next fight a part of Harry had assumed from a young age one of them was going to have to ultimately kill the other in the end. The lead up to a final showdown at the end of each school year had been convenient, and while he refused to accept the thought, likely planned out to go that way by a certain headmaster, but it couldn’t have continued on forever. So Harry had never allowed himself to think of a life after the fall of Voldemort, or of happiness and family and one day growing old. He was nothing more than a soldier, a child so deprived of affection he put everything he had into fighting back for the approval of his Professor and put little value on his life outside of being the Chosen One, so the first year following the war was especially hard. From the second he had entered the magical world he had been ‘The Boy Who Lived’. Since the age of eleven years old he had been expected to fight the dark wizards and save the day and he did not know how to be anything else. Harry couldn’t see his value outside of his willingness to jump to the occasion and solve problems. After the war his life’s purpose felt complete at only seventeen years old and it was extremely difficult to accept.

But then the Ministry expected him to be the poster boy for everything they had been doing towards the cleanup process- sending owls on a near daily basis asking Harry to sit on death eater trials or begging him to speak out in favor of the Ministry and their new laws. Just how much of himself Harry was willing to give had been one of the most difficult choices he ever had to make. Fighting injustice was all Harry knew. The Death Eaters had done horrendous things and even after the fall of Voldemort Harry felt a responsibility to ensure they were taken down, however Harry’s trust in the Ministry had been greatly punctured over the years he had been in the magical world, even before the Death Eaters had taken over. It was a delicate balance, and the power his word suddenly held brought a level of anxiety he was unfamiliar with, but he knew that there were too many people who would never see justice without his intervention.

His involvement in the war had only increased his fame and suddenty the Ministry of Magic and every paper in wizarding Britain were harassing him once again. Harry’s friends had been encouraging him to step back and take the time to recover; live a normal, quiet life, whatever that meant. He had never even gotten the time to properly grieve over Sirius’s death, let alone the countless other people he had lost since then who had died in his mind, because of him. He didn’t know how to step back and live a normal life, but he had craved it as long as he could remember so Harry put his everything into attempting. It took a year to realize that Harry that he would never feel that pain in his scar again, that even if he had never wanted it there to begin with an entire piece of someone’s soul he had been living with since he was a year old was gone forever and his only purpose in life had been completed before he ever had a chance to finish his NEWTs.

So He pulled back, isolated himself for a while in a way he wasn’t proud of, but didn’t know how to cope without. Going to anyone but Ron and Hermione with his problems had always seemed incomprehensible, and even then it was always easier to tell them about whatever crazy thing was happening to him at the time than discuss the feelings behind everything he had been through. He busied himself with mindless projects, spending all of his time hiding out from his friends by putting all his energy into restoring 12 Grimmauld Place. The house was now his and he didn’t want to leave the reminder of how horrible his godfather’s own childhood had been. It was the baby Teddy Lupin that was the only one who could get Harry’s undivided attention and compassion for a short while during the beginning of life after the war. He told himself it was so easy to share such raw emotion with the little boy because at first he couldn’t even understand what Harry had been saying, but Harry had felt a strong bond to the boy the second he learned of his godson’s birth. He hadn’t taken over raising Teddy, he was too young and unsure, Andromeda was the right choice as Teddy’s guardian, but Harry made a point to be a large part in his upbringing. He refused to allow him to grow up as lonely and afraid as he had been himself, and Harry felt a personal responsibility to make sure Remus and Tonk’s sacrifices of their lives weren’t for nothing and Teddy would grow up loved and in a world better than any of them grew up in.

Turning down a position in the Auror Program had surprised himself more than it had seemed to any of the people who knew him best, which had only confused him more. His dream job since he had been only fourteen had never truly been a dream, but a logical choice for someone whose entire life revolved around being manipulated into fighting. He had truly believed he would never get past his back and forth with Voldemort, and the auror office only fit the narrative. Even knowing these things didn’t make knowing he was going to be letting people down any easier and he nearly said yes solely out of fear of saying no.

His time back in the castle has been everything he never thought he would be allowed to have and Harry is taking full advantage of that fact. Teaching is something Harry had felt so strongly about in the short time he was doing so with the DA, and in the proper setting where he had the ability to ensure this next generation was not going to have to ever fear their time in the castle was the calling he never knew about.

—

All the lives lost during the war was something that sat in Harry’s thought even still, more than anything else. He never knew anything but loss, but the grief he felt the past few years was different. He hadn’t been grieving the loved ones he never had, instead the people he loved and cherished who were torn away from him too soon. Watching the Weasleys without Fred had to have been the hardest part of anything after the war’s end. He had envied Ron’s family for so long, now all he wanted was to take the hurt away from the people who he grew to call his family that were now going through this pain he knew too well.

As hopeful as the returned made Harry, it all scared him as well. He knew what happened when wixen played around with death, and even more so he knew just how dark the magic around it could be. But he also doesn’t want to feel the pain again of getting his hopes up to have family by his side to have it ripped away. He doesn’t trust it to last.

PERSONALITY

“There’s no need to call me Sir, Professor.”

Harry for some reason unknown to me, has started to be perceived to be this hypsteresque, bad-ass. A smoker, rogue auror who doesn’t play by the rules. Harry Potter is a sassy and sarcastic. But also a quidditch obsessed nerd who loves his friends with everything he has and stands up for what he believes in. He has that stereotypical Gryffindor temper, and does not always think about the consequences of his sharp tongue, but he has never been one to allow people to walk over him or anyone else. He was a victim of abuse and neglect and his words, that wit was the one thing he had to cope as a child treated like nothing more than an unwanted freak. But Harry is also the person who told Snape his nickname was Roonil Waslib. He’d spend hours on end talking to his bird and one of the first moments of the entire series he is empathizing with a snake who had been trapped and never knew their family. His friends are everything to him and Harry’s loyalty can be seen almost as a fault. There is no difference between his friends and family, and to betray or mistrust them is one of the worst things he can imagine of himself.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY

Harry’s memories of life before Privet Drive do not consist of anything more than flashes of colors and the occasional face. Perhaps a voice he wasn’t able to place. Family has always been Harry’s greatest desire, the things he wanted most in the world. The Durleys had been Harry’s closest living relatives, but made it clear they were not Harry’s family. His aunt and uncle made sure to remind him constantly that Harry was nothing more than an inconvenience in their home, and that he would never be as loved or cherished as their son. The idea of family was nothing more than that for a very long time; an idea and a dream. At thirteen the possibility of family had been dangled over his head in the form of a fugitive Godfather. Harry’s time with Sirius was too short, they should have had years together to make up for the twelve apart and it was after his death that Harry felt ready to give up on the idea of ever having a real family of his own. Of course that makes him feel selfish. Ron and Hermione every bit as much his family as any last name or title could make them. Harry could argue they were more family to him than Sirius and him ever had the chance to be. And the night Mrs. Weasley had called Harry ‘as good as’ another son still plays in his mind on a loop some nights when he’s looking for a reason it’s all worth it. Harry’s family isn’t blood, but he loves them all just the same. That doesn’t change the fact that he’s thought this return could mean him getting the only thing he’s ever truly wanted.

HISTORY

Harry really does wonder at times what it would be like to have an easy life. He had only been a baby when the weight of a war was thrown onto his tiny shoulders, marking him the one chosen to defeat the greatest dark wizard of their time. As a small child however, Harry would never have believed it. He had known nothing more than he was an orphan, living in cruel circumstances under the stairs in his aunt and uncle’s home and getting bullied by his cousin. It wasn’t until Harry’s eleventh birthday that his life truly began. When Hagrid had stormed down that hut to tell Harry about the truth of himself and his past, Harry felt a sense of self for the first time in his life. He had gone off to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and made friendships for the first time in his life. Even before the rest of the world had been sucked into another war, Harry had been drawn in from a mixture of a hero complex and clues laid out only slightly too conveniently to test and discover the boy who lived that would one day become the chosen one. Harry fought back every year, somehow always granted a new challenge and more pain until his fourth year when it had become more than a challenge that any reasonable adult would consider too dangerous.

Cedric Diggory’s murder had sparked the beginning of the war, but the greater meaning to Harry lied in the young boy who lost his life solely because he had been in the wrost place at the wrong time. He had gotten between Harry and for that reason alone he was dead. It was something Harry never learned to forgive. And it sparked the belief that people around Harry somehow always ended up dying because of him.

Sirius’s death left Harry inconsolable. He never had the proper time to grieve, with a target on his back and the war picking up quickly, but losing the one family member he had left destroyed Harry in a completely different way. And again, Harry came to the conclusion if he had only checked in the mirror Sirius could have still been alive.

The hunt for horcruxes was something else entirely. He had no connection to anyone outside of Ron and Hermione and when Ron had left it broke Harry’s heart in an entirely different way. He kept waiting for the ball to drop and one of his best friends to get hurt because of him. He clung closer, forgave quicker, and fought harder trying to keep anyone else he loved from dying.

Remus and Tonks’ deaths held a significance just as strong but different for Harry. He was a Godfather and when Remus had named him so it had become the new most important thing about him. Being the Chosen One, or the Boy Who Lived didn’t matter when there was a little boy who depended on him to stay alive and watch out for him.

OOC EXPLORATION

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

This group is every guilty pleasure I have ever had mixed in with a wonderful plot and beautiful writing. Even though recently role plays set in the trio’s era are few and far between, the ones I have been a part of always seem to either lack writers willing to write for Harry or his character is quickly taken by someone who does not know the story beyond either solely the movie franchise or random bits of knowledge. I’ve noticed a stigma in the Potter fandom, especially the role playing community, that the ‘true fans’ have to prefer secondary or background characters. While I also love building on characters we do not see as much of in the books, it has always saddened me that this character that I grew up with is seen as the easy write up. Because we as readers have so much on Harry I’ve actually found his character more difficult to write for, but equally enjoyable.

As per Harry as an actual character, he has been like a friend since I was seven years old.

#prioriacceptance #harry potter

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all-cursed · 4 years ago

Text

Meet my first OC to have a specific fandom they’re attached to!

So I’ve never created an OC specifically for the universe of a show before, they’ve always been fandomless, but I was excited to create one for Wynonna Earp. I’m going to give him a proper page on the muse list as well as give everyone more detailed biographies eventually, but for now, this should work.

DISCLAIMER: to anyone who may have concerns, please know that I myself am Native American (Blackfoot and Cherokee), and did a lot of research while creating this character to make sure I do them justice and create an actual Native character that isn’t just a stereotype. Some parts that might seem stereotypical - such as the name this character chooses to go by - just comes with the modern era the universe is set in and the character’s own reasons. Several of the struggles he faces as well are specifically chosen because I hope to raise awareness in some small ways to the struggles that IPOC face even today. None of it is meant to be fetishising or stereotypical - some of it just exists in that space as an unfortunate reality.

Alright! Here we go.

[ i. STATS ]

NAME. meecha wo’i " crow " redwolf .

AGE. 23 as of 1x01 .

DOB. nov 29th , 1993 .

GENDER. gender-indifferent cis male : prefers he/him or they/them pronouns .

PREF. pansexual but has a preference for men and nonbinary individuals

SPECIES. human , witch , skinwalker .

RESIDENCE. the ghost river triangle .

OCCUPATION. former cashier ; former lead guitar in an up and coming rock band ; current bartender .

ETHNICITY. in simple terms: native american. specifically: hopi and creek. some scottish but not by much.

[ ii. INTROSPECTION ]

POSITIVE TRAITS. curious , adaptable , perceptive , creative , passionate , loyal , perseverant , open-minded , compassionate .

NEUTRAL TRAITS. persuasive , withdrawn (at first; nervous about other’s intentions) , secretive , free-wheeling .

NEGATIVE TRAITS. temperamental , unrestrained , spiteful , reckless , capricious , hedonistic .

DISLIKES. sounds of traffic or loud machinery in general & the sound of metal on metal & the smell of cheap perfume/cologne & hot weather & dust & houseflies & being told (instead of asked) what to do & rap music & wool scarves & fluorescent lights & lack of hygiene & orange flavoured candies/sodas/anything that’s not an actual orange & deep dark waters he can’t see the contents of & mistreatment of animals & having assumptions made about him & mathematics & onions & football .

LIKES. the scent and sound of rain & physical touch & candles , lighters , and controlled flames in general & the smell of cedar , pine , and the forest & music and playing musical instruments & italian food & raving about attractive people with others; intoxication is a bonus & leather; wearing it and the smell of it & glasses clinking together & late night talks & stargazing & drawing / sketching & records and record players & animals & 'stealing’ and wearing the clothes of people he’s close with & running & card games & dancing and singing & creating something out of nothing & getting the last word .

HOBBIES. drawing & singing and playing instruments & exploring / learning as many places as they can like the back of their hand & people watching & drinking and bar hopping & seeking pleasure and adventure wherever he can find it & collecting random things he enjoys / likes .

WEAKNESSES. he’s standoffish until he knows he can trust a person and can come off rude or aloof & the inability to let go of most grudges & his tendency to follow his desires and his heart before logic or his mind & impulsivity when emotional .

STRENGTHS. independence and ability to function and thrive alone (even if he would prefer to have company it is not mandatory) & ability to be resourceful and adapt to new situations quickly & handles time-sensitive situations well due to his tendency to act quick and think later & stubbornness to stick to a task and see it through & quick thinking & agility and speed of inhuman proportions (thanks to his less than human side) .

HABITS. clicking his teeth together repeatedly when annoyed & flexing fingers & playing with his hair in absentminded / lazy moments & silently staring at someone when he’s done with a conversation until they catch the hint and stop talking & if there’s music playing within earshot he always ends up swaying to the beat & will often make less than human sounds (growls, etc.) when angry if he doesn’t catch himself .

EDUCATION. average student throughout elementary , middle & high school . graduated with an equally average gpa of 3.0 , & decided against college, choosing to seek education in less typical places . fed up with his family and much of the treatment of his peers, he began to learn magic from a witch he met on one of his regular trips to wander the ghost river triangle and explore & learnt magic and about the more mystical parts of purgatory - ultimately becoming a skinwalker via the witch’s guidance and training .

[ iii. APPEARANCE ]

FACECLAIM. booboo stewart .

HEIGHT. 5 ' 8 " , though when able to he wears combat boots that add a few inches to his height .

EYES. a very keen and observant hazel when he’s in human form . when shifting , eye colour can range from yellow to red to green to blue depending on many factors - location , how far he shifts , etc . always alert and bright unless intoxicated or in very rough shape emotion-wise . often wishes they were green or grey and has considered wearing contacts to change his eyes (human-wise) to those colours.

EYEBROWS. defined arch but not so much so that it’s dramatic . not too thin and not too bushy , and naturally neat - he rarely has to tend to them and usually only does so to shave a tiny slit or two through them as a stylistic choice .

HAIR. long and dark ; sleek with an ever so slight wave to it . typically worn either down or in a loose ponytail , occasionally sections are braided . falls just a few inches above his ribcage . every so often he’ll dye streaks into his hair but has never dyed his whole head .

SCARS. many . he has a variety of smaller scars from a rowdy childhood; a few faint ones on his hands and arms from scratches borne of cats and dogs . the typical scars that come from falling off bicycles or off swings ; scraped knees and cuts on chins . his forearms especially are covered in scars he prefers not to speak of . there’s a scar on his forehead from a fight with his cousin as well as a few long scars on his back .

DRESSING STYLE. it varies depending upon mood and whatever job he has at the time . especially fond of punk / alternative styles , likes leather , and enjoys the comfort of loose and flowing garments. whatever style he happens to choose at any given time , he wears well and somehow always manages to draw attention - whether from the jewelry he accessorises with (varieties of bracelets and cuffs , rings , pendants with gems , etc.)

LIPS. naturally full , scar at the right corner of his lip , occasionally sore or split when he goes through anxious phases and tends to chew at his lips .

SKIN. smooth , tanned . he doesn’t have much body hair , a fact that doesn’t tend to bother him much. he rarely engages in a skincare routine and much like his eyebrows generally stays neat and well-kempt without much effort . does not wear much makeup but enjoys eyeliner from time to time . if not for his skin tone, the dark circles beneath his eyes would be much more visible .

CHEEKS. defined cheekbones , not easily flushed . sports the occasional scars due to nervous picking when he was younger.

[ iv. ABILITIES ]

LANGUAGES SPOKEN. english [ fluent ] , hopi [ conversational & spellwork language ] , spanish [ conversational ] .

THREAT LEVEL. mediocre to high .

WEAPONS. fairly efficient in his understanding of magic and can easily hold his own with either combative or defensive magic , but prefers when possible to rely on his own physical skills ; is proficient in hand to hand combat thanks to the speed , agility , and strength bequeathed upon him by his skinwalker nature . very skilled in knifeplay , whether throwing or up close . has little to no practise with firearms as of 1x01 .

MAGIC. magic learnt by his mentor was primarily elemental based and neutral in that it could easily be manipulated for defensive or offensive ; he was never extremely proficient and left before he could complete his training so he is still learning his limits and the heights he can reach , and wants to branch out . as for the magical abilities granted by his status as skinwalker - he is able to shapeshift , which saps him of certain levels of energy that depend upon what creature he takes the shape of . he is also granted higher than average speed, agility, and strength because of this which he keeps with him even when not shifting.

[ v. DETAILS ]

➣➣ he was born in georgia originally to a loving but struggling mother and father - his mother was hopi and his father was creek, and while both parents had originally lived on their own respective reservations, they had met one another by chance during a trip and fallen in love, eventually deciding to seek out their own home outside of the reservations. his parents loved him but struggled financially; eventually his mother’s sister offered to take him in. as that was the better option rather than the three of them becoming homeless, crow’s parents sent him to live with his aunt in arizona on the rez. while they stayed in touch, his parents needed to stay in georgia, and as such he only would see them on the occasional holiday.

➣➣ while his aunt meant well, his cousins were another story. living with his aunt and uncle would have been fine had it not been for their two children; a son and daughter who constantly bullied him behind their backs for not being pure hopi as they were, often harassing him about being a ‘halfbreed’. a quiet boy at heart to boot, he faced bullying in school as well all the way through high school. his cousins, in tenth grade, snooped in his room and found his journal - which they used to out him as pansexual to the school.

➣➣ the moment he graduated, he spent as much time off the rez as possible, avoiding his cousins. on one of his frequent trips to simply explore nearby cities and towns, he found himself in purgatory. one drunken night led to following a mysterious woman into the woods. as it turned out, she was a witch. intrigued and excited at the idea of learning magic and having a way to defend himself, he quickly took her up on her offer to teach him. after a few months, she let him in on her secret - she was a skinwalker.

➣➣ she talked up how powerful she was because of it, and how no one would ever hurt her again. the more he heard about it, the more he wanted it. still unhealed from the way he was treated growing up and too caught up in the concept of never having to be beneath someone ever again, he agreed to let her hold the ceremony that would make him one as well without thinking of the consequences. when she told him that the final task he needed was to kill a family member... he almost faltered but agreed and went back to the rez.

➣➣ he almost didn’t do it. it was night when he returned, and he could see his male cousin drinking on the porch. the concept of killing someone - even someone like his cousin who had treated him so poorly - was daunting. he might have changed his mind had his cousin not seen him arriving and was immediately being malicious; using homophobic slurs and accusing crow of having run off with a lover, talking about how disgraceful it was. and it all was a blur from there.

➣➣ bringing back a lock of his cousin’s hair to the witch, she finished the rituals and he became the creature she had promised - powerful but at what cost? still wrought with guilt despite having made the ultimate choice, crow left the forests on the outskirts of purgatory where he had been training and into the ghost river triangle itself, unable to go home after what he did and unable to stomach facing the witch. living out of his truck, he went from odd job to odd job, eventually landing a stable job as a cashier at a grocery store. around this time he chose to begin going by the name crow - both to distance himself from his past, and because if someone were to want to control or destroy him now as a skinwalker, they could do so if they knew his true, personal name. as such, a nickname seemed the safest bet.

➣➣ fastforward to present day (1x01). after a few years of cashiering and attempting to rent rooms and apartments without success, as well as a stint playing guitar for an up and coming rock band, crow landed a job as a bartender at one of the local bars and instead of attempting to rent rooms or apartments, ended up moving into the trailer park. it was sketchy to say the least, but he couldn’t afford anything fancy and clearly didn’t handle having roommates well. a trailer seemed like the next best thing, outside of living in the woods or in his truck. his tendency to mind his own business and expect that of others meant that he mingled with normal purgatory residents and the revenants equally, pursuing his hedonistic nature as he pleased. which was all well and good, until things began to get... a lot more chaotic due to a curse and an heir he had originally had no knowledge of.

[ MORE TO COME THROUGHOUT CHARACTERIZATION DEVELOPMENT ]

#temporary biography tag

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