#look I am very cis and don’t know the other guy but it is easily techno to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

absentcaryatid · 2 years ago

Text

Going to start with one of the reasons I love this story so much. It feels very real in a lot of ways, the situations, responses, and humor that makes the difficult parts easier to bear.

He presses down extra hard on your shoulder and you grunt, knowing it was entirely on purpose. “Says you, tough guy. You’re a little menace.”

“Who you calling little? First freckles, now you – you guys sure do like pulling the height card for a bunch of garden gnomes. Glad to have someone shorter than you for a change? Congrats, he’s not even a cis man.”

“What do you identify as, by the way? Do you consider yourself a man, or…?” Chan asks genuinely, once again dodging your attempts at provocation. He’s getting quite good at this, and that bothers you, because provoking him was the entire fun of him, but you suppose now is too nice of a moment to really push it.

“Man enough. Man sometimes. On Tuesdays, maybe. On Wednesdays I’m just a gendery enigma.”

He chuckles. “What about Thursdays?”

“Hmm. Guy, but in the same way you call an animal friend you find on the street a little guy, y’know? Just a dude.”

Gender can be complicated like that sometimes, and to get that in a fanfic is what keeps me coming back for these kinds of stories.

On to other great things I get out of What Goes on in Neverland. Unintentional personal growth through fanfic! Mischief, your ongoing project to help me grasp the concept of an unreliable narrator is working. (I think. Going to laugh when I look at the educational cheat sheet version of the story if I got this all wrong. I'm determined to learn this!) I don't trust strangers in person, but somehow characters other than Pinocchio and his giveaway nose slip right past me. You finally have me starting to see this reader project his assumptions on everybody interacting with him. This time it starts with Chan.

you are left with nothing but the searing humiliation at how easily you played into his hands.

Sure there is some adversarial behavior going on, but to seemingly miss that Chan genuinely can be attracted to him has me sad for our reader. It really speaks to his history and having to fight for his place in the world. We know he can accept unconditional love from his bandmates, so I am excited to see him broaden that group of trusted people over the course of the story. You really make me care about him, and want him to have a good (fictional) life. Pretty sure so much of you in this character strongly influences that.

“Tch, you’re one to talk,” he scoffs, pressing harder with his massage, but not too hard, so it’s welcomed. “Besides, I wasn’t teasing. You’re tough.”

Again I am sorrowful for the prior life experience that protected him at some point, but now leaves the reader unable to accept gentleness without suspicion. That theme continued until the lines that left my heart broken:

“You think people need a hard-earned reason to be nice to you?” Chan remarks back at you, and it shocks something deep inside you with an ice-cold chill. Yes? Maybe? That would sound stupid if you say it out loud. Would it? It makes so much sense to you, though. People can be nice without reason sometimes, but not to people who don’t deserve it.

Not to people like you.

Oh. That is gutting. And then the commentary about all the hurts and slights he has experienced, meanwhile, we don't know what Chan has been through himself. For all we know, his history could be similar and yet his makeup is set to kindness anyway. But his makeup is honest. I really appreciated the way he did not condone Changbin's STI taunt from a previous chapter.

And then we get back to the lighter stuff, our beloved reader arriving home to an askew Han's exit and the show of hands being limited to Kevin. I would love to see a live action version of that scene! And then to get our reader's lack of self-awareness watching Eric's behavior after trying the same with Chan.

You feel sorry for what he is going through, you really do, but that doesn’t mean you are going to let him walk all over you and lash out like that.

Going to be very interesting to see how the characters grow as the story goes on. I keep saying I am rooting for them, because I am. Can't remember if we have been promised happiness for this cast, but I hope that happens after a lot more episodes to savor.

Loved the reference to a hot cocoa moment with Mingi. I like that you can drop in a reference without having to give us the scene and still give so much meaning to that paragraph.

Mischief! I'm laughing again!

Trust Jung Wooyoung to milk rich old men for all they’re worth, but still not consider that microwaving rice three times would make it into a solid brick. The duality of man.

I gotta know if the rice thing is real.

what goes on in neverland. ⇝ aftercare, aftershocks, and the aftermath

word count: 8.9k

pairings: transmasc!reader x Everyone, everyone x everyone (its literally too convoluted for me to try type them out here anymore just see the masterlist for full pairings LOL)

genre: e2l, f2l, smut, fluff and lots of assorted shenanigans. hijinks, if you will

au: battle of the bands!au but make it gay and horny

warnings: nothing really? discussions of top surgery scars and gender identity?

a/n: noticed a lot of chan likers after the last chapter... yall gonna love this one :)

tags: @honeybyunnies @syunderful @absentcaryatid @mingirn (lmk if you want to be added/removed!)

prev | masterlist | next

Waking up in the bed of your biggest competitive rival is definitely, to say the least, sobering.

You’re not surprised to find the bed empty next to you, but you are more surprised to find yourself still there. Staying the night was never on the agenda, but neither was really submitting to him, so you suppose compromises were made. The memories flood you with the uncomfortable kind of heat now that the lustful haze has faded, and you are left with nothing but the searing humiliation at how easily you played into his hands.

Who really won there? You really thought you had him for a moment back there, pressed against the wall and shutting you up in the exact way you wanted him to. It was all going so damn well. He seemed so close to breaking then, you saw his subtle blush and the hitches in his breath, the way he leaned into your touch rather than away from it, the way he had to kiss you to shut you up because he knew you were right. He was enjoying you playing with him, he was excited at the prospect of you having a go at him, what fucking happened to all of that?

Was that an act? Letting you have your moment so it can be even more satisfying when he gets to shut it down? Did he find you cute then, too? Or was it that goddamn golden boy, did he want to seem nicer in front of him still? Did he not want poor little freckles to see him be mean?

Illuminated by only the dim coloured light atop Chan’s bed – a warm yellow-orange, now – you wince as you roll over and check the time. 1:47am, your phone says, which isn’t that long after you would’ve finished, considering the time when you arrived there already. God, he really did take his time with edging you – but before you could wonder where exactly he went, he comes back in with a bottle of something in hand and all his make-up washed off.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

“Were you about to do something to me while I was–?!“

“Shh,” he whispers, putting a finger to his lips, “You’ll wake up the rachas if you start yelling. They’re deep sleepers, but not that deep.”

He seems far too calm for someone who could have been caught doing something dastardly or nefarious, so your mouth falls shut, and he opens the bottle and pours some oil on his fingers. You notice the label on the bottle then, soothing massage oil – and after warming it up in his palms, he gestures for you to turn over.

“What?”

“Turn around. On your stomach if you want, but you can also stay sitting up.”

“Why?”

He snorts, nodding at your wrists. “You were bound for a long time. Are you not sore?”

When he says it out loud, you are no longer able to ignore the aching pain in your shoulders, wrists, and your back as well, from being stuck in such a position for so long. While you’re no stranger to aches and pains, whether it be for BDSM related reasons or pole dancing, it definitely doesn’t make sleep any easier, and probably what woke you up.

“Well, now that you mention it…”

“Come on then. Turn around.” His voice doesn’t carry any sternness, nor does it even hold much impatience, simply just having a task he plans on accomplishing and getting straight to the point. You comply.

His hands on you are gentle, but firm, pressing down at the tightness in your back with enough pressure to make you moan softly, but he doesn’t so much as make a snarky comment about it. He’s surprisingly silent as he works, focused on the task at hand, and you wouldn’t mind the change of pace if not for how hyperaware it makes you of every sound you make.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs softly, “you don’t need to hold back that much. The walls are thick enough.”

“It’s not the rachas I’m worried about,” you mutter, uncharacteristically self-conscious despite not even facing him, but you can’t deny his massage feels good. When his skilled ministrations slow down to a halt, you cast a glance at him over your shoulder.

He’s smiling at you.

“What, worried ‘bout little ol’ me?”

You whip back around with such ferocity your neck audibly cracks. “Asshole.”

He chuckles lightly, then gets back to massaging your shoulders, a little gentler this time. “I’m not big enough of an asshole to tease you during aftercare, tough guy. You can relax.”

Aftercare? It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, having done similar acts of aftercare yourself and having received it more times than you can count, but something about receiving it from Chan of all people is puzzling. Last time you checked, you were having hate sex. Not that you hate him, really, that would be a pretty strong sentiment you currently only really hold for Felix by merit of him being Eric’s flaky ex-boyfriend, but you don’t exactly like him, either. Well, you like pissing him off, and you like competing with him, and you like getting reactions out of him, and maybe you like his artistry as well, but that’s about as far as it goes.

Oh, and you like his body, too, that’s a big one. The way his hands work the tension out of your shoulders is positively divine. Suppose he’s a pretty face, too. All up until he opens that big mouth of his.

“You say that, then you teasingly call me tough guy again. All men do is lie, huh?”

“Tch, you’re one to talk,” he scoffs, pressing harder with his massage, but not too hard, so it’s welcomed. “Besides, I wasn’t teasing. You’re tough.”

You wait for him to elaborate on that, but after a long moment of silence staring at the figurines on his headboard and the flickering triangular lights above it, you realise that was where his comment ended.

“…Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” he hums simply, definitively, then shifts you on the bed to turn back around and face him again so he can take your wrists and begin massaging the oil into them too. He doesn’t even so much as spare your face a glance, but it’s not avoidant. It’s focused, and just a little bit tired, too, you realise, noticing the crease in his brow.

You frown. Something about the silence feels so damn intimate – even more so than the actions itself, which you suppose are just him going on automatic after dominating someone. After all, giving aftercare is often the aftercare in itself for dominants, too, so maybe he’s doing this for himself as well.

He pauses to look up at you. “Got something on my face?”

As intimate as the silence felt, getting caught staring is far, far worse.

“Yeah,” you snort, throwing up snark as a reflex, “Ugly.”

It’s a bit harsh, you think, and the way he cocks his head makes you think he’s disguising a wince, but he looks back down at your wrists as he continues to massage them anyway.

“You wouldn’t be in my bed right now if you really thought I was ugly.”

He’s right.

“You’re right,” you echo, not really wanting that to be the hill you die on anyway when you both know its not true. That isn’t a good look on you, either. “It was a joke. I don’t sleep with ugly guys.”

“I know.”

He wraps up and pulls away, and you find yourself missing his touch as soon as it leaves you. Which is odd, because once again, you don’t even particularly like him, nor were you even expecting aftercare, and he’s already doing more for you than you would’ve bothered doing for him.

Or that you did for Felix.

The silence stretches on, and that thought grows louder. Is that what this is? Considering how Lino obviously told Felix what you messaged him, you wouldn’t be surprised if Felix told everyone else about your night at the Prism in excruciating detail, too. Based on how Chan acted with you tonight, it seemed far too deliberate for that to not have been the case. The look he gave Eric while kissing up on your neck? Hell, he had to have seen that. That’s right, he was there, he must have seen it and–

“Feeling a bit better? Want me to massage anywhere some more?”

His face is as open as you’ve ever seen it, expecting to hear a genuine response. There’s no more attitude, no more competition, no more sexual tension – despite the fact that you’re both still half naked, you in only the unbuttoned shirt you didn’t take off before he bound your wrists, and him still gloriously shirtless, just sitting in his underwear. He looks a lot less intimidating without his make-up on anymore, either, the softness of his features really bleeding through, and without such a cocky expression either, he looks like a whole different person.

The lingering soreness is more of the pleasant kind, now that he’s worked his magic, but you nod anyway. Just so you don’t have to look at him again. You shift back around. “My back’s still pretty sore, actually.”

You feel the bed shift behind you as he shuffles onto his knees, and presses a hand between your shoulder blades to push you down, and you lie onto your stomach without a word.

“Does that hurt?”

“What?” He already lifted his hand, he can’t possibly think he shoved you too hard. Is your back supposed to hurt while lying on your stomach after being bound like that? “Um, yeah. Kinda.”

“Your scar, I mean,” he says plainly, blinking at you dumbly when you peer over your shoulder again to look at him. “I mean I know it’s healed, at least, it looks healed enough, but still, pressure on such a large wound…”

“Oh, that- that’s fine,” you reassure him, plopping your head back down on the mattress and letting your eyes fall shut. “Bed’s soft. Didn’t even think about it.”

“Alright.” He throws a leg over you to straddle your hips, this time massaging your lower back as well, and while you asked him to continue mostly just because it felt nice, you now realise how much tension you had down there, too. “Can I ask how you got it?”

“My scar?”

“Yeah. I mean, I know what top surgery scars look like, but that looks a bit more violent. Makes me wonder if it was something else.”

“Ah.” You fall quiet, not really sure what to say. That you asked for it to be that way? Doesn’t really sound all that impressive when you put it like that. He’d probably ask why, too, and you aren’t sure how you would explain that to him, either.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he says, stopping only to crack his knuckles and pour more massage oil onto his palms before resuming the massage, “Was just curious.”

“You said it was pretty,” you breathe out, not daring to open your eyes and look at him. “Guess you’re not bad at dirty talk, huh. Suppose it is pretty violent looking in reality. I like it that way, though.”

He pauses – his words, not his hands – for a short beat before responding. “Pretty and violent aren’t mutually exclusive, you know. There can be beauty in violence, sometimes.”

“Yeah?” you huff. “Sounds like something a pretty violent person would say.”

He presses down extra hard on your shoulder and you grunt, knowing it was entirely on purpose. “Says you, tough guy. You’re a little menace.”

“What do you identify as, by the way? Do you consider yourself a man, or...?” Chan asks genuinely, once again dodging your attempts at provocation. He’s getting quite good at this, and that bothers you, because provoking him was the entire fun of him, but you suppose now is too nice of a moment to really push it.

“Man enough. Man sometimes. On Tuesdays, maybe. On Wednesdays I’m just a gendery enigma.”

He chuckles. “What about Thursdays?”

“Hmm. Guy, but in the same way you call an animal friend you find on the street a little guy, y’know? Just a dude.”

His signature giggles are back, and you find yourself smiling and cracking your eyes back open before you even realise it, hazy. You can’t remember the last time you felt this relaxed since the whole competition started.

“And on Fridays?”

You yawn loudly, letting your eyes flutter shut again as sleep threatens to tug away at you once again, but you know you won’t fall properly asleep while he’s still touching you. “Gender on Fridays… that’s between me and God.”

He laughs properly at that, catching himself quickly and keeping it quiet as to not disturb his roommates, but you feel an oddly swelling sense of pride at being able to make him laugh like that. Maybe he won this game of wits you played in bed, but he can’t deny you’re at least funny.

“Alright, I’m getting tired,” he yawns as well, rolling off you and flopping back onto the bed next to you. It’s only then when you notice the bright red lines adorning his back, and gasp at the sight.

“Holy shit, Chan, your back.”

“Yeah?” He looks over his shoulder at you with a simultaneously sheepish and smug grin. “Suppose you didn’t get a good view before, huh?”

“No, I’m not— okay, I am appreciating the view, but dude, I basically mauled your back, does that not sting?”

He wrinkles his nose, twisting his torso this way and that experimentally. “A bit. It’s not bad, though.”

After he took care of you so gently, you find yourself wanting to take care of him at least just a little – just to even the playing field, so he can’t chastise you for not knowing safe kink practices, or otherwise flip it on you somehow. At least, that’s what you tell yourself when you get up and ask him if he has any ointment for it.

“Ointment?”

“Yeah, like an antibiotic cream, or something. I broke skin, Chan. There’s a bit of blood. The least you should do is get it cleaned so it doesn’t get infected, especially if you’re gonna sleep without a shirt.”

He yawns again, stretching out and then wincing slightly, no doubt at the fresh scars adorning his back now. “Get it cleaned, huh? I don’t suppose you’ll do it for me?”

You bite at the inside of your cheek. “Is this a test?”

“A test? No, it’s a question. Do I have to get up and do it myself or can I stay here?”

“...Where’s the ointment? Or should I just use water?”

“Bathroom’s around the left corner, in the cabinet behind the mirror.”

It’s exactly where he said it was, so you return with a damp cloth and ointment in hand, and seat yourself behind him on the bed. This is certainly not your first time tending to your own scratch marks – or claw marks, as Kevin likes to call them, joking that the band are your scratching posts – so you fall into the process rather quickly. A gentle wipe-down before applying the cream, that’s all it is, you could do it in your sleep.

Your heart is beating out of your chest like it’s about to erupt.

You know why. It’s not a Chan thing, you know that for sure – it’s the same when taking care of your bandmates, too, as there is something so sacred about the whole process that’s almost tender. It’s the vulnerability of it all, and you’ve since gotten more adjusted to it with the others, but without any trust built between you and Chan, it feels significantly more potent than usual. Risky, almost.

Maybe it is a Chan thing.

Silence drags on and neither you nor Chan do anything about it. Out of tiredness, probably. You wouldn’t call it entirely comfortable silence, though; for some reason, tending to him feels even more vulnerable than him giving you the massage. You suppose you can’t really keep pretending like you hate him while you’re treating the wounds on his back that you inflicted, and you’re not sure what this means, anymore. You don’t know what any of this means, or how you’re supposed to be feeling about this.

“There,” you finish, closing the cap on the cream shut. “All done.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, shifting around on the bed to get a better look at you, and you find yourself unable to hold his gaze. He shrugs and simply flops down onto the bed. “’Think I’m gonna go sleep now… oh wait, did you want like, undies or something–“

You snort. Undies. “You’re not kicking me out?”

He tilts his head up just enough to drowsily stare at you in confusion. “No? Not when you look like you’re about to melt right into my mattress. But hey, if you wanna uber home or something, go for it. I’m not keeping you here.”

He rolls over, slipping under the blankets and curling himself around a large pillow. Cute, you think. He looks even smaller like this. You wonder how you must look for him to make such a comment, how much of the number he did on you is visible, but you know you won’t get any sleep tonight if you stop to check in the mirror now.

“Yeah, I’ll take you up on the undies.”

“Aight.” He yawns again, stretches, clearly falling asleep already as he grabs you a spare pair of boxer briefs and tosses them at you as he slides back into bed. Once your shirt is on the floor and you are under the blankets with him, you find yourself subconsciously gravitating towards his side of the bed for warmth, to which he responds by turning over and draping himself over you instead of the pillow. It reminds you so much of sleeping with Sunwoo, Eric or Mingi that you find yourself lulled right back to sleep at a record speed.

If waking up in the bed of your rival was sobering, waking up in the arms of your rival is like a bucket of cold water to the face.

What is worse is that it takes you far too long to realise it, at first. Sleeping with strong arms around you is your norm, so you don’t really question it as your sleep-fogged brain slowly starts turning its gears, and you practically jolt when you pull your head back and realise you’re snuggled up to the one and only Bang Chan and pointedly not one of your bandmates.

“You’re not Sunwoo,” you blubber out, sliding away from him on the bed, and Chan just drearily groans and rolls over, pulling your half of the blanket with him.

“No. M’not.”

He stays still there, so you suppose this is your cue to get out, make your walk of shame, et cetera. Not that it was ever really a shameful walk for you, it being more like a walk in pride at the accomplishment of the notches in your belt, but Chan being who he is and his roommates being who they are make you finally understand why they called it the walk of shame in the first place.

“Where y’goin?” he mumbles, peeking out at you over his blanket as you start picking your clothes back up and getting dressed – still in his underwear with yours discarded on the floor somewhere, but at this point you consider leaving it behind as a prize, just so you can get out of there quicker.

“Where do you think? Home. Unless you’re up for round two? I’m warning you, I won’t go easy on you this time.”

Chan laughs out loud, wide and bright and fucking humiliating. You threatened him and he’s laughing at you. You scramble to get your things quicker. You need to leave, and you need to leave now, before you can dig your own grave even deeper.

“Have brekkie before you leave, at least!”

You pause to gawk at him, curly hair now free from its chemical restraints and sticking out in every which direction, his softer face illuminated by the morning sun. Who is this man?

“Breakfast? Seriously?”

He stares back at you like you are the one out of your mind.

“Yes? Do you not usually have breakfast? It’s the most important meal of the day, you know.”

“I pissed you off, tossed you around, let you bring me home and fuck my brains out, and now you’re making me breakfast? Chan, do you like me or something?” you guffaw, the only reasonable conclusion you can come up with using the limited brainpower you have access to before noon. Seriously, who the fuck does mornings these days? It was either that, or he’s trying to kill you with kindness and make you feel bad. Ha. Like he could ever.

Chan furrows his brow, recoiling in mild disgust and confusion. “No? God, is that what you think? I’m literally just being a good host. You stayed the night, I had my way with you, now I take care of you. It’s not rocket science, y’know.”

It’s not rocket science, he says, but trying to make sense of him is looking more and more like a complicated algebra equation you failed in math before dropping out. Why does he feel the need to take care of you? You’re not his responsibility. He doesn’t owe you anything. You were mean to him on purpose and he knows it, so he might as well have tossed you out on the curb as soon as he got off. Maybe called you an Uber if he wanted to be a gentleman. But this?

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? I just said why! Have you never had someone be nice to you before, or something?”

“Wh– of course I’ve had people be nice to me before, I’m not that pathetic,” you scoff, folding your arms. “Just not after I’ve gone out of my way to aggravate them on purpose.”

Chan just snorts. “Maybe you should stop aggravating me on purpose, then.”

“So that’s what this is!” The final piece of the puzzle clicks into place, and you stare him down intently – or maybe that’s just the morning glare in your eyes. “You’re trying to kill me with kindness, aren’t you? Think being a good host will make me go easy on you? Smart, but I have less of a conscience than you seem to think I do–“

“God, a man can dream, I guess! No,” he sighs your name in the most exasperated tone you’ve ever heard from him, “this isn’t some evil plan to take you down as a competitor, I’m literally just being nice. Because I like being nice to people. Is that really so hard to believe?”

“You don’t have a reason to be nice to me. I sure as hell ain’t nice to you! Every time I think you’ve grown some backbone you–“

“Oh please, that is not what you were saying last night,” he interrupts, finally starting to lose his cool. Good. You hate fighting him when he’s so clear-headed. “You wanna be so tough and scary so bad, but you insisted on cleaning my wounds before bed–“

“Oh my god, you are in love with me, aren’t you?”

Whether you actually think Chan harbours any sort of romantic feelings for you leans heavy towards no, but the accusation is one you can think of very few people who wouldn’t get a rise out of. Not to mention how funny it is to see them flounder to prove themselves just for you to twist everything they say against them.

“In love with you? Are you seriously that self-obsessed? No, no– I’m not falling for that, you know I’m already–“ he cuts himself off this time, realising the hole he just dug, but it’s too late.

“So you are in love with Felix, you admit it!” you cackle victoriously, clapping like a seal. “You’re right, we already knew, but I sure wonder if Felix does. What was his Instagram tag again? Lix something?”

“Sure, go ahead and tell him, like he’d believe you,” Chan huffs, “You’re not subtle either, tough guy! ‘You’re not Sunwoo!’ Hm, I wonder why you’re thinking about waking up in his arms.”

“We sleep together, genius,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes, “the entire band, we all sleep together, I did not think any of us were subtle about that.”

“I know that, but why is it Sunwoo’s name specifically you think of first thing in the morning, huh?”

Fuck. Why is it Sunwoo? As soon as you ask yourself that, your recent conversations flash through your mind, and you sure as hell are not about to let Chan of all people know about that.

“Because your arms felt like his, it’s not that deep!”

“I don’t mean this in a body-shaming way, but his arms are like half the size of mine. I’m not exactly convinced.”

“Then don’t be! I have nothing to prove to you.”

“You really don’t! So why do you keep acting like you do have something to prove to me every time we meet?”

His words slice through you like a hot knife through butter, and it takes a second too long to come up with a response. He’s right. You fucking hate when he’s right, and you would sooner edit a Wikipedia article to win an argument against someone when you’re in the wrong than admit it to him.

He sighs. “I don’t get why you have such a raging hate boner towards us. I know Eric has beef with Felix and we’re neck and neck in the Battle of the Bands, and you get your kicks out of provoking people, but you seem to think that I – or the other guys too, for that matter – would act against you if you slipped up enough to give us a chance to. But we’re not like that.”

We’re not like you, is the unspoken message there, but you hear it loud and clear. “Why wouldn’t you? Felix still has something to prove, that much I can tell for certain. Lino was quick to spill my secrets as soon as he had them. Hell, Changbin threw me over a table for something entirely consensual and even went as far as to slut-shame all of us. Like, riddled with diseases? Really? You’re no better than we are just because we actually own up to being assholes, you just lack the self awareness.”

Chan tilts a brow up at you, then it furrows into a puzzled expression. “This is what I mean about you bringing out the worst in people. Lino went for it because he knew you’d definitely do the same, and Changbin... he doesn’t start fights as often as you’d think he does based off of your experiences with him. They’re usually justified. Though I will admit the slut-shaming wasn’t, he was just trying to get some sort of edge over you since he didn’t know you knew about Hyunjin’s career. He’s actually done sex work in the past too, got his fair share of STI’s, it’s not an insult that comes from a place of actual prejudice.”

“Oh, so its all blatant hypocrisy then! Wow, that’s sooo much better, you guys are such morally-correct heroes.”

He rolls his eyes so hard you think he got a glimpse of his brain, then pinches the bridge of his nose in barely concealed frustration. “Okay, yes, sure, he’s a hypocrite! I’ll admit to that! But you’ve had something to prove since before any of that happened, so I’m just wondering why exactly you expected us – why you expected me – to be some sort of villain from the get-go! Why do you want me to be the bad guy so bad when I’m just trying to be nice to you and make you some goddamn breakfast?!”

You see he has reached his wits end, and it’s no longer a noble attempt to defend his team but a cry for help to save himself. You knew your verbal spars had more behind them than he tries to act, but now he can’t pretend like he’s their infallible shield anymore. Nor can he pretend his little posse are all virtuous saints. In a way, you finally won, you made him crack.

So why does it feel so much like losing?

“Because I just don’t get why you don’t,” you confess in an aggravated sigh, “Other people would! I’d argue that you should, given it all! It feels— it feels wrong to have you just, clean me up and make me breakfast when we’re not even friends! We don’t even like each other! Like, this goes above and beyond even for just a Tinder hookup!”

Chan barks out a dry laugh. “It’s like you really can’t comprehend the concept of someone being nice to you. Have you never had someone properly take care of you before?”

“I have! My band take care of me better than I could even ask for. But that’s the difference, they’re mine. They’re my band, I mean, we have a bond even deeper than family, we take care of each other because we love each other. What reason do you have to take care of me of all people? I haven’t given you a single reason to and yet, you do anyway.”

Not to people like you.

“I... I’m not saying people can only be nice to people once they’ve done something to earn it, I just mean that people aren’t usually nice to people who have given them a reason – or in my case, multiple reasons – not to be. If someone hurts the people I love, I’m not making them breakfast, I’m kicking them to the curb when I’m done.”

“I know,” Chan deadpans, no doubt thinking about Felix too. “That’s where we differ then, I guess. I don’t filter who I’m nice to based off of some invisible tally of who deserves it or who doesn’t. I choose to be kind because it’s how I want to be, not because it’s what someone does or doesn’t deserve. I’d like to say that all people deserve kindness, but even I cave and deliberately deny people of that sometimes. I’m only human, yeah? We all are. Even you. So I’m not sure why you’ve convinced yourself you’re so unworthy of my kindness that you lash out at me for it. Have you been wronged that much?”

He says it so casually and gets up to wash his face in the connected bathroom like he didn’t just cover you in paper cuts then drop you in a pool of lemonade and salt. Have you been wronged that much? Hell, have you been wronged by that many? You think back to your family, then your former friends, their friends, your peers. You think about your band, all runaways or renegades from similar surroundings, and the safety you found in them being like-minded individuals. How you all met because you were all so scorned taking the road not taken, so driven yet so lost.

Society has a way of chewing you up and spitting you back out into more pieces than you started off in, then expecting you to pick them up and glue them back together yourself, as if you are the one who did it. That’s just how life is; there is no childhood without hardship, no adult without trauma, despite the best efforts of many and the lack of effort of many more. Everyone has their own demons to fight, all while fighting for their lives in the blender that is late-stage capitalism and man-made prejudice.

You know all this. Yet when Chan asks, ‘Have you been wronged that much?’ Part of you thinks that all of that is bullshit and somehow you and your band have ended up being through hell and back for no other damn reason than drawing the short straw in the hand dealt to the rest of the world.

“I don’t... I...”

You struggle to find words for the emotions you are feeling – rage, grief, sadness, bitterness, envy, but there’s something else in the muddled pit of them all that doesn’t quite fit with the others. Hope, maybe? That’s a dangerous emotion, but that’s rarely stopped you before. You wouldn’t be where you are today without it. Fear? Closer, but what for? Relief? At what?

Chan walks back out of the bathroom with a hand towel around his neck, then right past you towards the kitchen.

“Come on. I’m making pancakes.”

Feeling like you don’t have much of a choice not to – or a reason not to, for that matter – you follow him, plopping yourself wordlessly down on a stool on the outer side of the counter.

He doesn’t say more as he takes out the ingredients and gets to work, a simple recipe but nonetheless homemade compared to the pre-made pancake mixes you use back home. You take the chance to observe your surroundings, spacious yet rather cluttered with the various belongings of the multiple men in the household, and that is when you remember you two are not the only occupants currently home.

“Are the others still asleep?” you ask, and he just shrugs while pouring batter onto a fry pan.

“Probably. We’re not usually up before noon, but I’ll make some for them to have for lunch.”

“Did I wake you, then?”

“Yeah. But it’s fine. I got more sleep last night than usual, honestly.”

It will never not be jarring to you, the difference in the kind of conversations you have with Chan. You’re either arguing with blades drawn, or you’re laid completely bare with nothing but an emergency razor blade hidden under a band-aid on you, conversing like you actually know each other. Like there’s any sort of closeness or trust between you. You don’t know if that is just because you’re more used to fighting him than not, or because something about Chan with his guard down makes you feel even more exposed than ever, or if it’s the things he’s done and said in the past twelve or so hours that changed the air between you. There’s discomfort in how comfortable it is, a juxtaposition you have no idea how you got to.

“Don’t get much sleep, huh?”

He nods, scarred back still facing you as he cooks. “Not usually. I tend to stay up late until I’m exhausted enough to maybe catch some sleep when I finally go to bed, then try to sleep on and off until it gets too hot at noon and I just give up. Well, not all the time, I do get uninterrupted sleep some nights, but the staying up super late and getting up late is pretty consistent. So yesterday I went to bed kinda early.”

“2am kinda early, huh?” you snort, and he chuckles.

“Yeah. Earlier than five, at least.”

The relatively comfortable silence from last night returns, and you find you don’t hate it as much this time. It’s still rather foreign, but not as deeply unsettling as it was before, so you are content to just take in the view of his half-naked form cooking a gigantic stack of pancakes until he finally plates and serves.

“Eat up, then.”

You do.

You have been dreading returning home since the moment Eric threw his little fit last night, so you are already bracing yourself for metaphorical impact – the impact being rancid vibes more than anything else – from the very moment you open the front door to your apartment.

What you find instead, is a messy-haired Han with the buttons on his shirt done up one buttonhole too low, skewing the whole symmetry of the shirt sideways. If the bruises on his jaw and neck are any indicator, you’d guess this is Sunwoo, Wooyoung, or maybe San’s handiwork, but given that it’s your apartment he’s coming out of, you put your money on Sunwoo.

“Damn. You too huh—”

“I was just leaving!” he blurts out, shoving past you and speed-walking away while still putting on his layered jackets, and you snort and close the door behind you.

“Let me guess, that was the work of one man starting with a ‘Sun’ and ending with a ‘woo.’”

“You know it!”

He calls back at you from the kitchen, and you realise the mop of dark hair you spotted on the couch is not him and his permed curls, but simply Wooyoung’s atrocious bed hair. Or maybe sex hair. Could be either or, with him. Walking into better view, you notice the whole band is here already, seemingly waiting for you with Eric standing between the two couches expectantly.

“Ah good, you’re finally here!”

He sounds less than thrilled, and the rest of the band don’t seem all that excited either, barring Sunwoo’s aura of smugness at having his plaything leave moments prior. The tension in the room is palpable, like mugginess on a humid day, except the windows are wide open and the constant drone of the fan on in the background makes the would-be silence even louder somehow.

“Oh boy,” you groan, “if you’re going to grill us all on sleeping with the enemy, frankly I do not want to hear it.”

“You think I wanted to hear Jisung screaming out Sunwoo’s name repeatedly last night and calling him oppa?” Eric guffaws, as if that’s somehow your fault. You take a quick glance at the man in question, who only looks even more proud of himself, so you snicker at him.

“Wow, nice.”

“No, not nice, what the fuck you guys! Is there anyone here who didn’t fuck a stray kid last night?!”

“Huh?”

You look around the room at the others, only thinking you and Sunwoo did, but the only one who cautiously raises his hand is Kevin. You figure Wooyoung and Mingi probably got Changbin to crack with the added influence of Lino, but your eyes widen at San.

“Whaaat? That Hyunjin kid was testing my patience. Though I can’t say I wasn’t curious after his stream—”

“Seriously guys, did everything they said just evade you? They dissed our music, our message, Wooyoung and I’s dancing, our sex lives— and you’re going on and fucking them instead of fucking them over? What the fuck you guys!”

Wooyoung just shrugged. “I sure fucked him over his boyfriend, I think he appreciated the view—”

“You’re not even taking me seriously at all!” Eric roars, eyes flaring, but he’s right. You aren’t. You don’t think anyone else in the room even is.

“It’s hard to take you seriously when you’re trying to come at us for who we choose to sleep with. Like, I thought we agreed that what we do with other people is none of each other’s business, and it’s extra hypocritical when you were the first to do so this time. Last year we literally fucked a homophobe from the rival band to humiliate him and now you’re drawing the line? Just say you’re upset about Felix still and be done with it,” you tell him with scalding bluntness, and you can see the hurt visible all over his face. It does make you feel partly guilty, but you meant every word you said. Suppose you didn’t hear everything the others said once you were preoccupied with Felix and Chan, but you don’t think it would have changed your path of action regardless.

“Fine then,” Eric hisses, bitter and thoroughly done. “Fine! Fuck them all if you want, have one big fat orgy in our living room for all I care, but don’t expect to touch my ass once you’re done with them. Kevin, you’re the only one left with hole privileges.”

Kevin wrinkles his nose and raises a brow, puzzled. “But I’m a bottom?”

“Good! Then don’t use them! An extra fuck you to the rest of them!”

He storms off after that, slamming the door to his room behind him, and you all take a collective sigh at his little temper tantrum. They aren’t anything new, but he usually isn’t this unreasonable, but you all know why. Felix. It always comes back down to Felix, the first love who broke his heart into so many pieces he is still trying to glue them back together. You feel sorry for what he is going through, you really do, but that doesn’t mean you are going to let him walk all over you and lash out like that.

“So. Movie night?” San suggests to break the tension, and the others are quick to nod and mutter in agreement.

“Definitely not here, though,” you pitch in, Eric’s loud trap music blasting from his speakers through the closed door, right on cue. “Let’s give him some space to cool down.”

“I’ll stay here,” Sunwoo suggests, “Just in case he needs to talk it out while we’re still gone.”

“Let me,” you offer, “I’m not huge on movies anyway—”

“Respectfully, I think he’d rather talk to anyone but you,” Kevin interrupts with an apologetic frown. “You did kind of fuck around with his ex without him. I don’t think he wants to confront how jealous that made him. He still misses him so much.”

“I know,” you sigh, sinking down into the couch, wedged between him and Mingi. At this point you have already accepted movie night is not going to happen until you have talked this all out with the others. “I think it’s more than that, though. When I was talking to him about it while training him on pole, he said the rest of the kids made him jealous, too. Because those are all effectively, and I’m paraphrasing this bluntly, mind you, but they’re basically his replacements. His and the rest of their dance crew that he left. He wanted me to fuck Felix with him to prove that he too had moved on and met cooler, hotter and more talented friends to make music with, so he could feel in control again. But I think it backfired on him as soon as they started winning and rubbing it in our faces. At least, based on his outburst just then, that’s my guess. Still needa ask him directly, preferably once he’s let off some steam.”

Mingi plays with your hand as you talk, his large ones easily encasing yours and tracing patterns along your skin. “Sounds about right. Maybe we should stop sleeping around with them, then. It’s not like we’d have much of a dry spell without them, as hot as it is I don’t know if it’s worth making Eric upset.”

“That’s treating the symptoms, not the root of the problem,” you point out, noticing the way he stays fixated on your hand, not looking at you, but more so, not looking at Wooyoung. “That’s the thing I don’t get about monogamy. People will go to such lengths to make sure their partners don’t get jealous, instead of trying to unpack why they feel so bad about seeing someone else with them. Like, clearly he has a lot of insecurity about being replaced, or other people being better than him. I get that. So we just need to show him how much we value him, and how irreplaceable he is to us. How fucking with other guys doesn’t change that.”

That seems to stir something within Mingi, gears turning in his head visible on his face. You hope that it’s the realization you think it is, because while Mingi has never been the overly jealous type like Eric is, you know from many late nights drinking hot chocolate on his shoddy balcony that his insecurities are just as loud and all-consuming sometimes. You haven’t had the chance to properly check in on him since his fight with Wooyoung in front of you, but you hope he can read between the lines nonetheless.

“Huh. And how do we do that?”

“We put him in control again,” you say decidedly, nodding. “A position of power, of some sort. Make him the star of our next stage, build it all around it. Let him run it, even. And of course, him permitting, suck his dick till he’s shooting blanks.”

A unanimous chuckle ripples through the room at the last part, knowing full well how the combined effort of the six of you could make that a very easy feat.

“He did call us here to talk about our next stage,” Wooyoung hums thoughtfully, “I think he wants to do another special stage like we do at those dance clubs, with you taking over drums and Sunwoo on bass so he and Mingi can dance with me, if I were to guess. He seemed particularly torn up about their comments on dance specifically, which makes sense given how that’s how Felix left him.”

“What did they even say about your dancing, anyway? I didn’t catch that, was too busy arguing with—”

“Sneaking off to suck Felix’s dick in a hallway, we know,” Wooyoung snorts, shifting himself into his usual seat, that being Mingi’s lap, and leaning against his chest. “They said I danced like my sex appeal could make up for a lack of talent. Which is whatever, honestly, I just used that to make Changbin admit he still found me hot and eventually lead to bringing him home – amazing ass, mind you, he wanted to top so bad and I damn near let him but—”

“Okay, okay, details later, what else did they say about us?” Knowing each other inside out means that the tendency to cut each other off is never taken too personally, given how much you all have the tendency to ramble. You’re grateful for it, because at times like this, you need to get straight to the point. “Did they insult Eric’s dancing too?”

Wooyoung grimaces, lips pursing into a line, and that is enough to confirm your suspicions. “...yeah. To be fair, Eric did bring it up first. He was taunting them about their dancing and how they should go compete in dance competitions instead like they used to in Force – but oh, that’s right! Felix left Force, and for this, and he implied it was because he knew that they’d never make it in an actual dance competition without Force. So they dragged him and the rest of Force through the mud, saying maybe the reason they disbanded as soon as Felix left was because they knew he carried the team and they were nothing without him. You can imagine how hard that would have hit.”

You poke your tongue at the inside of your cheek. Can’t exactly say their response was entirely uncalled for, then, but at the same time, Eric made a solid point. Why didn’t they just enter dance tournaments instead? You remember Eric going to compete in a whole ton of them between Force and Triple Z, the dance crews he was in with Felix and Wooyoung and Mingi respectively.

Force since disbanded with Felix’s departure since he acted as the glue that held the crew together, the other members closer with him than each other, while Triple Z still meets up sometimes, but a lot more casually than they used to now that most of them aren’t studying anymore, and have a lot less free time working to pay rent. Especially with the Battle of the Bands coming up, you don’t expect they will be doing anything big for a while now. At least that meant Eric finally stopped overworking himself between all his commitments.

You think about the week prior he spent learning a whole new medium of dance just to prove a point, and you quickly retract that thought.

“I think I know just what he needs,” you speak up, the puzzle clicking together in your head one piece at a time. “Not just what he needs, what this competition needs. An even match.”

“An even match?” San echoes, and you nod, noting the way he looks slightly disheartened, but you continue before he can think that the band isn’t a worthy competitor to the current reigning group.

“An even playing field, I mean. They’re doing something completely different to everyone else; that’s why they’re winning, because they can’t be compared to anyone else. We just need to give them something to compare to. Another dance group. Four of us are already some form of dancer, and the rest of you are fit and fast learners. If we spend the next week on the grind, we can make a dance performance out of one of the old tracks Kevin or Mingi produced for Force or Triple Z that never got used– and if we let Eric run this little boot camp, he hopefully will feel like he’s in control of the situation again and that we still value his opinions and role on the team.”

“So... your vote is basically plagiarism then,” Wooyoung snorts, crossing one leg over the other with a playful flourish, almost kicking you in the face in the process. “I’m interested. In fact, if we want to really boot camp this, we should all take the week off work. I think I can help cover the costs that may arise from that one.”

“No way!” San gasps, eyes quickly widening while the rest of you glance around at each other, not getting the memo. “Don’t tell me that sugar daddy you were talking to is actually legit...?”

“More than legit,” Wooyoung preens, evidently rather proud of himself. “I found out how to squeeze even more dough out of him. He loves seeing me in fancy designer brands, he has no idea I just stole half of it and have been using the generous allowance he gave me to spoil Mingi instead and buy other sorts of useless shit and necessities. So I just pretend I’m this fashionista diva who only wants to wear the most exclusive of designer, and even with all the money he’s giving me, it doesn’t give me the connections to get limited edition pieces from exclusive collections... and he gets them for me, of course, and do you have any idea how much those kinds of things sell for?”

If there was one thing you always admired about Wooyoung, it was how clever that sly fox could be when it came to things like this. Trust Jung Wooyoung to milk rich old men for all they’re worth, but still not consider that microwaving rice three times would make it into a solid brick. The duality of man.

“Why haven’t you told us earlier?!” San seems almost offended, lips falling into a pout. “That’s huge! You’re basically rich now!”

“Ew, gross,” Wooyoung wrinkles his nose, “I’m not rich, I’m exploiting the rich. Big difference. Don’t lump me in with those bastards! I didn’t tell you all yet because I didn’t want to get my hopes up in case it was a scam or he ended up being dangerous, but... I think we’re in the clear now. I’m still going to pole dance because I love it and I don’t want my only source of income to be reliant on some old rich man’s whims, but I can afford to take a week off and pitch in for you guys too. I might have to leave periodically if he calls, though, but luckily I already know how to dance. I’ll catch up quick.”

“It’s a plan, then,” Kevin speaks up, and the relief it fills you with is immense; you were the most concerned about his reaction to the idea, as he was the least inclined to heavy physical activity out of all of you, but you figure you must have been underestimating him – he may be no dancer yet, but Gaga nights at the gay club have him vogueing like he is one. “We make our next stage a dance stage to rival theirs, and Eric gets to put us all through dance hell? Good thing I started working out…”

You look around the room for any signs of protest, but luckily enough, everyone seems to be on the same page. You see a particular spark in Wooyoung and Mingi’s eyes – for completely different reasons – that make you think this really is the right path to take.

“Going once, going twice… agreed, then!” You clasp your hands together, determined. “Someone pick a movie, and we can tell Eric when he feels like speaking with us calmly again.”

a/n: not gonna lie this might be one of my favourite chapters so far hehe those chan scenes were extremely fun to write. anyway if you havent already, let me know your thoughts thru this google form or even through an ask, either or can be anonymous if you want (tho if you want me to reply to your form responses, pls do sign off w ur @!) as always reblogs are always appreciated and im always down to talk in depth abt these characters if any questions or brainrot arises. LOL

#Fic Rec #Stray Kids #ATEEZ #The Boyz #sorikkung #polyamory

60 notes · View notes

jockpoetry · 4 years ago

Note

drop the trans fic rec list pls <3

Quick Disclaimers: 1) I’m gonna pop under a read more so it can be a living list / updated as I come across fics I like. 2) I will fully admit ahead of time all of these are transmasc fics. There are definitely some really good transfemme fics out there, but I haven’t read enough/am not transfemme so I wouldn’t feel comfortable offering recs for an experience (adjacent to but) not my own. 3) I think it’s important to highlight trans authors as far too often fics written by cis folks are the ones shared about in fandom, and those fics way too quickly slide into the realm of fetishization and trauma porn. (Even if it’s unintentional, or goes unnoticed by cis readers.) So I’ve really tried to make sure this list is highlighting people from within the community. Not all of these authors are trans, but a fair few are.

All that being said here are the various and sundry trans fics I’ve thoroughly enjoyed organized via author not tiers. There are some (slight) spoilers in the content warnings!

traveling light - sharkfish | e | mod. au | 42.7k | trans!cas

dean (who works for a towing company) has followed thursday’s trips (a travel blog) for awhile and when the author posts about car issues he finally gets the courage to reach out. the two become friends and talk via text and become closer. it is easily my favorite fic i’ve read, hands down. i’ve read better fics, better characterization, but this one just ticks all the boxes for me as a trans guy. it hit very close to home and helped me close the book on a relationship i’d had last year and i just cannot rec this one enough.

cws: mild dysphoria, talks of transphobia, alcoholism/addiction, cas gets outed against his will at one point in the fic.

daybreak - sharkfish | m | mod. au | 2.8k | trans!cas

a timestamp for/continuation of the above fic, it explores trans healthcare issues, cas’ dysphoria, an off-screen transphobic event, but it is resolved incredibly sweetly and i am a huge softy who did get misty eyed. it’s just a fairly open and honest look at being trans and being in a relationship and the hills and valleys of life.

cws: dysphoria, talks of transphobia in healthcare, an off-screen upsetting/traumatic transphobic event is referenced but not explicitly shown/explained.

dean and cas are neighbors, know each other just in passing, but dean a bit overzealous/anxious about his roommate potentially having COVID-19 stops by to see if it would be okay if he crashed at cas’ for a few days just to be safe. cas is a paleontology professor, dean is an artist. it is just a very silly, feel-good, domestic fic that will make you wish you were sheltering-in-place with a partner if you aren’t.

cws: covid talk, recreation drug/alcohol use (that’s all i can think of off the top of my head but i’ll reread and add anymore).

all this and heaven too - ftmsteverogers | e | canon | 7k | trans!dean

this fic makes me feel some kind of way, it was the first trans!dean fic i read that really led me down the path of reading trans fics. it just slaps. i think about their conversation re: cas’ raising dean from perdition literally every single day. it hits a lot of checkmarks that cis authors miss, in my opinion. plus it’s just cas cupping dean’s face and telling him on purpose. it’s about how dean isn’t ashamed of being with cas but he is ashamed of himself and it’s cas sitting beside him, loving him, and telling him he doesn’t need to hide. he deserves to be loved as he is. i also think cas in this is just...exceptionally well-written in this, his otherness as an angel is captured nicely, as is his love as a form of worship mentality too.

cws: mostly just internalized transphobia, author includes further comments in the end notes.

tell me i’m deserving - ftmsteverogers | e | canon | 3.8k | trans!dean

honestly this one is just sexy! i don’t even know how to sum it up besides that. cas is rightfully (and righteously) angry about how dean thinks he deserves the injuries he sustains makes it clear what he deserves is love. tbh all you need to know is that cas at one point says “my marks are different...my marks come from love.” and “i told you i’d give you what you deserve...not what you want.” and “turned out, cas loved giving head. he did it with a dedication that bordered on religious.” 🥴 so yeah, this one just fucks. that’s it. that’s all. there’s so much of this fic that makes me feel, as the kids say, unzipped.

cws: internalized transphobia, dean’s issues with unworthiness re: internalized transphobia. author includes further comments in the end notes.

breaking routine - fannishlyyours | e | mod. au | 31.2k | trans!dean

dean’s working two jobs, has gone to therapy, is physically transitioned, and happy! functioning! cas is a visiting professor of child psychology. it’s sweet. it explores lots of consent and open conversations and vulnerability. i appreciated how even if this dean is in a happy and functioning place he is still hiding and...works through some final hurdles throughout the course of the fic. i also like that the story doesn’t shy away from some of the pain of being a mlm transman and the nerves of that reality. how you feel like you’ll never been man enough. lots of really quality lesbian jo content in this too.

cws: chapter three discusses child sexual abuse and suicide and it is definitely upsetting, the author gives you a heads up ahead of time (both in the tags and before the chapter) but it is definitely upsetting so just a heads up. it’s about a minor character, not the boys. there’s transphobia (including a scene with a gay man being shitty about dean being trans) and some dysphoria talk as well. as well as discussion of body policing (not only of trans folk but of people of color as well) so heads up about some racism in here too. and for all you john winchester haters oh boy! he sucks in this!!

an exploration of gender; angelic - sometimeswelose | m | canon | 4k | trans!cas

this is one of those fics where i’m not sure i’m smart enough to fully understand it (science! not my forte!), but as a character study it’s such a great read. the bit about angels and how brother and sibling aren’t accurate it’s more like weapon of our father and how father is inaccurate too it’s more like commander/creator and how family is a unit of war does live rent free in my head. this fic does contain spoilers for his dark materials so??? if you’re worried about that, heads up i guess! the bit re: his dark materials makes me feel wild, and the author like really hit on something with the comparison they make. i also really just like how this fic absolutely encapsulates my feelings about canonical gay trans man castiel. it’s a really good fic.

cws: discussion of homophobia, lots of talk about nazis/wwii/the colonization of gender.

#talkin spn to myself #fic recs #anon #replies #messages #there's literally only seven here now i know i took like three days to post this but i swear to god some of the people who use the tags #are not using them correctly. and there's a lot to filter out of the way #anyways i'll update this as i come across more i wanted to hit ten fics before posting this but..... here we are #if you have any recs feel free to send them my way!

630 notes · View notes

zephyr-thedragon · 3 years ago

Text

*DRAMATIC ENTRANCE*

hello, loyal listeners

how long has it been, a week? two weeks? who knows, since i posted rapunzel. it hasn't been very long, HOWEVER, i am here to present to you a project i am very excited about

you see it was about a year ago when i made a promise, a promise yet to be fulfilled, that I would write you guys a wolflet song

well lads, the day has come

im not quite sure what route i meant to take with little red riding hood, but it turned out to be most of all, a tale of caution

like I say with all of my songs, you may interpret this however you wish, but when i read it, i think of a girl who was daring and brave, fallen at the hands of the kind wolf

at the beginning of the song the narrator's presence is very strong, constantly warning litte red and reminding her to be vigilant, reminding her of what the wolf is capable of

but as the song continues the narrator's voice fades into little red's until she's the only voice you can hear at the very end, and the bridge is like her breakthrough moment

i could honestly write a whole essay about these lyrics but for your guys' sake i'm gonna stop there kdfgjh

i'm very proud of this one :)

hope y'all enjoy!!!

Little Red Riding Hood

Written be me, for Scarlet (and Wolf)

Guitar base chords: Am Em F E7

‎

[Verse 1]

See what I can’t see

It’s all up to me now

To me now

‎

Living so naive,

I can tell how

It didn’t end well

Didn't end well

‎

Falling the whole way

The air feels different today

Are you still sure of your prey

‎

Stories are just that

But you know that within them

The truth can always be found within the act

‎

[Chorus]

Little red riding hood

Follow the wolf but don't get bitten

Follow the path but don't go far in or you'll get lost

‎

Little red riding hood

Oh keep your head no don’t lose it

Even when he speaks to you, like you’re the only thing that matters

It’s not worth it

‎

I can tell your brave, you’re determined

But you can be stubborn, you can be stupid

They're a part of each other, there isn’t much to it

‎

But in the middle of the night

When the moon steals the blank sky

Don’t look away

Don’t close your eyes

‎(Little red riding hood x4

Don't look away, don't close your eyes)

[Verse 2]

You're a girl in a world

Where you always have to think twice

Listen, learn, scrutinize

Is it love or sacrifice

‎

Use that anger, use your voice

Use that hidden knife

Think about, how easily

he’d be willing to take a life

‎

What does he want

What did he come for

The woods are silent

When the people are scared of war

‎

What’s more valuable

Time or gold?

Cause when either runs out

The truth will unfold

‎

God I’m stuck here

All who know me

Tried their best to keep a hold of me

If I’m fated to drown, at least let me go

‎

Just fall back

And let me die

Let me fade or let me fly

I’m not afraid of death, but I’m afraid of you

‎

[Chorus]

‎Little red riding hood

Follow the wolf but don't get bitten

Follow the path but don't far in or you'll get lost

‎‎

Little red riding hood

Oh keep your head no don’t loose it

Even when he speaks to you, like you’re the only thing that matters

It’s not worth it

‎‎

I can tell your brave, you’re determined

But you can be stubborn, you can be stupid

They’re a part of each other, there isn’t much to it

‎

But in the middle of the night

When the moon steals the blank sky

Don’t look away

Don’t close your eyes

‎(Little red riding hood x4

Don't look away, don't close your eyes)

‎

[Bridge]

Falling

I’m falling down

(x4)

‎

Can’t understand the storm in your eyes

There's beauty there and silenced cries

Have I misread you this whole time

‎

[Outro]

Falling

I’m falling down

(x2)

‎

Don't close your eyes,

Little red riding hood (x4)

‎

I'm falling

Falling

I'm falling down

(x4)

‎

THANKK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU FOR COMINGGG

*bows, exits*

taglist: @cerenoya @just2bubbly @cinderswrench @shelbylmkaider @shellyseashell @nightmare-not-neophyte @crescentchat @healing-winston-pratt @gingerale2017 @winterrhayle @salt-warrior @cindersassasin @purpl-cryptid @if-wishes-came-true @strawberry-seraph @thestarryeyedsapphic @genyasafingf @starry-tea-party @cinderskai @rapunzelfromthemoon

#AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #the lunar chronicles #tlc #the tlc musical #tlc songs #marissa meyer #scarlet benoit #wolf kesley #ze'ev kesley #wolflet

47 notes · View notes

nightlightmlm · 2 years ago

Text

9/2/22

update since it’s been over a year since my last post saying i was over him, at the end of last school yr i really did think i was over him & felt this magnificent feeling of freedom. then i saw him in the hallway w his hair down. it never really ends does it? that wrenching in your heart every time you see them again and it all just comes flooding back? you are never truly free from your first, even if it was unrequited, are you? will i continue to live in this confusing state of anguish as long as i’m in this reality? my answer is most likely. at least in my “better cr” dr everything will be perfect and i’ll be able to give my 14yo self the perfect life i deserve.

anyway i was feeling really emotional abt it all last night & wrote this long ass note getting my feelings out so here’s that if u want it

like i don’t have the same potency of feelings for him i used to but the remnants are still there juuust enough for my chest to still wrench every time i see him in the hallway/café. when i see pics of him it all just comes back flooding my brain. i know he & his gf are in a relationship for over a yr & i think they’re cute & they seem to be just perfect for each other which also hurts in a whole different way because i still know in this reality i could never date him even if he came to me asking me to because i wouldn’t feel comfortable dating a cis guy who has everything i want for myself. but i still just feel like such an idiot knowing i probably don’t cross either of their minds ever meanwhile i’m still not over him. they’re just living their lives so fully, doing so much and thinking every thought under the sun except me. because what even am i to either of them? to him i’m not even the person who was, in vain, in love with him for years. to him i’m just someone he had some classes with in 8/9th grade who had a crush on him. i don’t even want to know what he thinks of me now if someone were to ask him. it’s so fucking embarrassing thinking, what do my friends think of me who’ve known me for that long & know how i feel while also knowing them both & commenting on their posts “u guys are j so cute omg”? what do those friends of mine think of me? do they look at me still having feelings for him that won’t go away, and probably won’t ever fully go away, and think “god you sad, poor, loser, idiot, you’re so embarrassing, get over him, it’s been years, he’s straight, he’s taken, you’ll never have him”? i don’t even care that in this reality i’ll never have him and tbh i don’t even have a super strong desire to be w him in other realities. but i will in my better cr because i need to give my 8th/9th grade self the perfect relationship with him that i fantasized about 24/7 and wanted so bad and thought i was so ready for at the time that i never got to have, while having the perfect body, appearance & life in every other way. how did those middle school/freshman classes become history so fast? why does time get lost so easily? why can’t it just stop for once? it’s drowning. it’s suffocating knowing times in my life that felt perpetually like the present, like they’d never be over, have just steadily and steadily faded into the past too slowly to have realized until it’s too late, it’s been done. times when we still had classes together and would joke around and we got along. when i’d make a joke & he, hearing it from across the classroom, would actually laugh. his shenanigans and ways of charming every teacher despite talking when he shouldn’t have been and being generally very annoying a lot of the time just for the sake of it. the times before i admitted my feelings to him because although he was accepting and rejected me politely, i know he saw me differently starting then & treated me differently too. nowadays he doesn’t even notice me, notice that i’m in the hall or in the room. pays me no mind, for i am but an ant in the crowd. is it worse to be ignored or to be not even noticed? is it worse to be hated or to be not even thought about, not even considered, not even as a fleeting thought, a gust of wind, a tumbleweed gone as soon as it was there?

#e****💞#mlm #gay #him

7 notes · View notes

olivine-ocean · 3 years ago

Note

Ghiaccio, Formaggio, Melone and Adaman for the ask game !!

Hello my dear, I will now be here for an hour answering all of these as best as my Kinnie ass can

🧊 Ghiaccio 🧊

Sexuality Headcanon: Gay Gay Homosexual Gay

Gender Headcanon: Trans Masc

A ship I have with said character: Meloghia my beloved

A BROTP I have with said character: I feel like he’s someone that even his teammates can’t totally predict and so aside from Melone and maybe Ris he doesn’t have much bias from or toward the others

A NOTP I have with said character: Not really any that I can think of?

A random headcanon: Ghiaccio plays pokemon, spent his paycheck on a Game Boy and Pokemon Blue in 1999. He was awaiting Silver’s drop on April 6th, 2001, which if going by canon he passed away just a few days before, but seeing as canon sucks he got his hands on it after recovering since he wasn’t really banged up too bad while he waited for the rest of the team. No one else on La Squadra really plays but Narancia does.

General Opinion over said character: He’s an angry little elf (your words, not mine). He just means well but easily gets frustrated and people like Forma and Melone like to purposely push his buttons and watch him explode. He just said expects a lot of himself and when things don’t go his way it stresses him out and like can relate. But again deserved much better that’s gonna be on most of these.

🧀 Formaggio 🧀

Sexuality Headcanon: Mans is Bi, no preference either

Gender Headcanon: Cis guy

A ship I have with said character: Forluso for sure

A BROTP I have with said character: honestly he’s chill w everyone but I don’t think he’s hella hella close w anyone to the point of being besties aside from Lu

A NOTP I have with said character: Again no one that id really strongly have to say no to shipping him w

A random headcanon: mans is a stoner who makes Kraft mac n cheese at 3 am and no one can tell me otherwise. He and Illuso share it when they’re together and Lu doesn’t like to admit to enjoying it as much as he does. Forma adds extra cheese to the pot too and specifically uses less milk than asked for. Makes it thick just like him <3

General Opinion over said character: Funky cheese man is funky, I just think he’s a good lad that likes to crack jokes and make light of a bad situation where he can. He’s pretty easy to get along with but can be a bit dense at times. We love him tho.

🍈 Melone 🍈

Sexuality Headcanon: There is nothing straight about this man, he likes men

Gender Headcanon: He’s trans too

A ship I have with said character: Meloghia w a side of Meloris as a treat

A BROTP I have with said character: Melone and Illuso are petty bitches together and we love that for them. They just get on well and share tea.

A NOTP I have with said character: again idk can’t say there’s any ones I see much that I’d be opposed to?

A random headcanon: Melone is constantly cold and very comfortable with the team and will often try and leech heat off of his teammates. Usually Ghiaccio although that would seem counter productive, or Ris because he’s a big warm body and wouldn’t care. Pros will usually push him away, Pesci is a bit nervous about it but wont mind it, Forma teases which riles up both of their partners, Lu will complain and push him off. He wouldn’t bother Sorbet and Gelato with it.

General Opinion over said character: he’s just a funky twink and people who misinterpret his character need to re-look at stuff and what he’s actually canonically done and the way in which his stand works.

💎 Adaman 💎

Sexuality Headcanon: Very gay

Gender Headcanon: trans masc

A ship I have with said character: Adaman Volo is just, it hits we know this

A BROTP I have with said character: Him and Irida have fun back and forth and I enjoy their story growth together.

A NOTP I have with said character: Not really a NOTP but I do think him and Melli are exes and that’s why Melli purposely sorta annoys him abt stuff

A random headcanon: We know he’s very focused on time and not wasting it, so doing things quickly which can lead to recklessness. He doesn’t stop to think so he misses even the most obvious at time and always feels like he has to be moving and doing things. He post game will travel the region with either just Leafeon or with his Trio of mons just to check on things or to have something to do since sitting around for too long makes him antsy.

General Opinion over said character: I just really enjoyed his character in the story and wish we got to see more or that post game he didn’t just stand at Lake Valor in any weather with the same line or two of dialogue. At the very least make him able to be rematched or give him something. But from what we did get I just liked that he was sorta self confident but also got jabs taken at him by others like Sabi or Irida and he just gives me like big brother energy where he doesn’t really take them to heart too much despite being Mai’s younger brother. That’s another relationship that could have used more development but maybe DLC rumors will give him and Irida more time to do stuff.

#ask #jjba #pokemon #ghiaccio #formaggio #melone #adaman #🧊#🧀#💎#pla #gw

9 notes · View notes

butchhamlet · 4 years ago

Note

there are obviously no right answers and many interpretations but: violacesario? gender?? thoughts???? i am so ready for your takes

OKAY again! no right answers but!

as someone who is trans and nonbinary and straddles the line between the binary genders... i am of course inclined to project intensely on them which means i am VERY excited about transmasc violacesario!! i think a lot of things go really really well with this: they’re treated throughout the play as though they were “born” sebastian’s “sister” (suggested by the way others talk about viola as a sister figure & also about how feminine they look); they jump really really quickly to the “okay i’m gonna pretend to be a man” thing; while they have multiple chances to reveal their “womanhood” (particularly in the almost-duel scene, where they mention the idea of doing so), they only come clean about their disguise when they HAVE to to clear up the misunderstandings. and of course there’s the fact that orsino keeps calling them cesario even after they’ve confessed! and okay yeah he says it’s like,,, until they put their women’s clothes back on or whatever but come on... this is all to say that i am VERY partial to trans guy or transmasc-nonbinary cesario. (particularly nonbinary cesario because of the way they walk that line -- “i, poor monster” stands out to me in particular because it seems to suggest the disconnect with their gender goes deeper than their disguise - they can just remove their disguise if they have to, so why does that make them a monster?)

BUT. i ALSO think trans woman viola is so fucking god tier because what violacesario goes through is SO easily mapped onto a trans woman’s story in the modern day... like, despite being a woman, she has to hide the fact that she’s a woman to stay safe and make friends & allies and even to find work. she pines after a man who she can’t have because he wants a woman and she can’t tell him she is one; she feels guilty when a woman falls for her because she knows she isn’t what she seems. and of course there’s the fact that at the end of the play viola seems content to go back to being a woman! which! is equivalent to coming out & getting to be one’s true self which makes me teary-eyed thinking about (& of course this can also apply to nonbinary transfemme viola don’t get me wrong)... say viola takes up the mantle of being her father’s heir because sebastian is gone & she’s now the oldest living “son,” but when sebastian reappears she’s once again free to be who she Truly is because she no longer has to play that role and carry her family’s memories with her alone... I Sob

uh. i know this literally isn’t an answer because i just listed two opposing things. but i feel like WHATEVER way you want to play it, cis woman viola feels... off... if ONLY because of the absolute ease and immediacy with which they decide to disguise themself in this way - either because they want to or because it’s easy for whatever reason, which... thinking emoji.

#max.txt #AGAIN IM SORRY THIS ISNT A LEGIT CONCRETE ANSWER I JUST. I HAVE THOUGHTS! I HAVE THOUGHTS #twelfth night #would love to hear others' thoughts on this one too :3c #also this is a little disjointed but im at this moment writing my 'what if i directed twelfth night' staging #which has a little more detail scene by scene #so ill probably post that also DNFDFBDBD #suits-of-woe-main #violacesario #bottom bless thee thou art trans

138 notes · View notes

haliyam · 4 years ago

Text

interim (i)

zeke x reader/oc (warning: slow burn with some plot)

summary: You return to Liberio not long after the Warriors arrive home from their failed mission in Paradis and discover that things have changed. (Or they will, and maybe a little more with Zeke than you expect.) [Season 4 and manga spoilers ahead]

AO3 link | Ch 2

Hi everyone! This is part of the series I mentioned on my oneshot Asset, but it's a prequel. I'd love to continue the season 4 stuff, but I want to see how the manga ends first so I can plot out Reader's part in it all. (Also edit post-139, I've completely fallen in love with Zeke who deserves so much better and while I always intended to take my time with the Asset prequels, I'm in no rush to get to the Asset sequel. I do want to update as regularly as possible though, rl willing!)

The Reader/OC will be a cis-female Eldian character with a set background, as you'll find at the end of this chapter. Reader’s default name is Lucy, just because I personally don’t like writing ‘Y/N,’ but please feel free to set the substitution for Lucy to you or your character’s First Name using the InteractiveFics browser extension! So on the browser extension that would be: Lucy = Your or your character's First Name. Because reader will have a set background, you'll have a set surname as well.

I will say that Zeke may seem a little OOC/angsty in the beginning of this story, if only because Reader and Zeke were good friends before he became the shitstain we know and love today and Reader is fairly familiar with his true moods even when he is being annoying as hell. (And Zeke is annoying. I swear I do like this guy hahah...)

I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

It’s strange how easily you fall into step with the soldier ahead of you.

You don’t march, and your eyes wander stern walls and imposing doors that have long left your dreams, but your footfalls follow only one beat that echoes throughout the hallway as he leads you through it. There’s an almost comforting order to the sound that belies the way your heart tries to hammer its way through your ears or right out of your chest.

It feels like forever and far too soon when you arrive at a familiar waiting room. Motioning to the chairs around a small round table, the soldier knocks twice on the door opposite where you entered. When no one responds, he simply stands there, and you have no recourse but to take that seat.

Voices filter in, muffled, from the other room, and you slip your hands under the desk to squeeze your fingers together. Maybe this was a terrible idea after all. You can still leave, pursue your medical degree back home…

“No,” you whisper to yourself, even if you do abruptly stand from your chair. You just need a moment to freshen up. Facing the soldier, you begin, “I would like to—”

Alarm replaces the question in his gaze when two heavy knocks cut through your words. He stares at you a little longer, a new question, and you reply with a deep exhale.

“Never mind.”

He nods. “They’re ready for you.”

You enter the conference room, which is far too large for the four people sitting at one end of the long table there: an older man with more lapel pins and crow’s feet than you remember, and three others closer to your age—the esteemed Warrior Unit and their commander, Theo Magath.

Six long years later, they all look different enough that under other circumstances, you might hesitate to recognize them. But you know this place all too well, the lighting and their seating arrangement so familiar that you can mistake them for no other than Zeke Yeager, Pieck Finger, and Porco Galliard.

It soon appears from their expressionless gazes that they can’t say the same for you. Not that you can blame them—they had no reason to expect your arrival, and it’s Commander Magath who huffs at their frigid reception. “Is that how you Eldians treat old friends?”

The three glance at one another. You venture a small smile, and the recognition and surprise that sink into Zeke’s features make Magath snort as Pieck leaps from her chair, shattering the chill in the room as surely as she crashes into you with an embrace.

“Lucy!”

The joy in her voice sweeps aside your initial fears and brings your excitement bubbling out of your throat in your own laughter. “Pieck!”

She’s talking before you even part and still holding onto the back of your blouse when you do. “You look so… old,” she grins. “That is—me-old.”

Her languid excitement makes it difficult for you to keep your composure. “I am you-old,” you say, trying not to giggle, but your toothy smile already reaches from ear to ear.

Before you can say more, Commander Magath clears his throat. “If you two are finished…”

Both of you freeze instinctively at his tone. Stealing another squeeze, Pieck steps aside as Magath rises from his chair. “Good of you to drop by, Blanchard.”

You quickly cross the distance to shake his proffered hand. “Thank you, Sir. And congratulations on your promotion.”

He shrugs, taking a seat and gesturing that you and Pieck do the same. “Still not a far cry from playing nursemaid sometimes.”

Pieck shakes her head. “Don’t say that, Sir.”

“You’re right. I’m at least a pay grade or two above nursemaid,” Magath chuckles just a little, and to his right, Zeke continues to stare at you.

“Is that really you?” he asks, mouth set in a line under his new beard.

“In the flesh.” His expression remains neutral through your nervous chuckle. Shifting in your seat, you nod away toward Porco. “It’s so nice to see everyone again. Galliard.”

Though he gave you an appreciative once-over as you entered, Porco is now as uninterested as they come. “I didn’t think you’d still know our names. Thanks for taking the time to drop by, I guess.”

“Oh, come on, Pock,” Pieck teases, ignoring the air of hostility that starts to surround you. As though Porco is only an unruly child, she says in feigned apology, “A few days with the Jaw and he’s already this cocky.”

“Ah.” You can’t bring yourself to mirror her mirth. “I heard about that. I’m sorry about Marcel. And Bertholdt—and Annie…”

Pieck glances away, and because you can’t meet Zeke’s eyes at the moment, you address the commander instead. “What about Reiner? I heard he’d returned.”

“Braun is still undergoing a debriefing.”

A debriefing, you think, when they’ve been back a fortnight already? But it dawns on you easily enough that what Reiner is undergoing is an ideology test. Reindoctrination.

“I see… but…”

“It was on my recommendation,” Zeke cuts in, daring you, a civilian, to protest. His arms are crossed now. “Otherwise he’s in danger of passing on the Armor a full six years too early.”

“I only meant to say that Reiner is the most loyal Eldian I know,” you answer levelly, eyes boring into his. Your nails dig into the cloth of your skirt on your lap as you pretend not to hear Porco’s scoff. Taking the Armor from Reiner? The operation was a massive failure, but that consequence is far too severe... however expected. “After you, of course.”

Zeke tilts his head, obscuring his gaze from your view when the light above reflects off his glasses.

“It’s a good thing, in any case,” Magath explains. “Behind enemy lines for over five years, he—”

Whatever his opinion, the commander abruptly stops himself from sharing it and clears his throat instead. You know better than to protest when an unsettling pause rests over the room—exactly what you feared would occur.

To your surprise, it’s Porco who comes to your rescue, even if his disdain is palpable. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“Well,” you begin gratefully, “I’m—”

“I asked her to come,” says Magath, completely ignoring the tension. “But my meeting prior ran overlong, and I have another coming up. Can you come in tomorrow morning? Ten sharp?”

You sit up straight when he addresses you. “Of course, Sir.”

Magath smiles—still a novelty to you—and pushes himself up out of his chair. The rest of you do the same, following him to the door as he speaks. “Go ahead and catch up in the meantime. And Blanchard—it’s good to see you again. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“The rest of you—dismissed.”

He leaves the room with the Marleyan guard at the door. The other three let out a breath of relief once it closes.

“Blanchard,” Porco enunciates, stretching his arms. “Are we really still doing that? Who are we supposed to be fooling here?”

Pieck sighs, but it’s Zeke who stays him with a light backhand to the stomach. “Settle down, Galliard.”

Porco pushes his hand away. “Seriously? Of all people, you—”

“Your first transformation was pretty brutal, Galliard,” Zeke casually announces. He winces for good measure, like he’s actually worried. “Why don’t you get some rest?”

The hostility on Porco’s face quickly shifts to embarrassment, and you feel for him. “You’ve transformed already?”

“I wanted to go check on the Warriors anyway,” he says instead, eyeing you with a curled lip. “Nice seeing you again, Blanchard.”

“You too,” you call out, but he’s already stalked out of the room.

You feel Pieck’s hand loop around your arm. “Don’t take it personally,” she says gently. “Learning about Marcel was difficult for him.”

“I can only imagine.” She gives you a small smile at your words, and you understand. Casting a more pleasant gaze around the room, you ask, “How are you two? I thought it might be nice if we could get some lunch together.” You check your watch. “...Very late lunch.”

“I would love to,” Pieck says cheerfully, leading your way out of the room— “Tomorrow. I still have so much paperwork to do.”

Zeke snickers. “The joys of working with a team.”

“Life is unfair,” Pieck declares, but smiles when her hand slips down to yours. “I’ll pick you up after your meeting with Magath tomorrow. It’s a date, right?”

You squeeze her fingers in return. “Definitely.”

Her leisurely footsteps fade down the hallway, and you soon find yourself alone with Zeke. You dust at your blouse idly, but you must eventually look at him. “I suppose it’s just you and me today, then.”

He only eyes you, scratching the side of his bearded jaw. It’s even worse than him outright declining.

“Unless,” you quickly add, detesting the dead air, “are you… training the new Warrior class?”

Zeke snorts. “No. I’ve been busy with other work, but you can check in on their progress if you’re interested. Seems like the Commander wouldn’t mind, seeing as he invited you here.”

You ignore the jab: And you accepted. “What’s kept you busy?”

“Good question.” His smile is a facetious one. “But you know that’s top secret.”

You scoff, but you were braver in front of the others. Now his indifference is too much to bear.

It’s only after you turn away that Zeke asks, “Why don’t you drop by the house? My grandparents should be happy to see you again.”

“I… actually came from there. They asked me to stay. I hope you don’t mind,” you follow, and regret the words as soon as you say it. It’s like you’re trying to piss him off. “I’ll pay for my share of everything, of course.”

He doesn’t react with anger, but you were stupid to expect him to. “Oh?” he asks instead, managing the most sarcastic one-word question in existence. His voice has gotten so much deeper in the last six years, and somehow that makes it worse. “I would have expected the distinguished Miss Blanchard to prefer better accommodations by now.”

You resist the urge to wince. “Don’t say that. The Yeager household was like home to me for several years. More than home, sometimes.”

There’s a pause where only your footsteps, still in time with one another, are all you hear as you make your way down the empty hall. The thought of Zeke’s gaze right now shames you, but it’s ahead he’s looking when he lets out a whistle. “You’re making this difficult for me,” he laughs. “How can I kick you out after such high praise?”

Your last footfall echoes as you stop, reaching for his arm. “Zeke—”

He yanks it away without even looking at you. “We should head back before the Commander decides he wants something from me after all. Come on.”

Your face burns with humiliation even though there’s no one else around to watch him walk away, his long strides too fast for you to catch up.

The Yeagers are pleased to have you over for dinner and beyond, and though you already dropped by before making your appearance at HQ, Mrs. Yeager does not run out of subjects to discuss with you, updating you on several of your neighbors’ lives. Who has married, who has passed away, and whose children have joined the Warrior program themselves, only to fail. Zeke doesn’t talk except to comment on something his grandparents say, or very rarely something you say so as not to arouse their suspicion. They have none. They are too busy doting on you after your long, long absence.

After dinner, when your stomachs are full and your chest is light with laughter, you stand up to collect the dishes and bring them to the sink. “Absolutely not,” Mrs. Yeager says, realizing your intention once she hears the light clatter of tableware. “You’re our guest, Lucy!”

“Please,” you call from the sink. “I miss doing this with all of you around.”

Dr. Yeager sighs in agreement with his wife. “Not on your first night. Zeke.”

Zeke is already on his feet, leaving only everyone’s glasses as he makes his way to the sink with the placemats. Dr. Yeager has brought out their good wine to celebrate your return. “I can do this myself,” he tells you, trying to wave you aside.

You don’t budge. “But I can help. We’ll get it all done more quickly.”

He levels a look at you—one you haven’t seen since you were very young, from before you were friends. “Sit with my grandmother, Lucy,” he murmurs so that only you hear. “Don’t make her crane her neck just to talk to you.”

Shame and something completely unfamiliar fill you at his reprimand, and you surrender with a nod. You make your way back to the table and squint at Mrs. Yeager. “Only tonight, though.”

Mrs. Yeager laughs, reaching for your hands across the table. You give them to her easily. “You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman,” she says. “Your parents must be very proud of you.” You nod with some unease, and Dr. Yeager, even as he enjoys his wine, clears his throat. Mrs. Yeager realizes her mistake. “Ah—I...I’m sorry, dear. I know they passed away several years ago. But I’m sure they would be proud of you now.”

“That’s all right,” you reassure her. “I hope it’s not too bold to say, but… you and Dr. Yeager were mother and father to me for a time as well, when they couldn’t be. I will always be grateful for that.”

“Oh, Lucy,” Mrs. Yeager smiles, her eyes quickly shining, “That isn’t bold at all. We felt the same way. We only wish you had written more!”

A scoff makes its way from the kitchen. “Grandma,” Zeke reminds her lightly, even as he scrubs the plates with renewed vigor, “you know Lucy has been busy.”

“I know that, dear, I wasn’t trying to—”

“No, it is my fault,” you agree. “I promise I’ll be better about that the next time I go.”

“Next time?” asks Dr. Yeager, suddenly sitting up straight. “Where are you going?”

You blink, turning your attention to him, and attempt to wave the confusion away with your hands. “No, no, Dr. Yeager, I’ll be staying here for a while. I only meant that for the next time I leave Lib—”

“Next time?” Dr. Yeager repeats, his hand knocking over his wine glass as he eyes your left sleeve with intent. It trembles as he grasps at his scalp. “If you’re leaving, why aren’t you wearing your armband?”

The faucet shuts off, leaving only the sound of alcohol dripping from the dinner table to the floor, and Mrs. Yeager turns to him nervously. “Dear—”

“Don’t leave without your armband again, Faye,” he pleads, looking straight at you. He rises from his seat, voice more and more frantic as he swipes at a nearby cabinet with nothing to show for it. “Where is it? Where did you put it?”

Zeke is already wiping his hands on the hem of his shirt, and Mrs. Yeager goes to take her husband’s arm. “Darling, no, this is Lucy, remember?”

But Dr. Yeager is already heaving. It’s not long before tears are streaming down his face and he cries, “Why would you do this to me again? Why did he let you remove your armband, Faye?!”

“Dr. Yeager—I’m Lucy. Lucy,” you insist, hurrying over and tucking your hair behind your ears to show him your face, smiling as you’ve done many times in an attempt to calm him. You hold his arms, trying to jog him back to reality, but by now he is screaming and weeping, digging his fingers into your arms and repeatedly calling out his daughter’s name.

“...Come on, grandpa.” Zeke pries Dr. Yeager’s hands from your sleeve with his grandmother’s help. Stunned by his sudden lapse, you can only watch—able to follow only when they are already struggling with him by the stairs.

“Zeke—”

“Stay there,” he hisses with rancor that freezes you in place. Mrs. Yeager apologizes, but of course you shake your head and return to the dining room. Your hands shake as you clean the spilled alcohol from the dinner table and the floor, going over what you could have said to set off Dr. Yeager.

This is hardly the first time you’ve seen him like this, but it used to take only very specific words to remind him of that event, and so much easier to bring him back from those memories. The memory of his weeping face seizes at your heart, tempting you to launch yourself upstairs and ask after him, but Zeke is right. You’ll only make things worse.

You’re getting started on the dishes again when you hear heavy footsteps plod down the stairs.

Zeke. You cuff the faucet off, mouth already open when he smiles, reaching over to graze your exposed ear with his thumb and his index finger. “Did growing up damage your ears? I said I’d take care of the dishes.”

The unexpected contact sends a strange rush through you, but it’s the insult you focus on ignoring. Even if you do untuck your hair. “I’m sorry about Dr. Yeager.”

“It’s not your fault,” he shrugs. “It happens more often nowadays.”

“I didn’t know it had gotten so bad.”

“How could you? You’ve been away.”

You gnaw on your cheek at that. “I’m sorry, Zeke.”

For a moment, you finally see it—the recognition of the words you’ve been trying to say since you met earlier that afternoon, and the reason why. An eddy of hurt and confusion reflects in his eyes, pulling at the air around you. You want to rise above it, or else drown, or just beg for his forgiveness, but he knows you, or knew you as much as you knew him, and he cuts you off before you can speak.

“You really have grown up.” His droll chuckle makes your heart sink into your stomach. “You never used to apologize for anything.”

You make a face. “That’s not true.”

“Maybe. You were pretty damn insolent when you wanted to be.”

“I guess I could be,” you murmur. Your eyes lift to his, on a tightrope’s edge. “Remember when Marras overheard me complaining about firearm maintenance?”

Zeke snorts. “Magath had you cleaning Warrior arsenal for a week.”

You can’t help but laugh. “That was awful. Only Marcel snuck out to help me at night, and that was to impress Pieck. Thank you for that, by the way.”

“You’re welcome.”

You squint at him. Zeke grins, warmly now, and hope almost finds you—but your words catch up with you first, and both of you remember when you really are.

“Marcel,” you can’t help but say with regret.

“Yeah.” Coursing a hand through his hair, Zeke brushes past you to the sink. “Anyway, I’ll take care of this. You go to bed. You have a meeting with Magath tomorrow—that’s why you came back, right?”

“No, not just—”

The sudden burst of running water from the faucet and the wall of his back means the conversation is over. Again. Clenching your fist, you bite your tongue and slowly breathe out your growing frustration.

“Good night, then, Zeke.”

You’ve already gone up the stairs when Zeke swallows the lump in his throat, staring at the spoon splashing water upon his palm. He’s been washing it for the last two minutes.

“Night, Lucy.”

Zeke has already left for HQ by the time you come downstairs the next morning. Dr. Yeager is still in bed, exhausted as he gets whenever he remembers his children, but Mrs. Yeager has prepared breakfast. Try as you might, you cannot resist sitting with her and sharing a meal together. You make it to the Liberio military headquarters just in time to hear the new Warrior instructor barking out to the children jogging around the courtyard.

You wander a little closer, unable to help your curiosity—but a nearby guard spots you and quickly corrals you away, back to the offices. “They’re expecting you,” he says, looking you over as he hands you back your permit. “Don’t know what top brass wants with a civilian, much less an Eldian, but...”

“Top brass?”

The soldier almost sneers at you. As if you don’t know, Eldian, it says, and you’re starting to think you actually don’t.

He’s led you not to the same conference room as yesterday afternoon, but to an office that you distinctly remember as off-limits. When the soldiers standing guard let you inside, you understand why.

Top brass is right. More than Commander Magath, there are a number of higher-ups waiting for you inside - some faces you’ve glimpsed since you were a child, and others you have seen as recently as months ago. One in particular stands out—an intelligence officer who reports directly to your brother. Three are generals at some of the highest levels in the army.

“Blanchard,” Magath calls out. You nearly stiffen at his voice again, but relax in time, to the chuckles of the men in the room. The commander ignores them, staring straight at you. You detect the slightest hint of an apology in his hardened gaze, or maybe that’s wishful thinking to keep your growing displeasure in check. “Glad you could make it.”

“Sir, I—”

A nearby general cuts you off. List. “You can dispense with that, Magath,” he says. “We’re all in the know here.”

“Yes, Sir.”

General List turns toward you.

“Thank you for coming, Miss Tybur,” he says. There is no smile in his harsh features, but he is not unkind. Careful, maybe. “Please, sit. We have a proposition for you.”

So... yes! I admit, part of the reason I wanted to write something in the AoT/SnK series is because I loved and hated the addition of the Tyburs. So I wanted to write a little more about the family but also since I'm thirsty, write a Zeke fic and eventually a Levi one (whether AU or not). Obviously we'll eventually go into why the Tyburs would send one of their own into the Warrior program, among other things, but bear with me for now.

Also disclaimer: This is a Zeke/Reader story set in the AOT world, so it’s a romance with a guy who gleefully murdered a shit ton of innocent people and helped Marley level countries. Please don’t look to this story for a completely morally upright character/reader/OC who makes all the right choices. (Though expect that Reader will take them into consideration.)

Last thing! This is a slowburn with some plot, so while you can definitely expect romance (and smut) down the line, and while this fic does go heavily into Lucy's/Reader's relationship with Zeke, it also features interactions with other characters. I just wanted to give fair warning if you expect it to focus only on Zeke.

Thank you for reading!

73 notes · View notes

popshoveitqueen · 3 years ago

Text

A Look at Problematic Language: Using “Gay” as an Insult

Note: I’m very new to Tumblr and therefore might not know what I’m doing. If that doesn’t dissuade you from reading, then thanks!

While this topic is certainly nowhere near new, queer terms, more specifically for this example, the word “gay”, still get used as insults rather often, at least in my personal experience with attending a mostly cishet high school. Obviously, this is not okay for an entire slew of reasons, but to start with the short reason why: using the word gay as an insult, whether to directly attack the community or just in passing, is to essentially say that being gay is bad, or at the very least something that people should actively not want to be. When society allows for practices like this to happen, you can end up creating a belief in people that being gay would make them lesser.

Real World Example

In my high school it’s genuinely a challenge to go even two days without hearing some guy say something along the lines of “Dude, that’s so gay!” to his friends, causing them to all laugh. I’m sure I don’t have to say it, but as a lesbian it really, really sucks to constantly be near people making fun of the community, especially because it’s quite simply so easy to not do that. There’s plenty of infinitely more clever and less harmful things to say, and yet the default for many boys across all grade levels at my school seems to be gay, without question.

Now to be clear, my school tries incredibly hard to seem like they care about the queer community. There are at least a dozen posters hanging around touching on subjects like using the right pronouns and name, why bullying queer people is bad, and talking about the alarmingly high trans depression, self-harm, and suicide rates. However, this sentiment remains purely an image in most cases, as it’s rare to see homophobic behavior being called out. On top of the word gay itself, I often see boys putting on fake effeminate voices while saying offensive things that I’d frankly rather not repeat for this post.

Well, Have You Spoken Up?

While I understand this being one of the first things people would ask me when it comes to this issue, I feel like there’s a very real thing that needs to be considered. I am genuinely scared of what could happen if people realized I got somebody in trouble for homophobic behavior. None of the fear comes from administration, as whether they truly care or they’re just doing what they’re told to help the school’s image, the staff of my school seems to be pretty supportive of the community. The problem comes from my fellow students.

There have been quite a few fights at my school just in this year alone, and although they haven’t been related to queer issues to my knowledge, it still shows what kind of people are at my school. There’s the obvious reason I’d be scared to fight, which is I don’t want to get hurt, but there’s also a greater one at hand. It’s very much related to the trans girls in women’s sports debate, in the fact that if I lost the fight nobody would care all too much, but if I won... that would most definitely be a major issue, especially if I happened to fight a girl.

While I’d love to touch on trans girls in women’s sports in greater detail later, the comparison I’m looking to draw is essentially that when it comes to sports, people are easily the maddest about trans girls participating in women’s sports when they start winning, or to put it more clearly, when they start doing better than cis girls. So basically, having seen that that’s the way trans girls are viewed by enough of the population to pass laws against trans girls in women’s sports, I very much believe that were I to get in a fight and somehow win, no matter who started it, no matter who said what, I’d be in an indescribable amount of trouble, and I’d probably hurt the reputation of other trans women, if just a bit.

My Call To Action.

Really, the thing I want to be clear from my ranting so far is that this has all stemmed from the fact that gay can just be used as in insult as though it’s nothing. It sparks homophobic beliefs, it sparks fear, and it also sparks a divide between cishet and queer communities which simply shouldn’t exist. And I already know that there are probably people reading this thinking to themselves “Jeez, does comedy not exist anymore? It’s a joke!”, and to that all I can ask is that you please open your heart, if just a bit, and listen. While I’m obviously speaking in very personal examples, these feelings are far from being unique to me. This is so much bigger than a light joke as many would like to believe it is. This effects people every day, and I would know.

I’m not sitting here asking for big societal changes to just happen because of my random little Tumblr post, so honestly my biggest goal from the post is directed at any people who aren’t in the queer community. Although it’s sad, it’s people outside the community who usually have the greatest chance of actually inciting change in society’s views of the queer community, so please. If you participate in behavior like this, consider the consequences of your word choice, and if you know people who participate in behavior like this, please consider the possibility of calling them out. It’s small, but it could still help.

Hey, So… Why Did You Make This?

I’ll gladly answer that question! It’s incredibly important to get queer experiences straight from the mouths of people in the community out there, because that’s one of the best ways to get educated on or educate others about LGBTQ+ matters. I know my parents looked at plenty of media about trans people in an effort to understand what I was going through and how they could help me when I came out, so without information like that available it might be just that much harder for people to get through certain challenges. That’s why I want to do this, because I know looking at blogs by trans women in the early days of my transition really helped me figure certain things out, so maybe, just, maybe, I could end up helping fellow queer people who might need a bit of help on their own journey.

But no matter who you are, if you made it to the end of this, I’d like to genuinely thank you for reading. I hope you got something out of it!

#gay #lesbian #transgender #queer #queer pride #blog #tumblr blog

3 notes · View notes

gunshou · 3 years ago

Text

This is probably a bad idea, but...

So @luna-rainbow has been posting quite a bit about the portrayal of racism in TFATWS and how it's difficult for non-Americans to understand why Sam didn't want the shield and why he didn't just explain his thinking to Bucky. I replied that I wanted to try and tackle that question, so here we go.

BIG DISCLAIMER: I am a white, middle-aged, cis woman living in the northeastern USA, so I am really in no way the proper spokesperson for this topic. I'm not going to put forth my views as truth, but instead try to explain why I think Sam was so ambivalent and why Bucky just didn't get it (and probably still doesn't even if the writers gave him a small epiphany in the penultimate episode).

Everyone knows that the US was built on the bleeding backs of Black slaves. There is no rational way to dispute this disgusting fact, but the white people who have been in power in this country since forever have done such a good job of normalizing and minimizing the ramifications of that fact that many Americans just go through their lives and never, ever, consider it. Schools teach history, but it's often sanitized and presented in a very "Oops, our bad, sorry y'all" manner that makes young students feel like it was Very Very Long Ago and Over Now. I'm a high school teacher (of literature, not history, but they're intertwined) in a school where I know my colleagues in the Hx Dept are teaching racism as a living, breathing, hideously present concept, and I still have kids tell me every day that "America isn't like that now" as if examples of racial bias and systemic oppression aren't all around them.

In my mostly white district, the few Black kids don't speak up in these discussions, and lord, I do not blame them one bit. For one, they are tired. Tired of being oppressed, tired of talking about it, tired of trying to make other people see their lives and their struggles. Second, no one wants to be the Poster Child and have to bear the ignorance and intrusive interest of their peers. I imagine Sam feels similarly, and that's why he just never gets into it with Bucky. Sam is an optimistic and positive-thinking guy, and probably wants to talk about a million other topics before he wants to educate a 106-year-old white dude about the Black American Experience, and that's his damn right, good for him.

Said 106-year-old, by the way, has literally no concept of what being Black in America means. Luna-rainbow likened him to an immigrant in his own country, and there's some merit to that, especially considering the bulk of his conditioning as the Winter Soldier was at the hands of our Cold War enemies who were invested in making Bucky see America as an enemy. But mostly, the problem is that Bucky was asleep or absent from normal life during one of the most racially tumultuous times of our history. Now, the man lived in NYC, one of the most diverse cities in the USA, and seems relatively chill for having grown up in Ye Olden Times. But he likely hasn't studied the Civil Rights Movement, and how the Whites In Charge panic-reacted to the idea of other people having basic human rights with a coordinated and systemic effort to stop that shit in its tracks while appearing to bow to the social zeitgeist. Jim Crow, Confederate statutes, voter oppression, gerrymandering, redlining -- all the things that the United States Government did (and still does) to keep those BIPOC in their proper place and whites in power -- are often big news to modern people, so of course Bucky wouldn't get it.

He wouldn't intrinsically understand that The Shield represents a government that did its GD best to keep Black people poor, ignorant, and powerless while at the same time pretending to advance them and congratulating itself on how well it tied justice into knots and r*ped that blindfolded bitch holding the scales. He wouldn't know that Sam struggles with how to best embody his hope for the country he loves while also acknowledging that his country doesn't really love him all that much. How conflicted he must be as a veteran who fights for freedom while knowing he's not free to be treated with the dignity and respect everyone deserves. That Shield is government property, Sam is told many times, and to take it up means being the face and mouthpiece of a government that does not look, act, or experience life the way he does. A government that doesn't want him to gain power and will do basically anything to keep him down while all the while denying that they're doing any such thing. Captain America may visibly punch out Nazis, but is he punching out Karens? Or racist cops? Or racist teachers? "A complicated legacy," indeed.

So yeah, there's no way Bucky could know why Sam refused the shield and Bucky took it personally, as a rejection of Steve Rogers himself. And maybe to explain that would have forced Bucky to confront that while he is still Steve's Best Sidekick(TM), Steve abandoned him to this crazy future of alien invasions and divisive politics and tiger selfies and Bucky really just cannot deal. So he just gets pissy about it.

And Sam, for his part, was not going to unpack 70 years of American history and racism because that shit is tiring, especially when he's literally living in it right the f now. So he gets rightfully pissy about Bucky's inability to let it go.

And TFATWS writers go traipsing into the sunset congratulating themselves on the buddy cop story they pounded out that has all the buzzwords and the right tone for our post(?)-BLM times without ever once delving as deep into the story as the topic deserves. And people are confused and disappointed and don't really know why. But the truth is that 200+ years of history and oppression are not easily condensed into a 6-hour superhero TV show, and maybe the writers should have given some damn thought to how much they could realistically convey with sophistication and sensitivity instead of trying to have it all. Because we deserved better, not just as fans, but as critical viewers. (On the other hand, hooray for some people having these discussions instead of just saying BuT it'S JuST FiCTioN LiGhTen UP. Because it is never "just fiction," it is a reflection of our lives and has weight as such.)

Thanks for coming to my long-winded TED Talk, please don't send me hate mail. I'm already having a panic attack at having posted this.

#fandom dissertation #marvel meta #tfatws #I'm shaking with nerves at having posted this #at least I'm not high this time #so maybe it's coherent #idk idk

8 notes · View notes

treatmereallyniceys · 3 years ago

Note

1-85

1. Are looks important in a relationship?

I think being attracted to your partner is important, in my opinion.

2. Are relationships ever worth it?

The right ones are.

3. Are you a virgin?

Fuck no baby

4. Are you in a relationship?

Yes!

5. Are you in love?

Absolutely, fully in love.

6. Are you single this year?

Nope :3

7. Can you commit to one person?

I’m poly, but of course I can.

8. Describe your crush.

Tall, dark hair, beautiful smile, strong arms, killer smile.

9. Describe your perfect mate

Look at #8

10. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Yeah, because that’s how I fell for my Lyra

11. Do you ever want to get married?

Only to one person 💕

12. Do you forgive betrayal?

It really depends on how they betrayed me, if they’re sorry, if they change their behavior

13. Do you get jealous easily?

I do, but in a healthy way i think

14. Do you have a crush on anyone?

My boyfriend 😌

15. Do you have any piercings?

nope!

16. Do you have any tattoos?

a few :3 hoping to get another soon!

17. Do you like kissing in public?

Yes 😩

20. Do you shower every day?

probably every other day

21. Do you think someone has feelings for you?

i sure hope so

22. Do you think someone is thinking about you right now?

Maybe 🥺 i’m thinking about them as always

23. Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months and not cheat?

uh???? yeah?????

24. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years?

I hope so!

25. Do you want to be in a relationship this year?

yes, and i am!

26. Has anyone told you they don’t want to ever lose you?

Yeah. And they won’t. 💘

27. Has someone ever written a song or poem for you?

Yes 🥺

28. Have you ever been cheated on?

Unfortunately.

29. Have you ever cheated on someone?

No, and I wouldn’t. There’s no reason.

30. Have you ever considered plastic surgery? If so, what would you change about your body?

TOP SURGERY PLS

31. Have you ever cried over a guy/girl?

Yeahhhh.

32. Have you ever experienced unrequited love?

Technically yeah

33. Have you ever had sex with a man?

i’m assuming this means cis men and yes and i would not do it again

34. Have you ever had sex with a woman?

FUCK YEAH BABY

35. Have you ever kissed someone older than you?

Yep!

36. Have you ever liked one of your best friends?

my best friend is my boyfriend

37. Have you ever liked someone who your friends hated?

I don’t think so?

38. Have you ever liked someone you didn’t expect to?

No, not really

39. Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have?

Yes! I feel like lots of people feel this at least once

40. Have you ever written a song or poem for someone?

Yep

41. Have you had sex so far this year?

a few times ;)

42. How long can you just kiss until your hands start to wander?

Not very long with Lyra. hehe

43. How long was your longest relationship?

2 years and four months and counting

44. How many boyfriends/girlfriends have you had?

4 i think

45. How many people did you kiss in 2012/2013?

i don’t fuckin remember

46. How many times did you have sex last year?

i lost count (i never counted)

47. How old are you?

48. If the person you like says they like someone else, what would you say?

who tf

49. If you have a boyfriend/girlfriend, what is your favorite thing about him/her?

their laugh, their love, everything

50. If your first true love knocked on your door with apology and presents, would you accept?

my first true love has nothing to apologize for because my first true love is with me

51. Is there a boy/girl who you would do absolutely everything for?

my lyra

52. Is there anyone you’ve given up on? Why?

yes, my ex. because some people are just bad people

53. Is there someone mad because you’re dating/talking to the person you are?

i don’t know but fuck em

54. Is there someone you will never forget?

a few people

55. Share a relationship story.

the first time i saw lyra was in high school gym class. they immediately had my attention and we became best friends soon after. now we’re gonna get married

56. State 8 facts about your body

i have tattoos, there are many scars and stretch marks, i have dyed hair, i wear glasses, my tits are huge, i’m short...there’s 6 that’s enough

57. Things you want to say to an ex

fuck you

58. What are five ways to win your heart?

be kind, be funny, be hot, be genuine, be a good person

59. What do you look like? (Post a picture!)

60. What is the biggest age difference between you and any of your partners?

a year and a half

61. What is the first thing you notice in someone?

voice or hands

62. What is the sexiest thing someone could ever do for/to you?

be protective and proud of me

63. What is your definition of “having sex”?

two or more people making each other feel good

64. What is your definition of cheating?

doing relationship stuff or anything considered cheating via conversation without permission from your partner

65. What is your favourite foreplay routine?

kissing and neck biting

66. What is your favourite roleplay?

i’ve never tried it but cnc

67. What is your idea of the perfect date?

any time with lyra

68. What is your sexual orientation?

queer

69. What turns you off?

rudeness and being inconsiderate

70. What turns you on?

confidence, making me laugh

71. What was your kinkiest wet dream?

getting bred by my boyfriend

72. What words do you like to hear during sex?

“you take me so well” “good boy/girl”

73. What’s something sweet you’d like someone to do for you?

give me a bath🥺

74. What’s the most superficial characteristic you look for?

being hot in general

75. What’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you?

my lyra taking care of me every day

76. What’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for someone?

i really don’t know that’s their opinion

77. What’s your opinion on age differences in relationships?

as long as it’s legal and not creepy (no 18 year olds being with older people.)

78. What’s your dirtiest secret?

i have no clue. i have no secrets

79. When was the last time you felt jealous? Why?

yesterday because my boyfriend said someone was hot but it happens and jealousy is normal. i know they love me and want me so it’s all that matters

80. When was the last time you told someone you loved them?

just now

81. Who are five people you find attractive?

lyra, sarah paulson, cate blanchett, fiona nova, evelynn league of legends

82. Who is the last person you hugged?

lyra :3

83. Who was your first kiss with?

some kid named logan but does that rly count

84. Why did your last relationship fail?

TOXIC CHEATING POS

85. Would you ever date someone off of the Internet?

yeah why not

#asks #quinn

2 notes · View notes

kuromichad · 4 years ago

Text

different subject that’s heavy on my mind rn but since i’m already being harsh let’s get into it. i wish it wasn’t automatically presumed to be some kind of truscum attitude when someone tries to express that different parts of The Trans Community have like, different needs and different risk levels and different experiences and that we have the ability to talk over each other, harm each other, etc... like when i put it that way people generally are like ��of course that’s true!’ but is it ever really understood in practice? a number of people (not a large enough number, but still) are able to loosely understand ‘you can be trans and transphobic’ when it’s applied to the matter of transmisogyny but when a trans person tries to express distrust of or frustration with afab nb people due to how common it is that that category of person will, despite being trans/nb, espouse bioessentialist, anti-medical-transition, radfem-adjacent if not outright cryptoterf rhetoric, suddenly ‘trans people can be transphobic’ gets applied to... the person with a complaint about transphobia.

because he’s clearly an evil truscum man! regardless of if the person making the complaint is a trans man or trans woman, oops, lol. he’s a bad person who is attacking and invalidating and totally hatecriming the heckin’ valid, equally at-risk transgender identity of “an afab woman who isn’t a woman except when she pointedly categorizes themself as a woman because being afab makes them a woman who is ‘politically aligned’ with women but she’s not an icky unwoke cis woman because they don’t like being forced into womanhood although Really When You Think About It 🤔 all women are dysphoric because obviously the pathologized medical diagnosis of gender dysphoria in transgender people is something that equally applies to cis women just default existing under patriarchy 🤔, and no, equating these things totally does not imply anything reductive about or add a bizarre moral dimension to the idea of being transgender, whaaaaat, this woman who isn’t a woman doesn’t think there’s anything immoral or cowardly or misogynist or delusional about being transgender, they would never say that because THEY’RE transgender, except when she feels it’s important (constantly) to make clear that she’s Still A Woman Deep Down Inherently Despite Not Identifying As One, and none of this ever has any effect on how they treat the concept, socially and politically, of people who actually wholly identify with (and possibly medically transition to) a gender different from the one they were assigned at birth, be it ‘the opposite gender’ or abstaining from binary gender altogether or ‘politically aligning’ with the ‘opposite’ gender from their asab. never ever!”

and like maybe that sounds like a completely absurd and hateful strawman to you! but in that case you’re either like, lucky, or optimistic, or ignorant. i’m literally not looking at random nb people and declaring that in My Truscum Opinion they’re ‘really a woman’ just because they’re not medically transitioning or meeting some arbitrary standard of mine. i am looking at self-identified afab nb people, who most often use she/they because, y’know, words mean things, especially pronouns, so people who are willingly ‘aligned with womanhood’ typically intentionally use she/her (sorry that i guess that’s another truscum take now!!! that pronouns mean things!!! the bigender transmasc who deliberately uses exclusively he/him wants it to invoke a perception he’s comfortable with!), who actively say the things listed above (in a non-sarcastic manner).

like, the line between a person who says “i don’t claim to really not be my asab because i know no one would ever perceive me as anything else” because theyve internalized a defeatist attitude due to societal transphobia, and a person who says that because they... genuinely believe it’s impossible/ridiculous/an imposition to truly be transgender (in the traditional trans sense, beyond a vague nb disidentification with gender) and are actively contributing to the former person’s self loathing... is hard to define from a distance! i think plenty of people who are, in a sense, ‘tentative’ or like ‘playing close to home’ so to speak in their identity are ‘genuinely trans’ (whatever that may mean) and just going through a process. they might arrive at a different identity or might just eventually stop saying/believing defeatist stuff, who knows. but there are enough people saying it for the latter reason, or at least not caring if they sound that way, that it’s like, dangerous. it is actively incredibly harmful to other trans people. and it’s fucking ridiculous that it’s so difficult to criticize because you’ll always get the defense of “umm but i’m literally trans” and/or “well i’m just talking about ME, this doesn’t apply to other trans people” when it’s an attitude that very clearly seeps into their politics and the way they discuss gender.

because it’s just incredibly common for afab nb people (most typically those that go by she/they! since i’m aware that uh, i am also afab nb, but we clearly are extremely different, so that’s the best categorization i’ve got) to discuss gender in moralized terms, with the excuse of patriarchy/misogyny existing, which of course adds another difficult dimension to trying to criticize this because it gets the response of “don’t act like misandry is real” (it’s not, but being a dick still is) and “boohoo, let women complain about their oppressors” (this goes beyond ‘complaining’). a deliberate revocation of empathy/sympathy/compassion from men and projection of inherently malicious/brutish/cruel intent onto men (not solely in the justified generalizations ‘men suck/are dangerous’, but in specific interactions too) underpin a whole fucking lot of popular posts/discussions online, whether they’re political or casual/social, and it absolutely influences how people conceptualize and feel about transness.

because ‘maleness is evil’ is still shitty politics even when you’ve slightly reframed it from the terf ‘trans women are evil because they’re Really Men and can never escape being horrific soulless brutes just as women can never escape being fragile morally superior flowers’ to the tumblr shethey “trans women who are out to me/unclockable are tolerable i guess because they’re women and women are good; anyone i personally presume to be a cis man, though, is still automatically evil, and saying trans men are Just As Bad is progressive of me, and it’s totally unrelated and apolitical that i think we should expand the concept of afab lesbianism so broadly that you can now be basically indistinguishable from trans men on literally every single level except for a declaration of ‘but i would never claim to be a man because i’m secure in the Innate Womanhood of the body i was born into, even as i medically alter that body because it causes me great gendered discomfort.’ none of this at all indicates that i feel there’s an immense moral/political gap between being an afab nb lesbian vs a straight trans man! it says nothing at all about my concept of ‘maleness’ and there’s no way this rhetoric bleeds into my perception of trans women and no way loudly talking about all this could keep trans people around me self-loathing and closeted, because i’m Literally Trans and Not A Terf!”

again, if that sounds like a hateful strawman, sorry but it’s not. i guess i’m supposed to be like ‘all of the many people ive seen saying these shitty things is an evil outlier who Doesn’t Count, and it’s not fair to the broad identity of afab shethey to not believe that every person who doesn’t outright say terfy enough things is a perfectly earnest valid accepting trans person who’s beyond criticism’ but like. this cannot be about broad validation. this can’t be about discarding all the bad apples as not really part of the group. we can’t be walking on eggshells to coddle what are essentially, in the end, Cis Feelings, because in the best cases this kind of rhetoric comes from naive people who are early and uncertain in their gender journey or whatever and are in the process of unraveling internalized transphobia, and in the easily observable worst cases these people are very literally redefining shit so that ‘actually all afab women are trans, spiritually, all afabs have dysphoria, we are all Equally oppressed by Males uh i mean cis men <3’ because, let’s be honest, they know that the moment they call themselves trans they get to say whatever they want about gender no matter how harmful it is to the rest of us. and those ideas spread like wildfire through the afab shethey “woman that’s not a woman” community that frankly greatly outnumbers other types of trans people online, because many of those people just do not have the experiences that lead you to really understand this shit and have to push back against concepts of gender that actively harm you as a trans person.

like that’s all i want to be able to say, is Things Are Different For Different Groups. and a willful ignorance of these differences leads to bad rhetoric controlling the overall discourse which gets people hurt. and even when concepts arise from it that seem positive and helpful and inclusive, in practice or in origin those ideas can still be upholding shit that gets other people hurt. like, i don’t doubt that many people are very straightforwardly happy and comfortable with an identity like ‘afab nb lesbian on testosterone’ and it would be ridiculous and hypocritical for me, ‘afab nb who wants to pass as a guy so he can comfortably wear skirts again,’ to act like that’s something that can’t or shouldn’t exist. it’s not about the identity itself, it’s about the politics that are popular within its community, and how the use of identities as moral labels with like, fucking pokemon type interactions for oppression effectiveness which directly informs the moral correctness of your every opinion and your very existence, is a shitty practice that gets people hurt and leads us to revoke empathy from each other.

like. sorry this is all over the place and long and probably still sounds evil because i haven’t thought through and disclaimered every single statement. but i’m like exhausted from living with this self-conscious guilt that maybe i’ve turned into a horrible evil truscum misogynist etc etc due to feeling upset by this seemingly inescapable approach to gender in lgbt/online circles that like, actively harms me, because when i vent with my friends all the stuff i’ve tried to explain here gets condensed down to referencing ‘she/theys’ as a category and that feels mean and generalizing and i genuinely dislike generalizations but the dread i feel about that category gets proven right way too often. it’s just like. this is not truscum this is not misgendering this is not misogyny. this is not about me decreeing that all transmascs have to be manly enough or dysphoric enough and all nbs have to be neatly agender and androgynous or something, i’m especially not saying that nb gender isn’t real lmao or even that it’s automatically wrong to partially identify with your asab; this is not me saying you can only medically transition for specific traditional reasons or that you don’t get a say on anything if you aren’t medically transitioning for whatever reason, now or ever. i just. want to be allowed to be frank about how... when there’s different experiences in a community we should like. acknowledge those differences and be willing to say that sometimes people don’t know what they’re talking about or that what they’re saying is harmful. without the primary concern being whether people will feel invalidated by being told so. because these are like, real issues, that are more important than politely including everyone, because that method is just getting vulnerable people drowned out constantly.

#source on much of this: existing as a transmasc on tumblr for years and years.#i stopped identifying as any sort of 'woman-aligned' pretty much right before the ridiculous 'all afabs are dysphoric' stuff #but it sure did still make me hate myself and feel like a silly cowardly ugly little girl for wanting to transition!#and back when i WAS a she/they i definitely was falling for 'men are bad maleness is bad always inherently :)' rhetoric #not in the modern form outlined above but in the like. brainlessly parroted from 'baeddel tumblr' form #which was still like 'you can escape being a Bad Person by either becoming or admitting you are a girl :)'#and the only acknowledgment of trans men in this ideology was like. 'well i guess they feel like they have to do that :\'#'too bad for them. im not saying they shouldnt transition but you know. men suck though <3'#it was bad for me it was bad for other people so im saying from experience. Fucking cut it out! the end

15 notes · View notes