#maybe it's growing up 'tomboy' and never expressing that side of me so as an adult I'm lost??? idk idk

[rhythm-of-space]

Attempting to wear more feminine clothing like skirts and dresses and acknowledging it's cute while feeling entirely not myself is so confusing. I want to branch out and try new things yet still present myself and identity in a way that still makes me feel like..me.

Im having an identity crisis over a goddamn skirt help

[spectrophobias]

@dollhidden asked: What are Kaitlyn's thoughts on the other counsellors before/after that night at the camp? Who does she like the most? Is there anyone she likes the least?

OH THIS IS SUCH A GOOD ONE thank u so much u bless me with the best asks.......

ok ok ok so i'll start with jacob bc he's the one she has the most history with!! they both give absolute only child energy LMFAO so i feel like they connected pretty quickly and realized they made a pretty good team!! lil baby kaitlyn was definitely a tomboy, usually preferred to hang out and roughhouse with the boys, but she is such a little cutie i just know jacob took one look at her tried to be like "lol ur a girl u cant do this" and she jumped his ass 😭 and idk something about a good fist fight can be so bonding!! like honestly they are this text post in a nutshell

she doesn't really blame him for what happened that night. if she'd thought that they'd be putting themselves in danger, she wouldn't have told him how to sabotage the van to begin with. she obviously wouldn't have ever expected actual literal werewolves LMAO she knows he wasn't trying to get anyone hurt. she does think he needs to chill and let emma be once she's expressed disinterest and she tells him so, but her view of him doesn't really change. he's still one of her best friends, he's just a little stupid and has some growing up to do which! mood tbh!

she's very much not quiet about her crush on ryan but also it's not something she takes super seriously. a summer fling would have been nice but she doesn't actually really know him ? she wouldn't mind getting to know him better, but over the summer pretty much all she's picked up about him is that he's quiet, hot, and a little weird but like in a cute way LMAO. i think she'd like him a lot and they could potentially work well together if they actually got to know each other, but that have to involve things feeling way less one sided on her end. also we all know she's too busy kissing emily to even think twice about it!

she actually really starts to like dylan over that last night, even if ryan did choose to kiss him and not her LMAO. she never outright disliked him or anything, but after the scrapyard and trying to take their last stand at the lodge she has a LOT more respect for him and considers him way more of a friend. before it was kind of like "oh he's a work friend" and maybe a little bit of a competitive feeling on her end knowing they were both crushing on the same guy, but it was all very unserious to her hgkskfk just a bit of friendly competition!! LMAO. so they come out of it closer than she expected, i think they would keep in touch after! he's the only one that i think she would go out of her way to keep in touch with, besides ofc jacob who she already knows.

nick was absolutely not on her radar for most of the summer lmaooo. he is just very not her type, romantically or friendship wise ! he absolutely weirded her the fuck out right before he turned though LMAO so even though she knows he was really messed up at the time she is perfectly happy not getting to know him better!

part of that is probably that she just feels weirdly protective of abi, even though they're not like besties or anything. she thinks abi is a sweetheart and she just seems so tightly wound and anxious all the time fjdjkd she reminds kaitlyn of a kicked puppy!! she thinks abi is pretty cool, she's talented with art and good with the kids, so she wants to see her give herself a little more credit!! she knows abi is way closer to emma, and that kind of is also something where she's a little worried for her after seeing jacob all worked up over emma? bc jacob is a crybaby (affectionate) but he's hard headed he'll get over it LMAO she's a little more concerned about how abi would handle emma switching up on her. also she ships it!

so with emma, kaitlyn definitely doesn't want to be all buddy buddy with her after watching jacob piss his pants over her all summer LMAO but again it's the type of thing where she doesn't necessarily dislike her? she doesn't trust her but she doesn't think she's an inherently bad person or anything, she doesn't really think there's a Right side in emma being straight up about not wanting anything more than a fling vs jacob catching feelings anyway bc he's a sap, but she's like yikes ! i will not be touching that one !

bonus: laura hot. no thoughts head empty !

[storiesofateenager]

gender identity

Before School

I was born female, with a super feminine name. Before I was able to dress myself, my parents would dress me in somewhat feminine clothing, but usually not dresses or skirts or anything like that. It wasn't all pink and butterflies either, but they were clothes from the girls' section. However, once I was able to dress myself, I soon came to realize that I didn't care for those kinds of clothes. Ever since then, I felt disconnected from femininity.

I wanted to dress like my brothers, who I hung out with a bunch. My parents never forced me to dress a certain way, so I did end up wearing a lot of neon tshirts and basketball shorts. In my home, it was normal that I acted and dressed this way. I would play baseball and basketball and football with my younger brother in front of our house. We would also play things like cops and robbers, pretended to fight zombies outside with Nerf guns, and played other imagination games like that. I also played a lot of video games with both of my brothers. Playing Call of Duty and Guitar Hero with my brothers was a big part of my childhood.

Outside of the home, though, people often found it strange. I have one memory of one of these situations being on a playground with my siblings as a kid. I was really young, so I obviously hadn't developed the physical traits of a female, and I was wearing a tshirt and basketball shorts, but I did have long hair. There was a mom pushing her young child on a swing. I was standing by the swing waiting for a turn, so the mom took her kid off of it and said, "Come on, let's give the little boy a turn." I promptly said, "Oh, I'm a girl." The mom seemed shocked and said, "Oh I'm sorry, I just thought because of your clothes." I was confused because it was normal to me.

Elementary School

When I was in elementary school, I had a lot of girl friends but I never truly fit in with them. I just wasn't into the stuff that they were into. They wanted to sit and talk at recess. I was running around and playing football and basketball with the boys. They were fashionable and trendy at that age, and I just didn't care about clothes like that. They would pay attention to their hair and check on it during the school day, but I was the girl that just didn't care about my appearance at all. I brushed my hair in the morning and that was it. Basically, I was the big tomboy in my elementary school.

Of course, I still loved being around them and talking to them. They were my friends. Even though I liked doing traditionally masculine things, I got along with girls a lot better because I thought they were funnier and way nicer.

However, there were instances in elementary school where I went through periods of trying out feminine stuff again. I wore a skirt and leggings very rarely and but it felt extremely awkward. People even made comments about my outfits. One specific memory I have of one of these comments was probably around 3rd or 4th grade. I wore a dress on a special occasion, maybe picture day. One of my friends in an older grade saw me in this dress in the hallway and asked me why I was wearing a dress because it was so out of character for me. This was one of the nicer interactions during these spurts of femininity.

During the summer before 5th grade, I got a drastic haircut. One side of my head was shaved, and the other side was about chin length. At the time, this was just something I randomly felt like doing. I didn't have any gender stuff in mind, because I didn't know anything about that yet. I felt like changing things up, so I did. People loved it (or so they said).

Middle School

In middle school, I was pretty much the same as before in terms of expression. I still had my half-shave (although the longer side had begun to grow out a lot more) and wore masculine clothing. A lot of sweatpants, khakis, and hoodies. At this point, I was rejecting femininity so hard that I "hated" the color pink. I was completely out of touch with my feminine side.

Although I was a little bit different than a lot of the other girls, I made friends pretty easily within my first week of 6th grade. I still mostly had friendships with girls and I found most guys insufferable to be around and talk to (lol). These girls were, again, rather feminine and paid a lot of attention to their outfits, hair, and nails. Again, I didn't pay much attention to any of this in myself. My friends never made comments about it because it was so normal to them. However, this is when I really started pondering gender. I knew about transgender people, so I really thought about it. I ended up coming out to my friends as transgender and a boy. But within a couple weeks, I realized that I didn't really feel that much like a boy. It didn't make me comfortable.

I had many moments like this from 6th to 8th grade, wondering if I was a girl or a boy. Those were the only things I knew people could be, so I didn't think of any other option. It didn't really start to change until around 8th grade.

My 8th grade year was weird. First things first, I ended up getting a new haircut because my half-shave was getting boring and I stopped liking it. My hair got cut really short, like a guy's. This is when I realized I was having a lot of body issues. I hated my chest, and it made wearing masculine clothes a real struggle because it never looked how I wished it did. Then, Covid hit. After schools got shut down in March, we started doing online school. I started being on social media a lot more because everything got shut down and there was basically nothing else to do at home (in my mind as a 13 year old). I started learning so much more about gender and sexuality through the internet. I made a bunch of online friends and I started seeing more people's experiences and stories. I learned what "gender non-conforming" and "nonbinary" and "personal pronouns" were. At first though, I still didn't feel like I identified with any of that. I finished 8th grade year still identifying as a girl. Over the summer, I got a binder to help with my dysphoria.

High School

In 9th grade, we went back to school, but only for half the week. Half of the week was in person, half was online. I still had a lot of time at home to ponder my gender. I ended up trying out being a boy again, but I only did this with my close online friends. I didn't "come out" but rather told them I was experimenting. I went by Evan and he/she pronouns for a while. I didn't really like they/them pronouns at the time. In school though, I was still a girl with a feminine name. After a few months of this online experimenting, I realized it didn't make me as comfortable as I thought it might. Instead, I started introducing myself to people with a shortening of my birthname and went by any pronouns. By the end of 9th grade, I was still kind of confused.

Over the summer and into my sophomore year, I really started identifying with nonbinary. I had feminine traits and masculine traits. I stopped pushing away femininity so much in my actions and interests, but I still dressed masculine and had short hair. Although I did start growing it out just a bit. In school, I would introduce myself in classes with the shortening of my name. I started telling people that I went by they/them and I was nonbinary. This was the year that I also came out to my parents in terms of gender. My mom had been having suspicions. When it was time for her to fill out forms for the information on my driver's permit, she asked me whether I wanted an F, M, or X on it as my sex. I told me I wanted the X, and that was it. She didn't question anything or say anything, just wrote it down. She told my dad (which I have no qualms about), and he never questioned it either.

Now, in junior year, I have never embraced myself so much. My parents call me by the shortening of my name, as well as everyone else. People refer to me as they/them. It took my parents a while to get used to, and they still make mistakes, but they always put in effort. Sometimes they forget and say the wrong thing, sometimes they correct themselves, sometimes they get it right the first time. I'm okay with all of that because I know they're trying. I also feel this way about anyone else that makes errors or doesn't understand. I'm always willing to explain what "nonbinary" means and how to use they/them pronouns for someone. I've grown out my hair a bunch, to the point where it's a subtle mullet/shaggy type of vibe. I still bind and wear mostly masculine clothing, but I throw in feminine flair to make it more androgynous (like painted nails, a turtleneck, earrings). I'm much more in touch with all sides of myself and I don't suppress anything in terms of expression. I am unapologetically myself, and I'm so happy with my appearance and who I've become.

Final Thoughts

If you're struggling with your gender identity, there is no shame in experimenting. Have someone you trust try out different pronouns and names on you. Feel it out. It could take a long time, but you will figure it out and find something that makes you comfortable. You might find certain things affirming at some points, and then they could start to make you uncomfortable again. That's okay. But you will find who you are. You won't be confused forever.

If you're young and thinking of coming out but are scared, I understand completely. My situation was very fortunate, but not everyone's is. If your parents have expressed hatred towards transgender people and you think they would be physically harmful to you or would kick you out if you came out, don't do it. It sucks, but your physical safety comes first. If your parents have never really discussed the LGBTQ+ community and you're unsure of how they would react, feel it out. Don't let the focus be on you. Tell them over dinner that someone at school came out as transgender that you didn't expect (don't give a name of anyone you actually know) and see how they navigate that. If it feels unsafe, don't do it. If they seem to be relatively okay with it, come out when you're ready. Even if they aren't fully accepting at first, they will most likely come around eventually, knowing that you're their child and they love you. Above all else though, do it when you're ready. Don't feel like you have to absolutely force yourself when you're not prepared for it.

You are loved, you are strong, you are worthy.

[prince-bayani]

My mentality towards my transness over time

Maybe I'll put this stuff in a book one day. Just needed to write these words down somewhere.

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6 - Hmm. I feel like a boy. I want to wear boy clothes. I want to play with boys. I wish I had a penis. I wish I could wear boxers. I wish I could wear swimming trunks and walk around shirtless in the summer time.

I get scolded when I express my masculinity. I don't like being scolded. I'm ashamed of this part of me because it brings disapproval. I learn to be embarrassed. I need to hide this and never tell anyone. My mom isn't gonna like this. My grandma definitely isn't gonna like it. My classmates will be mean to me. I don't have a penis. I can't change how I was born. In school they tell us that Jesus loves us just the way we are, and that God doesn't make mistakes. I just need to stop thinking about this until I forget.

If God doesn't make mistakes then why did he make me like this? Why didn't he just make me a boy? He probably did this to me as a punishment. Maybe before I was born, back when I was still a spirit living in heaven, maybe I did something that made him mad. Maybe if I can be good, then he'll make me a boy again next time.

10- For the first time ever, I see people with a similar experience to me. On Maury / Jerry Springer. This reinforces my hunch that being trans makes me a freakshow and the butt of jokes. These people are all trans women and are very deep-voiced and clocky. I learn that people will always be able to tell that I'm trans and therefore it's not worth trying to transition. Around this time I also see trans people on Oprah. It's less of a freakshow but the focus is mainly on surgery and struggles. I learn that being trans is painful and scary and full of surgeries. I'm scared of surgeries. I promise myself that I'll never get surgery unless there's an accident and I need a life-saving procedure. But I don't like being treated like a girl. I don't like dressing as a girl. When my mom takes me shopping for clothes I look at the mannequins on the boys' side and feel jealousy and yearning. I wish I could buy clothes from the boys side. But I'm scared to ask. And I'm embarrased and ashamed. What if people see me looking at boy clothes? It's hard finding clothes that I like. I'm angry that the clothes in the girl section are so...girly. Even when I find pants and tshirts. They're always super skinny jeans and jeggings, and crop-tops and curve-hugging shirts with v-necks. (Thanks 2010s fashion.) Why does everyone assume that just because I'm a girl I have to be girly? It makes me so angry. But don't call me a tomboy. That will invite teasing and alienation. I'm just, i don't know...a different type of girl, I guess. I'm not the weird one. Everyone is just wrong about what a girl is supposed to be like. I wonder what type of woman I'll be when I grow up?

12 - I start to learn about puberty. Maybe the estrogen from puberty will make me normal. Will help me to feel okay as a girl. I don't like that my chest is developing. I like having a flat chest. But in my sex-ed class I learned that it's natural to feel that way, and that many girls don't like going through puberty. It's normal to feel awkward about puberty. It's normal to feel awkward about your body changing. So I just need to not think about it too much. I'll figure it out eventually. Again I wish I could press fast-forward on my life and see how I figure this all out. How do I be a woman while still being me? Without feeling like I'm just playing a role?

14 - Puberty is in full swing. My hormones are raging. I'm horny. Well I'm a female, so that means I need to take it out on boys. I need to have crushes on boys. I need to wear my hair long, like a girl. If I keep wearing ponytails every day I'll start to stand out from the rest of the girls. People are gonna start to make assumptions about me, and treat me badly. Or laugh at me behind my back. Now is the time that I'm finally gonna embrace being female, and grow out of my masculinity. I'm gonna make a full attempt to figure out what kind of girl I am and where I fit into society as myself.

God doesn't make mistakes. I just need to try harder to be a girl. I promise myself again that I'll never be transgender. I'll never get surgeries, because that would be disrespectful to God.

15, 16 - God clearly made me this way as a joke. He knows I have the "personality of a guy". He just has a cruel sense of humor. He made me a lion in sheep's clothing. I lean into the joke. Most people know me as a girl with big dick energy.

18 - I feel like my puberty is incomplete. I still find myself waiting for my voice to drop. My voice cracks from time to time and I get excited about that.

I still can't bring myself to wear dresses or be feminine. My highschool has uniforms, so I can wear the uniform skirts without thinking too hard about it because that's the school policy. They gave me a formula to follow so that I don't have to think too hard about how to express my gender. Female students must wear skirts, so that's what I do. But when I go to college I'll have to figure out how to dress like a girl on my own. There's no unform. No formula to follow.

Prom happens at the end of highschool. I don't want to go but I'm begged by my mother and my friends. So I give in. I go to Sephora and a gay guy does my makeup. He does a great job, I look like a model. I don't even recognize myself. I show up in a dress. Everyone loves it. I want to disappear. To be invisible.

19 - I'm going to college. It's time to grow up and become a woman - or a young lady, at least. I should look 19 now, not 10. I buy some skirts and blouses from the women's section. I buy makeup and start watching makeup tutorials. I start watching "glow-up" videos, looking for a formula on how to present as a woman and be comfortable in my skin. That's what is praised, to be pretty and grown up. A young-adult version of myself. But the skirts stay in the back of my closet. I can't bring myself to wear them. I try the makeup for the first 2 months of school, and then I decide it's a waste of time. It stays in the makeup pouch which collects dust on my shelf. I don't feel myself.

20 - I go back to wearing jeans, tshirts and sweatshirts. I feel much better.

21 - Maybe I'm a masculine woman. I give myself permission to embrace my masculinity in the ways that I know how. I finally go to the barber and get that lineup I always wanted. I go to the Dominicans and get a taper fade. I wear boxers. Damn, it feels way more correct wearing boxers. I never realized how much of a different it makes. Why didn't I do this sooner?? Holy shit I'll never go back to wearing panties.

I look at interviews / vlogs / podcasts posted by masculine women, learning about their coming-of-age and how they came into themselves. I watch some glow up videos of mascs / studs. What we have in common is being born female and feeling most aligned when embracing our masculinity, presenting in masculine fashion. Where we're different is dysphoria. What I often saw these women say in their videos is "I don't want to be a man. I know I'm not a man. I don't want a deep voice, or a beard, or a penis. I'm happy with my body. I'm happy with being a female and all that comes with it." All these women were saying the same thing. Well, I do want a deeper voice. I do want a dick. I want to pee standing up. I wish I had gone through male puberty. I want to be male. Maybe I'm not cis. Maybe...maybe I'm trans?

22- I start to watch interviews and vlogs from trans men. Bingo. This is exactly how I feel. These experiences sound like what I went through. I think to myself, "I'd go on testosterone if I could disappear off the face of the earth and start my life over with a different identity."

23 - I'm trans. I don't have to disappear off the face of the earth and start my life over in a different country. I live in a big blue liberal city. Actually I live in the birthplace of the modern lgbt movement. The doctors and trans healthcare here is some of the best in this country. I know it's a journey but I'm ready to work on accepting myself. I'm ready to start making steps towards transitioning and starting on testosterone.

24 - I'm a man. I'm a trans man. Key-word: man. There is nuance to my experience. That's valuable. Sometimes I get dysphoric but at least I know what's going on. At least I have a word to describe what I'm dealing with, and that makes it easier to deal with. Now I have a regimen for what to do when I feel dysphoric. And that makes a huge difference for me.

Years ago I never would've thought that I'd be where I am, living my truth like this. I thought I would bring my secret to the grave.

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[denim-mixtapes]

Ain't No Hope in Hell | Nothing's Gonna Bring Us Down (Eddie Munson/Reader Smut)

Rating: E - Explicit Word Count: 4,702 Pairing: Eddie Munson/F!Reader Description:

When you walk in on your boyfriend cheating on you, confirming your suspicious, you only have one thing in mind.

Go out, have some fun, get some sweet revenge.

But being impulsive was never your strong suit, so you pay a visit to the worst influence you know, your childhood friend Eddie Munson, hoping he can sell you some courage.....and maybe help out with that revenge fuck too.

Originally posted to my AO3 on 7/3/22, this isn't copied, my friends just finally convinced me to make a tumblr.

The rapping at the trailer’s storm door grows louder and more demanding by the second, your knuckles burning, but you refuse to back down. Exasperated, you switch it up and give the door a harsh kick with the toe of your sneaker, groaning loudly. 

“Munson I swear to god, I’ll knock this damn door down myself if you don’t wake your ass up!” Another frustrated groan escapes your lungs as you take in your surroundings. His van is in the driveway, as is the half disassembled Harley he hasn’t been able to drive since his first senior year. Jumping off the set of stairs and walking around back to what should be his bedroom window, you can hear Motörhead’s Bomber on the other side of the wall, confirming your assumption that he must be home. 

“HEY!” You shout again pounding your fist on the glass once, then again with his name, “Munson!” 

A startled, “Jesus Christ,” comes in response, followed by a squawk and a commotion that can only be a startled body falling to the floor. Soon enough, though, you’re met with the wild, sleep-mussed hair and displeased scowl of Eddie Munson on the other side of the glass. His expression softens ever so slightly when he sees who it is knocking on his window at almost midnight, but he’s still sporting a tight-lipped frown as he throws the window open. “Well if it isn’t the girl next door…” His gaze flicks down to the ruffled denim skirt hitting the tops of your knees and then back to your face, “What the hell are you doing here?” 

You scoff, “Please, I haven’t lived next door to you in years, that nickname hardly fits the bill anymore.” 

He chuckles this time, rolling his eyes and leaning his elbows heavily on the windowsill, once again assessing your outfit and styled hair. It’s a far cry from the punky little tomboy he once knew, and he definitely doesn’t plan on letting you live it down anytime soon. “Well maybe not in the technical sense, but if the, uh,” another peek down to your sneakers, “Sperrys fit…”

“Whatever, move, I’m coming in.” 

There’s no time for protest from him before you push his elbows from the ledge and pull yourself up and into the room. The remnants of cigarette smoke and pot hit your nostrils as soon as you cross the threshold. Worn clothes and pizza boxes break your fall when you tumble inside. Eddie is crossing the room to turn down the music, and if he’s bothered by your sudden intrusion, he doesn’t seem to show it. 

While you stand and right yourself, dusting figurative (and probably literal) filth off of your skirt, Eddie makes his way back to his bed and throws himself onto it unceremoniously. “So,” he retrieves a half smoked blunt from the ashtray on the nightstand, lights it up, and takes a slow drag, breathing his following question out with the billow of smoke. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

Rocking back and forth from foot to foot, your fists ball up at your sides. 

This is stupid. This is so stupid. 

You aren’t friends. Not anymore. You haven’t spoken more than a word in passing in the hallway to this kid in over 9 years, not since your family came into a little bit of money and moved out of the trailer park in your 4th grade year. So what made you think he would hear you out? Listen to your sob story and take pity on you and make you some sort of deal? 

A choked out sigh escapes your lungs when he raises his eyebrows at your silence. 

“I need-” tears spring to your eyes and you will them to go away, to little success. “Fuck- I just…I need weed, dude. Or beer, or some company? I don’t even know?” 

In seconds, his cool, aloof demeanor dissolves and Eddie “The Freak” Munson is gone. In his place are the soft eyes and warm heart of that curly haired kid you used to skip rocks with in the river. “Shit, well here,” He leaps to his feet, crossing the room to you with the joint outstretched toward you. “I mean I’ll get you whatever you need to take home too but you look like you need this more than I do.” 

The tears finally spill out when you reply with a watery, “that bad, huh?” Instead of taking the joint, you brush past him and fall heavily onto the edge of his bed. You swear again. “I was supposed to be angry! I was supposed to fly over here in a blind rage and do this drug deal and, I dunno – go out and fuck somebody! I was supposed to be selfish and do shit to enjoy myself and be reckless! Not…this,” Eddie stares in concern as you wipe more tears from your cheeks. “God, I’m an idiot.” 

“Whoa, whoa, hey-” He follows, sitting on the edge of the bed with you and bumping his knee into yours, “Slow down, take a breath. I think I’m missing a chapter here. Why are we angry?” 

The use of we makes you chuckle through your tears. You stare at your hands, fingers twisting together subconsciously, and rest your head on his shoulder.

When you speak, it’s to the floor. “Walked in on my bastard boyfriend cheating on me.” Eddie tenses beneath you, but lets you continue. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. The signs were all there. I pretty much knew , but seeing it really sucked. So I thought, okay, no worries, just go out and do something crazy. Get revenge immediately , so you don’t have time to be sad about it, but being reckless was never really my thing, so I figured I would need something to take the edge off first-”

“And who better to get you that something than Eddie the freak, huh?” 

It’s your turn to soften your expression at his words. 

“Well, no, not in so many words. I just happened to hear on the grapevine that you could help with that sort of thing. I mean, it's no real secret what you do in those woods behind the school…and I knew where to find you.” 

Both of you laugh at that. He was always a little dramatic and quick to take offense, but you suppose that’s easily done when the whole town uses him for target practice. Another few moments of quiet pass, until he lets out another light chuckle and rests his head atop yours. “Have you ever even been high before?” 

Your “yes!” is a little too quick and incredibly telling. 

“So no, then?” He asks, a tease behind his words. 

Your head falls into your hands, embarrassed, “yeah, no.” 

“So what did you think was going to happen when I sold to you?” Another laugh, “what were you gonna do, go to the library at midnight and look up ‘drug use’ in the encyclopedia?” 

“I don’t know,” you sigh, “I guess I wasn’t thinking.” 

Eddie doesn't know what it is that makes him want to help. The sale was dangling right in front of him the whole time, he could just make the sale and send you on your way, after all it shouldn’t matter to him what’s done with the weed once the money is in his hands. But it does. He can sense your frustration and Hell knows he’s been there himself, so he finds himself giving a sigh of his own and reaching under the bed for his little black tackle box. 

“Alright, c'mon!” He exclaims, scooting up the bed and turning to face you, cross legged. He pats the spot on the mattress opposite him and flicks open the box. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. We are gonna get you high, get you feelin’ good, and then - if you so choose - I can send you on your merry way for your little revenge fuck.” 

That makes you bark out a laugh, but his eyes are twinkling wish mischief, and it’s exactly the push you need to stop whining and do something about your foul mood. You turn to him and tuck your feet under you, watching as he pulls items from the box between you. 

He rolls a fresh joint, packing it and explaining himself as he goes, should you want to do this for yourself next time. You listen intently, ever the good student, and nod along with his explanation, up until he brings the joint to his mouth to seal it. Maybe it’s just the amusement in his expression, or the proud smirk, knowing he’s at least somewhat responsible for your foray into rebellion (even if it is as minor as illicit drug use), but when his tongue darts out to wet the paper, you’re transfixed. 

“Got it?” 

His question startles you from your focus on his mouth, and you can feel your cheeks heating, hoping to God he didn’t notice. Giving a little nod, you say, “yeah, think so.” 

“Rock on,” he grins wide, lighting it before quickly passing it your way. “Ladies first.” 

You pluck the joint from between his fingers, and hesitate as you bring it to your lips. Unsure of what to expect, but not wanting to turn back now, you decide to just go for it and inhale with a little too much false confidence and enthusiasm. The smoke burns as it fills your lungs, clawing at your throat on the way down and sending you into a fit of coughs. 

“Ah, shit,” he rasps, lumbering over you and off the foot of the bed, leaving you confused and still coughing alone in his room. He returns quickly and presses a plastic cup of water into your palm, rubbing between your shoulder blades soothingly. “I should have known that was going to happen, Christ. My bad.” 

It takes another few moments for you to calm down from fits of coughs to small hiccups, sipping on the water gently with even more redness in your cheeks. When it finally stops, you giggle and pinch the bridge of your nose, “so that was wrong, right?” 

“Not….wrong,” he laughs, “just not ideal. I have an idea, here…” He knocks the lid closed on the box and sets it to the floor, then comes back to a kneel in front of you. “Have you ever heard of shotgunning?” 

“Beer, yes,” you furrow your brow, “and I’m no expert but I'm almost positive that it doesn’t work the same here.”

Wrinkles sprout in the corners of Eddie’s eyes when he smiles at your comment. He’s holding back a laugh, you can tell. “You would be correct.” 

“Alright, enlighten me.” 

“Gladly.” He takes the joint back from your grasp and sits back on his heels. “This will help take a little bit of that sting away, and it might actually help you start slowly, since this is your first time. It’s always a little weaker on the receiving end.” 

Raising an eyebrow, you repeat, “receiving?”

The mischief is back in his expression, brighter than before, and he nods. “So I’m gonna take a hit, right? And then - here’s the uncomfortable part - we’ll have to get real close, and as I exhale, you’ll inhale. Kind of like an asthma inhaler, except unprescribed and way more fun.” He grins wider when you giggle at his joke. “Sound okay?” 

“I think, I guess just lead the way and we’ll see,” you answer with a shrug and shift up onto your own knees to get on his level. 

You can feel your heart in your throat as you watch him bring the joint to his lips and take a deep pull. With his free hand he reaches out for you, palm resting on the side of your neck and pulling you toward him. You’re acutely aware of his nails scratching absently at the nape of your neck, and the cool bite of his rings against your jawline. He stops just centimeters from your lips and lets the smoke billow towards you. Your breath hitches as you remember what you’re meant to be doing, and you inhale much slower this time. It’s dizzying, but you’re not sure if it's the buzz or Eddie’s proximity. When he’s finished his breath, he stays put for just a beat longer, looking down at you with lidded eyes and a lazy smirk. 

“Better?” He asks, dropping his hand and pulling away before things get weird. But you’re rooted in place, still sitting up on your knees and your eyes still closed. 

Biting your lip, you can’t help but smile at the pleasant buzz that fills your head without the distraction of choking this time. “Much.” 

“Cool.” The tape clicks in the player as it comes to an end, and he points toward it, wordlessly signaling that he’s going to go change it. As he flips through a messy pile of tapes, trying to decide which one best fits the mood, you move up to the head of the bed to lean against the wall. Motörhead is replaced with what you think is Metallica, but it must be their newest album because you can’t quite place it, and before you know it he’s joining you on the bed again. “Wanna go again?” 

You nod with an eager smile, and he mirrors it. 

That’s how things go for quite some time, passing time between hits with music and comfortable quiet. At one point Eddie asks if you wanna give it a go on your own again, but your only response is to wrinkle your nose at him. If he’s bothered by your need for his help, he doesn’t ever show it, only smiles wider and wider as he leans in to fill your lungs with smoke. You never quite get used to the way he holds your face or neck as he passes the smoke from his lips to yours. He didn’t really have to guide you after the first time, but there’s something about his grip on your face that pools warm in your stomach, so you keep letting it happen. 

By the time the joint has burnt down to nearly nothing, you’re comfortably loose. Your limbs feel heavy but your mind is clear, if anything maybe a little impulsive. Exactly what you had set out to do. 

On the last drag, Eddie’s thumb strokes your cheekbone, not yet pulling away after you take in the last of the smoke. 

“So how are ya feeling?” He asks, his voice gravelly and the hint of a laugh behind it. “Still sad? Pissed? Ready to go out and fuck someone?” 

The last question is a joke, you can tell from his tone, but he’s even closer now, and as he teases you, his lips just barely brush yours. You definitely didn’t mean for that whimper to come out audibly. His fingers flex against your skin, his other hand tentatively reaching out to rest on your waist. 

“Maybe I don’t have to go out looking for someone?” You ask, looking at him from under your lashes. It’s not the most clever line you’ve come up with, but it does the trick. He swallows thickly and gives a tight nod before the hand on your cheek moves to tangle posessively in your hair as he closes the gap between you. His lips devour yours hungrily, and your arms wind around his neck, desperately trying to pull yourself as close to him as possible. His tongue darts out, seeking permission at the seam of your lips, and you gladly open up to him, letting out a soft moan as his tongue explores your mouth. 

Your skin is flushed and hot, the air around you sticky. He smells like leather and tastes like smoke and you can’t get enough, reaching up to fist your hands in his hair. When you tug on it, he breaks the kiss with a needy groan and rests his forehead on your own, both of you breathing raggedly. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? Not that I’m not happy to oblige…” the hand on your waist travels downward to palm at your ass and pull you against this growing arousal, and he smirks, “I just don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.” 

Tipping his chin up with your forefinger, you shake your head, “I won’t regret shit.” Then, sitting back on your heels, you unbutton your sweater, shrug it off, and toss it aside. You lay against his pillows in just your skirt and baby pink lace bra, and his stare heats you from the inside out. 

Eddie lets out a long breath as he takes in the expanse of your stomach and exposed collarbone, biting back a lopsided smile and muttering, “you minx.” He reaches back to pull his Hellfire tee over his head, revealing a smattering of patchwork tattoos across his torso. Mesmerized, you reach out to caress the ink across his sternum and down his stomach, his muscles twitching beneath your touch. He doesn’t let that go on for too long, however. He’s itching to get his hands on you, and swiftly grips your wrists in one hand and holds them high above your head. “Not so fast, sweetheart,” he warns playfully, caging your hips in with his knees and leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “keep ‘em up.” 

You shudder at the command, but keep your hands in place as he lets go and starts to make his way down your body, leaving a trail of kisses and nips in his wake. Every inch of skin he sees, he works over with his mouth. He licks a deliberate stripe up the column of your throat, inhaling your scent in the crook of your neck. His teeth catch on your collarbone, soothing over the nip with his tongue.Your skin pinks wherever he goes, flushing at the attention. When he makes it to your bra, he smiles coyly up at you, twirling his finger in the ribbons of the little bow where the cups meet. “How cute,” he chuckles, trailing his finger up along one cup, before hooking into each one and yanking them down, exposing your breasts to the cool night air. 

Your nipples pebble at the chill, but it isn’t long before his mouth is on you, sucking a dark purple mark into the swell of your breast, dragging his tongue across the sensitive bud, and moving to give attention to the other side. Every swipe of his tongue and nick of his teeth is sending waves of pleasure straight to your core. You press your thighs together in an attempt to quell the ache, but it does no good.

Eddie moves lower still, laving kisses down your sternum, across your stomach, dipping his tongue into your navel, and drinking up every last whine and desperate sound you make. 

When he reaches your skirt, he pauses, waiting for a nod from you before unbuttoning and dragging it down your thighs. You kick it the rest of the way off, and flush even deeper under his intense stare. 

He’s leaned back on his heels again, hands gently moving up and down your thighs with featherlight touches. “You’re incredible,” he muses, shaking out his hair with a dreamy smile, and bends so that he’s face to face with the wet spot on your panties. He whispers again, “fucking beautiful,” before mouthing at your mound through the slick fabric. 

You let out a wild moan involuntarily, before realizing what he’s doing, and cut yourself off. Running your fingers through his hair you mumble, “wait, no, you don’t have to…do that.” 

He looks at you quizzically, concern and confusion in his eyes, but he retreats nonetheless. “Do you not like it?” 

“Well, no, I don’t know…” you mumble again, “but isn’t it…gross?” 

A new emotion, anger flares in Eddie's eyes as it dawns on him what you’re implying. “Are you telling me that asshole never went down on you? Because he finds it gross ?” The scoff that follows is borderline offended. 

You cover your face, burning red under his scrutiny. “He said everyone felt that way. Made me feel ashamed for being curious about it. I don't know, its stupid. You don’t have to do it.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” his eyes darken as his gaze falls to your panties once again. He toys with the waistband absently and smiles, “all the more reason for me to do it.” He places a kiss at the inside of your thigh, just above the knee. “What if I told you…” Another one, higher now. “...I don’t just like eating pussy…” And another, just below your hip, he bites down harder on the sensitive flesh and soothes it with a swipe of his tongue. “...but I fucking love it?” He doesn’t move to go any further, but awaits your response and looks at you eagerly from his spot between your legs. “Would you let me do it then?” 

With a shaky breath, you take your bottom lip between your teeth and nod, completely unsure of what you’ve gotten yourself into. 

Now that he has your permission, he’s wasting no time dragging the ruined fabric down your legs and returning to his spot between them. He stares at your core with hunger in his eyes and a look of pride. Reaching out to spread your lips, he bites his lip with glee. “Fuck, baby,” he groans, “you’re so wet.” You’re unsure how to respond, or if you even should, but luckily he leaves you no time to. No faster than the words left his mouth, he leans in and licks a long, flat stripe up your cunt, circling when he reaches your clit and making you cry out. 

This sensation is all new, and you jolt when he repeats the action, savoring every reaction he can pull from you. You gasp as his tongue dips into you, and the bastard actually laughs, puffing warm air against your wet folds before moving back up to tongue at your clit. 

He drags two fingers up and down through your juices teasingly, and only when you let out a desperate whine does he thrust them both into you, pumping them in and out and stroking your walls with a come-hither motion. He licks and sucks and draws patterns with his tongue around his fingers like a man starved. Thick, heavy rings bump your lips as he pumps his fingers, and the cold metal is an intoxicating contrast to his hot mouth. 

“ Eddie! ” You cry his name, forgetting your previous orders and reaching down to tangle your hands in his hair in an attempt to bring him even closer. He doesn’t argue, only groans into your core, the vibrations from the sound spurring your further on. 

It doesn’t take long before it all becomes too much, there are too many sensations, your orgasm building too fast. You barely utter out a weak, “ Eddie, I'm gonna- ,” in warning before your thighs are tensing around him and you’re crying out your release with a firm grip on his locks.

He works you through your orgasm, letting up but not fully stopping until your thighs stop shaking and your breathing returns to normal. Even then, he places a final, soft kiss directly on your clit that has you clenching around nothing as he withdraws his fingers. 

Crawling back up your body with a shit eating grin and licking your release from his fingers, Eddie fucking Munson has the audacity to ask, “So what do you think now?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumble with a breathy laugh and pull him down for another hungry kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and his chin is still wet with your release, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. As he licks into your mouth, he grinds his hips down into yours, and you moan at the contact, his cock hard and wanting behind the barrier of his sweatpants. “ I think, ” you gasp into his neck, “I think I need you inside me, Munson.” 

“That can be arranged,” he growls, nipping at your lower lip before reaching out to search the bedside table. 

In a move that’s so incredibly Eddie Munson, he kicks off his sweatpants and briefs clumsily, making you giggle at his struggle, but silences you quickly with a stern look. 

You take a moment to collect yourself, breathing deeply and looking up at the ceiling as he tears into the condom packet with his teeth. You don’t know when you closed your eyes, but his lips on yours are a delightful surprise, as is the head of his cock notching perfectly at your entrance, making you gasp. He tugs on your lip again, breathing out, “you ready, sweetheart?” 

“Fuck,” you mumble, and nod vigorously, groaning out a soft, “ yes .”

He fills you slowly, letting you adjust to his size until he’s fully sheathed inside you. You both let out a simultaneous moan when he bottoms out, his far more restrained than yours, and his forehead falls to rest on yours. His hands bring yours above your head once again, and he pulls out just as slowly, only to thrust back into you so hard you scream. Shifting his grip on your wrists to one hand, he reaches down to caress your cheek as he fucks into you relentlessly. He’s at the perfect angle for the head of his cock to stroke your g-spot on every pass, and it has you breathless. Your pleasure pools in your belly, threatening to snap at any moment. 

Eddie’s thumb strokes at your bottom lip, tugging. You wrap your lips around his thumb, swirling your tongue around the tip, and he groans, looking up to the ceiling, his hips stuttering. 

You let out a soft, “ please, ” as he reaches for your clit, thumbing at the bundle of nerves, working in tandem with his cock. 

“I know, baby, I know,” he whispers, engulfing your mouth with his own and moaning into the kiss as your walls flutter around him. “Let go for me,” he urges, his movements becoming more erratic by the second. He won’t be far behind you. 

Your second orgasm shatters through you, and you whine his name. Your hands fist in the sheets above you, unable to move anywhere else in Eddie’s grasp, and you gasp, your vision blurring out of focus as he fucks you through your high. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, shuddering as he thrusts once, twice, three more times and stills inside you, biting your neck with his release. 

Letting go of your hands, he giggles as he grips your chin and pulls you into a surprisingly chaste kiss, he actually giggles, and you can’t help but dissolve into a fit of laughter with him. 

You whine at the feeling of emptiness when he pulls out, but your cheeks are warm and he kisses your forehead, telling you to wait here before he ducks out of the room again and returns with a warm wet washcloth. 

With a teasing tone, you toe at his thigh as he gently cleans you up. “You know, I didn’t take you for the – mmh,” you pause for a needy moan as he strokes your overstimunlated cunt with the cloth, “the gentlemanly type.”

Throwing the towel toward the closet, he chuckles, “yeah, well. I’m full of surprises.” He crawls under the covers, lifting an edge for you to crawl into, and asks, “you wanna stay? Or…?” The vulnerability in his voice squeezes at your heart, and you do take his offer, curling into his chest and tracing the ink on his skin absently with the tip of your finger. 

“ And I get to stay the night?” You giggle, “you do this after all your drug deals, Munson?”

There’s a long pause, and a content sigh that you can feel deep in his chest. He kisses the crown of your head and runs his fingers through your hair, then laughs out his response. “Only the ones I really like.”

[tuiyla]

So I’m currently having some feels about Santana’s lyrics in “At the Ballet” and can’t decide whether to accept this as canon or not in terms of what her relationship with her Dad was like. On the one hand, beautiful angst. Love that for me. On the other hand, not every glee song lyric was meant to be taken literally in relation to the character singing it, so obviously context is key. Buuuuut the context of that song is that ballet was an escape for them all, so… maybe that is what her Dad was like??

Anyway, I’m stuck in a loop and thought you might have an opinion on that particular performance as it relates to Santana’s family life? Maybe you don’t, but if you do I’d be interested in hearing it!

Oh same, always. And I always have opinions on everything Santana says, does and sings 😌

I'm always on the fence about Mr/Dr Lopez and the general Lopez family dynamic myself. Like yeah, we never see him and Lights Out has a few hints at a more strained relationship, but do I think Glee was just lazy and didn't bother casting him and that's why he wasn't at the wedding for example? Yeah. And even things like him being a doctor were mentioned exactly once, and who knows is the writers even remembered that half as well as the fandom does. I doubt they did. So most of what we have is At the Ballet. Gorgeous beautiful performance btw and deserves more credit. The vocals, the dress, the Pezberry long note? Exquisite.

I'm with you because I'd love the angst and it is the most we have to go on, but I also kinda don't want the lyrics to be entirely representative, to be literal? Like yeah I love angst, but do I want her dad to be like that? :/ My personal interpretation is to not take the words Santana's singing literally but to keep in mind, like, the general vibe of it. Like you say, the context is about ballet being an escape and Santana remembering a time, the first time, when performing was a happy place. So stands to reason it'd be a happy place and escape from something, right?

The way I like to think about At the Ballet and negotiate it with Santana's family life is to take the general feeling it conveys. I also like to think it might be a case of the unreliable narrator? With good reason, because Santana is expressing childhood memories where how she felt might not have 100% reflected reality but was valid nonetheless because that's just how she felt. So what I mean is that maybe Dr Lopez never cheated on Maribel and wasn't as cold and generally a shitty dad as the song would imply. But maybe he was a bit distant. Maybe he didn't know how to best express to Santana, or Maribel for that matter, that he cared about them. Maybe he studied/worked a lot and maybe he wasn't too emotionally open and vulnerable. No surprise, if Alma was indeed Santana's paternal grandmother. That would fit with how I headcanon him anyway.

So I think it's possible for the lyrics not to be taken literally but, simultaneously, for the general feelings to be taken seriously. Maybe he cared more than came across to Santana and I think that matters in the long run because they could have a better relationship once she's an adult. But it also doesn't change the fact that, growing up, Santana didn't exactly feel close to him and that “I was such a tomboy and it really pissed my dad off” comment doesn’t bode well. I’d like to imagine Dr Lopez as someone who wanted to but didn’t know how to even try with his daughter. I think there’s a theme of noncomformity with the Lopez family - how could there not be, what with Santana’s story being a fundamentally queer one.

It’s apparent in the way Alma rejects Santana, not even for being a lesbian as such but for not repressing it. The sin is in the scandal. So I’m side-tracking a bit but I think Dr Lopez didn’t want his daughter to be all that different, to be the Other, as a misguided attempt to protect her from the world and it resulted in a distance between the two. Maybe even in Santana feeling like she couldn’t be herself at home. And then there’s an interesting tension there because it also resulted in ballet and dancing, which Santana says made her feel “not different”. So it reinforces that conformity her family wanted for her, but it’s also an early creative outlet that made her feel safe and like she was a part of something. And that very thing is what later makes Glee special and leads her to become more herself, more open and vulnerable.

But going back to the Lopez family, maybe the parts of the song about her parents’ relationship could also express that Maribel embraced Santana’s nonconformity more from the beginning, as it’s implied during the Breadstix Goodbye scene. And I could see convos about that between the parents coming off to a child in a way that’s expressed in the song. Like her dad thought he was above her mom, stuff like that. It’s not necessarily what happened but kids overhear arguments and misinterpret them all the time, or internalize them in ways that don’t reflect reality. All of this is pure speculation based on the song and what I think of the Lopez family dynamic, of course. Just trying to fit into the non-existent Glee canon. But the bottom line is that I wouldn’t take At the Ballett literally but do think there’s an emotional truth to it. Even if Dr Lopez wasn’t actually like that, it’s how he came across to his daughter and that stuff matters, no matter his intentions.

Glee's non-diegetic songs will always haunt me haha. Because at least when it's a choir room performance or something we can be like, sure, the lyrics are to be interpreted loosely. But when it's in the characters' heads it should feel more like a representation of how they're feeling. I think that works in a non-literal way with At the Ballet but it's also why Every Breath You Take will continue to haunt us both because?? What was the reason there??

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Gender? In THIS Economy?

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Duke is questioning stuff and goes to Tim for advice. (feat. trans!Tim and nonbinary!Duke)

“Here you go. One Batburger with extra pickles, extra onions, and extra extra mayonnaise.” Duke drops the paper takeout bag unceremoniously into Tim’s lap. “Your taste buds need a tune-up, bro.”

Tim unwraps his burger and takes a bite. Batburger may be questionable when it comes to copyright laws, but damn if they don’t pile on the condiments better than any fast food restaurant in Gotham. “Sounds to me like you simply haven’t reached the sky-scraping level of enlightenment that I have, grasshopper.”

“Enlightenment would have been going to Red Robin and using your uniform to get a discount,” Duke says. He sits beside Tim on the rooftop’s edge, their legs dangling side by side a hundred feet above Gotham’s plunging gray streets. He digs into his own burger and makes a face. “Enlightenment would also be getting the Robin Nuggets next time. This tastes like dried leather.”

“I like it,” Tim says with a shrug. “It has personality.”

“So does raw sewage, but you don’t see me eating that.”

Tim concedes the point. His communicator buzzes in his belt. He checks the screen and discovers an alert from Cass composed entirely of clown emojis and red harlequin diamonds.

Duke notices. “Should we get that?”

Tim pockets the communicator. “Nah, Spoiler’s got it. We have time to relax.” And he’s not about to pass up quality time with the one little brother who doesn’t hate him. It’s hard enough as it is for Tim and Duke to find the time, what with them being on opposite sleeping schedules and work snatching their attention away with grabby, toddler-sized hands.

“Don’t get a lot of that during the day shift,” Duke says. “Every time an alarm goes off, it’s my business.”

Tim knocks him in the side with his elbow. “That’s what you get for turning to the light side instead of kicking it in the shadows with us. More employees to go around.” He sips his soda for a moment. “Why did you come out tonight, anyway? I thought you stayed in on weeknights.”

“Right. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” Duke says it carefully, like he’s testing the waters. “I need advice.”

Tim has to admit that his chest puffs out a little at that. It’s not often people come to him for advice when Dick and Barbara are right there, all full of adult wisdom that Tim is too pitifully shrimpy to possess. “What’s up?”

“It’s kind of...personal.”

“Yes, Bruce does have special powder for suit-chafing. It’s in the cabinet under the first-aid supplies.”

“It’s not that,” Duke says, though he snorts in half-hearted laughter. He looks down at his hands like he’s dreading the words lodged in his throat. “What was it like, realizing you were a dude?”

One of Tim’s eyebrows shoots up. “Oh.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s an invasive question.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You just caught me off guard, is all.” It’s not like this is the first time someone has asked. Tim used to be uncomfortable talking about it, but he’s grown up since then. Talking about his trans journey is as normal as talking about what he did yesterday. He eats a fry. “What do you want to know?”

Duke searches Tim’s face for a sign that he’s lying, that he should back off. When he doesn’t find one, he asks, “How old were you when you figured it out?”

Tim thinks back. “Nine, I think? But even before that, it’s not like I ever really felt like a girl. I knew there was something wrong, but I didn’t know what. When I first heard about what being transgender meant, everything I’d been feeling until then clicked into place.”

“What was it like?” Duke asks, “growing up the way you did? Presenting as a girl when you knew you weren’t?”

Tim shrugs. “I don’t know. It was life at the time. I dealt with it.”

“Was it hard? Pretending to be something you weren’t?”

Tim doesn’t know what answer Duke is looking for, or why he’s so interested, but he won’t ask. “My parents always had this idea of me being the perfect daughter, all obedient and graceful and crap. I’m pretty sure their hope was to eventually marry me off to the highest bidder so they could reap the business benefits.”

“That sounds awful.”

Tim shrugs again. “I didn’t start feeling any different than I should have until around six or seven. I was always a tomboy. I liked doing boy stuff and playing sports, but my parents thought it was a phase I would grow out of. They’d make me wear dresses and go to fancy parties with them, all the while I just wanted to claw my skin off and go home.”

He remembers the nights he would lie awake in bed, imagining what it must be like to have been born someone else. Anyone else. To grow up as a little boy who was allowed to run around, to get dirty, to be himself instead of following some arbitrary guidelines someone else drew up the day he was born. He imagined what it would feel like to answer to a different name than the one he’d been given, which grated on his ears the longer time went on, like an itchy sweater he couldn’t shed. It was hell.

He gives Duke a sly grin. “But the upside of having absent parents is that there aren’t as many people watching you. No one cared if I went to school in the boy’s uniform instead of the girl’s. No one was there to stop me from cutting my hair short the way I wanted it.”

Duke's eyes widen. “You cut your own hair?”

“It went exactly the way you’re thinking. I had to go to the barber the next day and have them fix it because it was so uneven. But by the end of the day, it was the way I always imagined it. I was finally starting to look like the person I wanted to be.”

Duke stares intently at the remains of his burger as if the universe’s answers to an unspoken question were written in sesame seeds. “Did it get better after that? Did you feel...at peace?”

“‘Course not. The world wasn’t magically fixed just because I took a step in the right direction. My problems didn’t go away.” When he says that, Duke looks almost...disappointed? “But,” Tim adds, “it was better than it was before. I still had to act for my parents and the rest of the world, but I didn’t have to hide from myself anymore.”

“How did your parents react when they found out?”

Tim grimaces. “They...didn’t take it well.” He can still hear his father’s voice in his memories, bringing up therapy and camps and whatever places he could think of that would “fix” his little girl.

“But, after a while,” Tim continues, “it was clear that I wasn’t going to change my mind anytime soon. I guess they figured it would be easier to go along with it than fight me every step of the way. They still didn’t like it, but they tolerated it.”

Duke is quiet.

“Why do you ask?” Tim prods.

Duke’s expression doesn’t give anything away. It’s nights like this when Tim can see how perfectly Duke fits into this mental institution they call a family. For all that Duke thrives in the light, he keeps his cards just as close to his chest as the rest of them. He gives Tim a half-smile. “Just wondering.”

“Okay.”

They fall into weighted silence, the scales tipping on either side of their post, but never settling. Tim waits. He finishes his burger and busies himself with reorganizing the pouches in his belt, giving Duke the privacy to think.

“I don’t know,” Duke starts after several minutes, “if I’m a boy.” He looks at Tim. “I think I might be something else.”

“Okay,” Tim says calmly. “What do you feel like?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve always felt different, y’know? When I was a kid, it was because I was smarter than everyone in my class. And it was fine, because I knew what it was and how it worked and why it was a good thing, being the smart one. It made sense. Time went on, the other kids started catching up, but that mismatched feeling never went away. I never felt right in my skin.”

Duke’s face rises to the dark clouds, the Batsignal shining from the top of the police station like a holy beacon. “Then I met Batman. My powers started to come in and everything clicked into place, all at once. That was why I never felt like I fit in with everyone else, because I was different. I had powers. That must have been it.”

“But it wasn’t,” Tim guesses.

Duke shakes his head. “I thought it would be. I mean, what else could it have been, you know? It should have explained why I never felt at home in my identity. But time goes on, I learn how to use my powers, and it fixes some of it, but not everything. There’s still part of me that looks in the mirror and sees something off. Some detail out of place.”

“Do you feel like a girl?” Tim ventures to ask.

Duke folds over the corner of his straw wrapper again and again in tiny triangles. “Nah, I doubt it. I like some feminine things, but I don’t think I’m a girl. Or a guy. I think...I might be nonbinary?”

Tim does his best to channel Bruce’s “supportive dad” energy and smiles. “Okay. What pronouns do you want to use?”

“They/them, maybe? For a while?”

“Duly noted.” He puts a hand on Duke’s shoulder. “I really do appreciate you telling me.”

Duke rubs the back of their neck, their cheeks flushing. “It feels good to say out loud. Not just in my head.”

“Do you think you’re going to tell anyone else? You don’t have to if you’re not ready, but our whole family will support you.”

“Yeah.” Duke picks at their nails, nodding absently. “I know they will. I’m not worried about that.”

“Then what are you worried about?”

Duke takes a deep breath in, and Tim is reminded of a balloon close to bursting. “My parents aren’t dead. I’m going to get them back. And when I do...what are they going to think when they wake up after half a decade and find out that their son isn’t their son anymore? What if they don’t like the person they see?”

Tim can’t say that he hadn’t swum with the same thoughts years ago, back when the person who is Tim Drake was still on the drawing board. But there’s a difference between his situation and Duke’s. “Your parents love you, Duke. They’re not going to stop loving you just because you’ve grown up since they last saw you.”

“What if it’s too much? The superpowers and the crime-fighting and the new gender...it’s a lot to take in.”

“Well, sure,” Tim says. “It might take some time for them to get used to it, but this is who you are. They’re going to love it just as much as they love the rest of you.”

Duke smiles, and if their eyes are a little misty, Tim pretends not to notice.

“Besides,” he says. “If I were you, I’d just lead with the superpowers thing. Anything after that sounds perfectly acceptable.”

[fizzingwizard]

So I’m sure you’re ALL on tenterhooks to find out what I thought of episode 36... the answer is.... LOVED IT!!!! No I really did. If you like Taishiro friendship, this is an essential episode to watch. Doesn’t blow me out of the water, but still just good.

Although Taichi has a big something to do as usual, it’s still very much a Koushirou episode. FREAKING YAY. I have a dozen thoughts about it, and what bugs me the most, of course, is how we needed this episode AGES ago ugh. But we’ve now had two or three episodes in a row that have actually felt like Digimon Adventure, so perhaps all that finger-crossing is working?

They could unravel all that good work in a minute by never addressing it again... or not letting Koushirou show his personality unless it’s his “turn” for an episode from here on... but you know, I will cross that bridge when we come to it.

Pic of the day:

“I don’t like people. But they are occasionally useful.” - 2020 Izumi Koushirou’s life lesson, lmao

*The red strip at the top is about the big earthquake that hit Eastern Japan yesterday. It’s annoying to have it there for the entire episode - usually they only stick around for a couple minutes - but this WAS a large earthquake. It caused many people to lose power. So making sure everyone knows what’s going takes precedence over Sunday morning cartoons. (I’m in Osaka and didn’t even feel it, but my friends in Tokyo prefecture very much did.)

Lots and LOTS of ranting from a rabid Taishiro fan under the cut!

(also I didn’t check for typos so. yeah)

The episode starts right off by assuring us this is a Koushirou episode. We get the trademark Izumi Koushirou floating in the void of space sequence, which is excellent and very encouraging framing.

Koushirou Kenobi: “Use the force, Taichi.”

Taichi: “Use it yourself.”

(the episode in a nutshell)

The initial thing that bugged me - okay, so the kids got separated for the umpteenth time many episodes ago, and since then we’ve stuck to Taichi like barnacles. The only glimpses we’d get of the other kids showed: Yamato running towards something, Koushirou flying towards something while researching the satellite malfunction, Jou in the hot springs, and Mimi at the crystal caves. For Jou and Mimi, I don’t care, because they never tried to move, but Yamato and Koushirou were constantly moving. Yet, in the end, it’s Taichi’s group that catches up with Koushirou, rather than the other way around. It DOES make sense - it seems like Koushirou told them to “meet at the giant gold pillar” because that’s where they needed to be to save the world, so it became the rendezvous point. But it just bugs me because, once again, all the activity is on Taichi’s side. But that’s a minor quibble. The end result is still THIS:

More of the team is together!!! Taichi and Koushirou are together!!! Yaaayy!!!

... the betting pool for how long it will be till the next separation is now open >.>

Poor Komodomon’s long mop dog fur is so dirty. “Fizz his fur always looks like that.” He’s tracking mud everywhere. “Fizz look at his ears his fur is supposed to look that way.” Next episode - everyone gives Komondomon a bath.

So the start of this episode is just a bunch of talking about how dire things are with the satellite situation. I’m not gonna bother translating. Watch the sub when it’s out if you really want to know :P The important thing is, the gold pillar is directly causing the malfunction, no one on Earth can stop the satellite from plummeting to Tokyo, the city is being evacuated, and there are only 20 minutes till impact.

Koushirou has an elaborate plan which Sora adorably sums up as “So, we’re gonna shoot it out of the sky *makes punching motion*”

The crux of Koushirou’s plan hinges on a repeat of how Omegamon saved Tokyo from the missile way back in like, episode 2 or 3. Taichi says, “Yeah, but I barely remember how we did that.” Which is hilarious because I don’t remember either because it was 30 EPISODES AGO. Once again this episode feels like it was meant to happen WAY EARLIER THAN IT DID. It’s just weird to be referencing something that happened 30 episodes ago after everything else that’s happened, AND on top of that, there are many references in this episode and none from later than like, episode 10 or 12. Making this all seem very oddly timed.

I’m not quite sure if, within the story itself, it matters that Taichi “doesn’t remember well.” He also doesn’t remember the Devimon battle where he and Agumon were infected with dark energy. That one makes sense for him not to remember. If that hadn’t happened, I would just take his “I don’t remember how we stopped the missile” to just mean it was so long ago. But together, it’s making me wonder if something else is going on.

Or maybe Taichi’s just been hit on the head one too many times (okay, that seems the most likely of all, haha)

People of Tokyo: Is it Godzilla again? I heard he’s itching to fight King Kong. You know, given how often our city is attacked by kaiju, some might wonder why we haven’t moved away by now. But home is home, ya know?

The group sets up to fly to the peak of the gold pillar. Obviously, without Yamato, there’s no Omegamon. No one points this out, but Koushirou seems very stressed with his plan, and it seems that he contacted Taichi in the first place because he thought “Taichi’s the one who can pull this off.”

After hearing the plan, Taichi shoots him through the heart with another “Koushirou, you’re so awesome!” and YAY I MISSED THIS SO MUCH!!!!!! *sobs*

Then he does his best to reassure Koushirou by remaining positive and determined that they can and will do this no matter how much Koushirou waves. The majority of the episode is them flying up the pillar while being assaulted by enemies trying to stop them, so it’s not like they get to talk about their feelings (lol). But at least we get a bunch of close ups of Koushirou’s and Taichi’s expressions, and that’s how we see this dynamic in play. Yes, Koushirou is the brainy one who made the plan, but he doesn’t have the confidence to take the lead, so he handed the reins to Taichi. As for Taichi - yes he has the confidence, yes he can do it... but he also has absolute faith in Koushirou. So that’s why this episode makes my little Koushirou fanatic heart skip a beat.

First of the enemies is this guy, aptly named BladeKuwagamon.

They’re actually pretty scary! They do real damage. (Blood in Digimon word is glowy unicorn-like stuff haha). Birdramon gets stabbed, but before Sora can get too upset, she just yanks the blade out of her chest...

... and then crushes it into dust with her beak.

Sora: Holy crap, my partner is metal AF.

Forgot to mention earlier but 5 whole minutes of the 20 minute countdown are used up just by digivolving apparently xD Taichi keeps asking Koushirou “how much time is left” and Koushirou’s panic grows more visible with each passing second...

MetaLiffeKuwagemon looks cooler than he is. Supposedly he’s there to bring out the big guns, but to be honest...

... the BladeKuwagamon don’t seem to need the help :P The enemy’s strategy is obvious: isolate each member of the team to prevent anyone from getting to the top. This is why Koushirou’s so stressed: he’s got a plan that is totally reliant on there being a leader strong enough to pull it off AND there being enough backup to protect that leader from the large number of enemies. And Koushirou doesn’t like these odds.

Garudamon gets stabbed AGAIN

Sora: Go on, we’ll be fine.

Taichi: Are you sure??

Garudamon: *DESTROYS EVERYTHING WITH FIRE*

I MEAN HONESTLY! Garudamon is not only my favorite of Piyomon’s evolutions, it’s pretty much my favorite Adventure evolution. Always has been since I was 11 years old. And she (and Sora) NEVER get that credit. Like. Growing up, with US dub Adventure, I interpreted Sora as more of a straight up tomboy than she is in the original. That’s okay, that’s whatever, but what was most important to me was that I saw her as the third “strong” member along with Taichi and Yamato. Those two were clearly in a class above her, but I saw her as being in the same “Taiorato” league. Garudamon seemed to prove that: she was so cool, so powerful, and... yeah, I just always thought she had so much potential to be awesome and never got why it wasn’t used. That’s also why I was disappointed in Tri - like, I liked Soushitsu, but I just wanted more from Sora’s arc. Same thing in Kizuna: I understand Sora’s arc, I don’t hate it or anything - I think it makes sense for her. But since I wanted something different for her all those years ago, it just left me feeling a bit flat.

but enough about other Digimon series :P Garudamon gets to be super cool here and I only hope we get to see more of it in this reboot. I’ll forgive it some of its other mistakes if we do :D

With Takeru/Hikari and Sora isolated by the BladeKuwagamon, it’s up to Taichi and Koushirou alone to race against the clock! Their teeth are clenched, sweat runs in rivulets down their skin, their hearts are pounding in desperation...

Koushirou: Taichi-san! If we don’t get to the top soon it’ll be too late!

Taichi: Just don’t call me late for dinner!

Koushirou: ASDFGHJKL;’ DAD JOKES NOW?? REALLY????????

MetaLiffeKuwagamon makes life that much harder by knocking them against the pillar. However, this is a pillar of data, which enabled the BladeKuwagamon to evolve into MetaLiffeKuwagamon in the first place. Bugs aren’t that bright.

Taichi and MetalGreymon are nearly submerged inside the pillar as a result, and then we get this sequence of red and black. The pillar had been emitting dark lightning, so I started to think... omg... is MetalGreymon gonna get a Dark Evolution???????

.... Nah. That would have made sense, but.... nah :P

Overall I’m glad though, because that would really have turned this into a Taichi episode instead of a Koushirou one.

I’m not personally certain what the point of bringing BlitzGreymon out was. I had figured he would be like, a super fast evolution that would enable them to make it to the top. That would also have turned this into a Taichi episode. But...

... Taichi tells Koushirou that he will have to go divert the satellite because Taichi has to deal with MetaLiffeKuwagamon.

I was both really pleased and really surprised. Because, again, now what’s the point of BlitzGreymon...? Why did we need a new Agumon evolution? There’s no particular reason why they couldn’t have just isolated Taichi with the enemy the same way the others were and had him tell Koushirou to keep going on his own then. They did do that, but first they gave him a new evolution. Why? Just because it’s cool?? I assume that must be the reason but we don’t even see BlitzGreymon fight xD It’s... it’s weird. But whatever.

Taichi: Go, Koushirou!!!!! You can do it!!!!!

Fiz: *dies a thousand brilliant deaths*

So, Koushirou tells Taichi that he can’t do it - he can support Taichi, but he can’t take the lead. Taichi’s just like that’s wack, dude, of course you can do it. What I LOVE about Taichi and Koushirou’s dynamic is just that: Taichi never sees Koushirou as a weakling. The fact that he’s small, or that he’s brains over brawn, or even that he’s kinda antisocial - those are all reasons an energetic, extroverted kid like Taichi might bully, or at least think poorly, of Koushirou.

But Taichi values Koushirou. He knows how hard he works and is impressed both by that hard work and his talent. What’s more, he doesn’t see Koushirou’s brains as his support system. The whole time Koushirou’s thinking he’s there to support Taichi with his plan, Taichi was thinking, “I’m here to support Koushirou’s plan.” That is SO, SO important. And that’s why I LOVE this episode. The one thing the reboot seemed to really understand, that hooked me from the start, was the way it just GOT Taichi and Koushirou. They each support and follow each other, while each feeling like the other is better than them. Ugh I could like, cry over Taishiro now... omg....

Taichi is successful in pushing Koushirou to go on, but of course Koushirou himself is still plagued with doubts. He reflects on how he’s always been fine being alone. He hasn’t particularly wanted friends and didn’t mind not having them, even though adults worried.

(Side note: this is a normal, if kinda rare, personality trait. I have it too. I always score Koushirou on “what Digimon character are you?” tests too lmao. Just like some people feel the need to be surrounded by others at all times, there are those whose social needs are very very low. I’m one of them. There’s nothing wrong with it except that even those people can get lonely and it’s easy to misunderstand them as shy or snobby. So what I love about Koushirou is, yes he learns to value his relationships more, but also learns to value himself. He is Koushirou: a brainy kid who’s happy on his own, but also happy with friends. While some people, like Mimi, struggle with that aspect of his personality, others, like Taichi, just accept it. To me that’s the best life lesson there is: there are always people who can and will be friends with you. Yes, I’ve lost friends because I just wasn’t social enough for them. But I have other friends who I’ve known for literal decades now. And I REALLY love those friends.)

Koushirou feels grateful that he has AlturKabuterimon, and also that he has Taichi. So... here he is, reflecting on the last time he had meaningful interaction with that great friend Taichi... back in episode three. -____________-

Seriously, this would mean a lot more if this dynamic had been built on continually until this episode...

Koushirou then briefly reflects on each of the other Chosen. Notably, every single solo image of them is from an episode that Koushirou either wasn’t in or wasn’t with them at the moment. Then we get this group image. It’s from EPISODE 12. (I’m actually not sure of the episode number but the point is, it’s from A LONG LONG TIME AGO. I think it’s the swamp episode??) That drives me NUTS. We shouldn’t have to reach soooo far back to find meaningful moments!!! Urk.

Koushirou makes it to the peak of the pillar and AlturKabuterimon attacks the satellite to drive it off course. We see the impression of what looks to be HerculesKabuterimon and I really thought we’d get an evolution - it seemed way more appropriate than freaking BlitzGreymon - but nope.

Oh well. Koushirou still saves the day. The people at home get to see the Crest of Knowledge take over their screens, hopefully giving rise to the idea that a nerd superhero is protecting them. Koushirou is the hero we deserve.

The satellite falls into the water. I was like, shouldn’t that cause a tsunami lol?

... be careful what you wish for >_>;

fortunately people were evacuated soooo things will be okay.

He did it!! He’s so happy! AlturKabuterimon’s triumphant holler is adorable.

Taichi and BlitzGreymon fought hard OFF SCREEN!! OFF SCREEN!! HIP HIP HOORAY! And then we get to see him leaning on Sora T_T could this episode give me any more perfect moments?? Looooove it

So yeah, if you can’t tell, I’m thrilled with this episode. There are just a couple things I would have liked to improve: better animation, at least one palpable heart to heart between Taichi and Koushirou, or just a bit more time spent explictly in Koushirou’s head - but honestly we got something that is pretty darn good, especially for this reboot. I hope we do get more like this, both for Koushirou and for the others. I hope the growth here isn’t forgotten moving forward. I really, REALLY want to see more of that “I lead, you support me - you lead, I support you” mutually beneficial relationship that is the foundation of Taishiro <3

So next week! Mimi’s back and the heads are gonna roll!

Lmao!

My theory that she’s finding crystals to make Crests seems unlikely to be the case now that we know the rocks constract the rock Digimon. But... hey, we’ll find out next week.

Also Taichi’s gonna make this face after talking with Mimi bahahahaha. I can’t wait.

[writingandmore]

Hi! Can I have a Naruto Hetalia JJBA Batman and Demon Slayer matchup please? (If you do Supernatural or dragon ball please take out Naruto is it's one of them and Naruto plus Batman if it's the two and remplace them ^^') I am a 5'4 INTP-F gemini (more of an ambivert) ace/heteromantic girl pale skin wavy dark brown hair (the tips are purple) and eyes (with glasses) plus a little chubby(always with a smirk/bitch face).Sassy I love justice/cats/puns/dark humor/tease/draw prank fight debate(about everything) learn and read(especially mystery thriller and fantasy) plus I'm a devil's advocate.Very open minded but confused with feelings (and people) so I'm an expert at making jokes at the wrong time (and saying things I didn't mean or hurting someone because of how I said it) and not reacting "normally" to some situations.Not very touchy in public and have some issues.I'm charismatic prideful(saying sorry for me takes TIME and good luck if you want to have the last word cuz you won't) vengeful but I look chill with a shady aura(only explanation beside my blunt side as to why ppl never tell me secrets even if my friends say I have a baby face and eyes).I have some anger issues even thought it's more annoyance then anger(tsundere),so it's rare for me to lose my composure or the image I give out publically ,if not I can't control myself.I care about my friends and family even If they don't notice it and they don't come to me for help cause they say I can be blunt while I think it's better to finish this quickly so I am more logical, but in reality and on the outside I'm expressive/talkative/protective/insecure a little naive but adventurous and a tomboy with some sadistic tendencies (my conscience saved you all).I'm cruel to my enemies and indifferent towards nearly every situation but in reality I'm very kind (I hate suck ups and "idiots" I become very mean a snappy with them to the point where they get hurt without me realising same thing with some of my friends because of my sharp tongue)!Very curious(and polite unless you disrespect me or is disrespectful toward something I believe in) in every domain(morbid ones especially)+ have no problem talking about anything unless it's sexual or VERY gore which means that morally a lot of my entourage don't agree with me.A daydreamer but calculative and a smartass+chaotic good/neutral and (nearly)never let's you have the last word. Those who don't talk to me see me as a nerd aggressive smart and blunt person (maybe even prideful) and strangers as a polite sweetheart. I have some bad habits like biting my nails/lips bcs I am always nervous, disorganized room/sleep and eating schedule plus I am lazy. I don't understand a lot of references because I find movies as predictable and borings (I never saw a marvel etc) and my style varies a lot but I never wear dresses heels/makeup. Thank you!

Naruto: Sasuke! 

 - Sasuke’s own hard-headed (and a bit antagonistic) personality would match well with yours. You may both argue or banter back and forth a lot, but you’d have equal say in the relationship since you’re both on the same level in terms of humor, debate skills, and intelligence. 

 - He can be a bit awkward in social situations too-a lot of times he misses social cues, so some people can be a bit confused/hesitant around him. You two would probably be able to bond over your shared struggles and understand that it’s not because the two of you don’t want to talk to others, it’s just that you have different struggles than others in the village. 

Hetalia: Kiku Honda (APH Japan)! 

 - Kiku is also someone who prefers not to be affectionate in public, and sometimes even in private, so he’d be a great s/o for you in that regard, as you’d have a mutual understanding about that. 

 - Kiku is actually really passive aggressive and can hold grudges too-he just really doesn’t show that side of himself outside of when he’s alone or with an extremely trusted person. While arguing with each other might be rough, you’d have a very strong bond with each other since you often have the same views on other people and situations. 

JJBA: Abbachio! 

 - Abbachio certainly understands struggling with anger issues, so he’d be actually pretty understanding as long as it’s not taken out on those he cares about. 

 - Abbachio is also someone who cares deeply about others, but does it in secret as well. He doesn’t like admitting he cares for others, so an s/o who understands that and doesn’t push him to be extra affectionate or anything to that extent. 

Batman: Harvey Dent! 

 - Harvey would admire your almost cut throat approach to handling your enemies and those you don’t want to deal with. He is know to show mercy occasionally, but sometimes he’d want to act the way that you do, and would look to you for pointers. 

 - He’s rather intelligent and likes to research and learn new things in his downtime, so he’d enjoy that you are the same way. Reading together or doing things like watching documentaries would be nice, relaxing pastime for the both of you. 

Demon Slayer: Giyu! 

 - In his line of work, being calculating and one step ahead is a necessity of sorts. Therefore, Giyu would admire your ability to do the same, and that would help him feel like you can protect yourself when he can’t be there. 

 - He can be a bit awkward when approaching people at first, so your apparent sweet and nice personality could help with that. As you grow closer, he would come to love the more sassy and blunt side of you-it may have just sacred him off at the beginning without your gentle pretense. 

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

Out of the Box

Happy Pride Month!! There’s not always much trans content around, so here’s some nonbinary Alix to say to every nonbinary person in the fandom that you are awesome and loved! On AO3 as well here

-

Having a kwami now was different from what Alix had expected. No matter what was going on, where she was, Fluff was always just sort of… there. Watching, hidden, aware of everything and yet so silent. For someone who was used to being a lot more solitary, it did almost seem like some kind of constant surveillance.

She knew, of course, that over time she would come to trust the little kwami – she had seen how her older self had acted during the Timetagger attack. But that was years in the future! Until then, being able to open up to what was essentially a tiny magic stranger was going to be a slow task. She didn’t even have the fun of transforming very often, not when Bunnix’s powers were too strong to be used on the ordinary, day-to-day akuma attacks that didn’t even faze anyone anymore. No, she simply had to go about her life as normal, with the added caveat that an immortal god with unfathomable superpowers was watching her every move.

-

It was after a long, unsatisfying day that she got back to her room that evening, tearing her skates off and flopping down onto her bed with no mind to do anything at all.

Fluff popped out of her pocket, a worried look on that adorable little face of hers. “Is everything okay? You seem to be in a bad mood! Are you alright?”

Oh, where to even start. It was hard to explain all the little things piling up – losing that skate race today, her knee stinging from where she landed on it after a particularly nasty trip, knowing that she had too much homework to be getting on with and no desire to even start.

But to tell the truth, those were all normal constants in her life, and nothing to be too upset about. What was really getting her down, it was… hard to put into words.

Fluff flew over and gave her cheek a little prod. “Don’t tell me you’re ill! Do you need me to do anything? I could make some soup! I’ll get the thermometer! I could–”

“I’m not ill, don’t worry!” Alix said. As discontent as she was, she couldn’t help but smile – usually Fluff was the anxious, neurotic one, the one who needed cheering up and taking care of. It was sweet to know that the little kwami would happily do the same for Alix in return when she needed it.

“Well whatever you need, just let me know and I’ll happily do it!”

“Thanks. But there’s not really anything that can be done.”

“Why not? What’s wrong?”

Alix sighed. “It’s… nothing much. Just, um, a bunch of little things.”

“Like what?”

Like things that Alix didn’t say out loud to people, not knowing how, and being sure that no one could really understand! But Fluff looked so concerned, and if Alix was going to have a magic sidekick living in her pocket for the next several years at least, there were some things that wouldn’t be able to stay hidden forever. Not without a lot of stress involved, anyway.

“For starters,” Alix said, deciding to begin with something that was perfectly acceptable to complain about, “it’s that time of month.”

“Oh…” Fluff nodded, her twitchy eyes widening. “I remember my last holder complaining about that too…”

“It sucks and it hurts and there’s no point! And I’d go to the doctor and get that pill thing to stop it, but my dad won’t let me, and… and speaking of my dad, you heard what he was saying earlier…”

Fluff nodded again. Sitting in Alix’s pocket all day, there was no way she couldn’t have heard it – the usual Why can’t you be more ladylike? You’re not a little child anymore, you need to stop being so immature! Can’t you be more like your friends?

“I’m sorry,” Fluff said, giving her a gentle pat. “There is nothing wrong with being a tomboy, even into adulthood.”

Alix winced. “Yeah, but… I’m… it’s not exactly… that…”

It had been nice when she was a kid, knowing she could just act however she wanted, be whoever she wanted, and it would all get thrown under the word “tomboy” and she never needed to worry. But growing older, even that open word had started to feel too suffocating, like she was supposed to fit some mould of “tomboy”, and at this point just hearing the word itself was like a sharp knife stabbing into her.

We want you to be ladylike. And if you’re not, you have to be a tomboy. It’s not ideal, but it’s obligatory.

What happened when even the word “tomboy” just didn’t feel right?

Fluff was watching her, more solemn than usual. “Alix? Is there something you need to talk about?”

Yes, oh dear god yes, but she wasn’t used to saying these things out loud. Not even Nathaniel knew everything about how she truly felt – heck, not even Jalil knew, and he’d been there from the start. Why should she tell some kwami who she’d only known for a month or so at most?

At that moment there was a message on her phone. She had a quick look, only to roll her eyes and toss it off the edge of the bed and out of her line of sight. Fluff jumped in surprise.

“What happened? What did the message say? Was it something bad?”

Alix shook her head at first, planning to play it off as something unimportant. But this day had just been too much – she noticed with alarm that the beginnings of tears were stinging her eyes. Oh boy. She was not going to cry in front of this kwami, thanks.

“It was Marinette,” she said, blinking the tears away and trying to sound as nonchalant as she could. “She wanted to know if I wanted to join the girl squad to go watch a movie today.”

“You don’t want to go?”

“Nah. Too tired.”

Fluff was frowning, watching her, seemingly able to see right through that flimsy excuse. Did this kwami really know her so well already? Or was it a side-effect of being an ancient god? In any case, a pang of guilt hit Alix. Fluff was trying so hard to help, to be there for her and make her feel better, and she wasn’t exactly making it easy when she couldn’t even directly say what the problem was.

But it was just so hard…

She took a deep breath, reminding herself how the future-Alix had been so close with Fluff, so at ease, and that must mean that everything would turn out okay in the end. Her kwami would not abandon her for anything.

“Some days I just… don’t feel like hanging out with them,” she started, trying to find the right words. “They’re wonderful and I’m so glad they’re my friends. But… I can’t… I just don’t fit in sometimes. Because…”

Fluff’s expression hadn’t changed. For the first time it really, truly hit Alix – this wasn’t a tiny human she was talking to. This was some complete unknown creature that couldn’t be compared to any other on earth.

Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe Fluff would be able to understand better, in fact, why some things about humanity seemed so very arbitrary, so weirdly stifling and alien and no other humans she knew could figure out why it felt so wrong.

She watched Fluff very carefully as she asked, “Fluff, are you a girl?”

Fluff stayed in silent thought for a few seconds before answering.

“Kwamis do not have a gender or a physical sex. We are simply beings of pure energy that cannot be defined by human forms. However, throughout much of history, many of our human holders have given us categories that they feel best suit us, as their way of fitting creatures like us into their understanding of the world. We accept these gender labels as a way to participate in human culture. I have most often been given the “female” category, as per human customs, but it doesn’t have any bearing on me, personally.”

Just hearing those words, it was enough to set Alix’s mind slightly at ease. Kwamis didn’t necessarily fit into the rigid human gender concept.

And… and maybe some humans didn’t quite fit it either.

“The truth is,” Alix said, “I asked because… um… can I tell you something? Something I don’t really talk to anyone about?”

“Of course, of course! Anything at all!”

“Well you see, I know people call me a tomboy, and I know the girl squad invite me out with them a lot because they consider me a part of the squad too, and I do sometimes feel like it, but…”

The tears were coming back, and she hastily wiped them away.

“…I just feel sometimes like I’m not really… meant to be a girl. Like I just look like this and something went kinda wrong along the way and I’m meant to be… I don’t even know, just something else! And some days I don’t mind it so much but other days I just can’t, and I feel like such an imposter! I can’t even hang out with my friends those days because they think I’m one of them and I’m just – I’m just not!”

She knew she was usually a confident sort of person, but this was so nerve-wracking she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking. And yet in a way she needed to get this all out – now that she’d started, she had to take this opportunity to say everything on her mind before she clammed up again forever.

“I don’t really know how to explain it to people, I guess, because they’d think if I’m not a girl then I have to be a boy and I don’t want that either! Nothing feels right, and I just cope with it most of the time but I wish I didn’t have to, some days it just all gets too much, like today… I mean, some days it’s not that bad, but I still don’t think I ever really truly fit in as a girl, because…”

Because I’m not a girl.

The thought was so comforting, yet at the same time so terrifying. Impossible to say aloud.

She wasn’t a girl. Even from a young age she’d picked up that something was wrong, something didn’t quite click in the way it was supposed to. But she just dealt with it and went about her life because that was what she was supposed to do.

And yet as she got older, as the boxes of acceptability got narrower and narrower, she found herself further and further outside them. She couldn’t just go on being forced into a space where she simply wouldn’t fit.

Having seen Bunnix, her own future self, she had very quickly noticed that haircut. Evillustrator-style, right? Just how she would want it, and simply didn’t have the means to get now. The perfect kind of hairstyle where no matter how she was feeling that day, it would fit whatever label she wanted the world to see her as.

If she wanted to hang out with the girl squad that day? It could be a bob. If she wanted to simply chill out with Nath at the museum? She could ruffle it up and look exactly as androgynous, masculine, feminine, whatever as she wanted to be.

It had given her hope. So much hope. That in the future, she could simply be, and not need to feel like an imposter, wearing a costume and pretending to be a girl, or a tomboy, or anything else people expected of her.

“I find it hard to know what exactly I am,” she admitted, rubbing her eyes again and hoping the waterworks wouldn’t start. “It fluctuates sometimes. But I never truly feel like I make sense as a girl or a boy. And uh… while I’m confessing things, I may as well mention…”

She fiddled with the newly bought rings on her fingers – a white one on the middle left, and a black one on the middle right.

“I’m not really like… into boys either, or girls, and it makes it hard to like… anchor myself to a gender or whatever, because everyone else seems to at least be able to figure it out by knowing how they’d see themselves in a relationship, like how Marc did. But I just find all that stuff kind of a bit gross, so like… that doesn’t help me, and no one seems to understand that either…”

Fluff had been very quiet up until this point, paying close attention without interruption. But Alix had run out of things to say, and in any case her voice was beginning to tremble and she couldn’t have that, so she gave the little bunny a shaky smile.

“So yeah… I’m n-not a girl or a boy really. I’m… uh, I’ve seen the word ‘nonbinary’ around, and I kinda l-like it, so…”

A tear ran down her cheek – yep, time to shut up for real now. She sniffed and wiped it away. Who knew coming out could take such a toll? An overwhelming mix of terror and relief, she was glad she’d done it but wow, this was all a bit much.

For a few seconds Fluff waited. But once it was clear Alix was not going to say anything else, she hopped up into the air, whizzed over at top speed and launched herself at Alix in what was apparently the kwami equivalent of a hug.

“Oh Alix, that all makes perfect sense!” she gushed. “I understand completely – there’s so much ambiguity and nuance in the universe, of course there are always going to be people like you! I never knew the word ‘nonbinary’ until today; I learned something new. Thank you for confiding in me!”

Alix gave Fluff’s head a pat. “Thank you for l-listening…”

“It’s okay to cry, I know you have strong emotions, and from what I’ve seen humans tend to take gender too seriously, so no wonder it’s hurting you and you didn’t tell anyone, but you deserve to be happy being who you are and I’ll always be there for you and… and I’m rambling again now I’m sorry! I’m just very proud of you!”

Oh, thank goodness. Bless this kwami. She understood, and she knew now, so there was nothing to keep hidden. For the first time, Alix truly did feel like she could be herself – her complete self, with not a single thing hidden whatsoever. She could see now, how in the future, her older self and Fluff had such a strong bond. It was the trust and support that this little kwami gave her.

Nonbinary… yeah. A word that finally did fit.

For a while Alix didn’t say anything more, just listening to Fluff continuing to gush and letting the tears subside somewhat. She vaguely remembered Bunnix’s outfit: the blue, the white, her own pink hair. She had always wondered if she counted as “trans enough” to even call herself such, or to ever dress in the colours of such a pretty flag, but finally she was beginning not to doubt it. Perhaps Bunnix was out in the future, already having told everyone that she was nonbinary, or perhaps she didn’t say anything, but every closet trans kid in Paris would look at her suit and wonder: Is she dressed in those colours for a reason?

One thing was for sure, though. It was getting far too stifling to keep this under wraps for much longer.

Having stopped crying by now, she put a determined smile back on her face. “Hey Fluff?”

“Yes?”

“Tomorrow I’m gonna tell Nath.”

Fluff’s face lit up. “Ooh, that’s wonderful! I’m sure he’ll be fully supportive!”

Well of course he would be, he was dating a genderfluid demiboy, wasn’t he? But that wasn’t all. Alix clenched a fist. “And then I’m gonna tell the girl squad.”

“Yes, yes, go for it! If they know, then you won’t feel so out of place when spending time with them, right?”

“Right! And I bet they won’t mind, they were all fine with Marc…”

Plenty of kids at their school weren’t straight, it was common knowledge. Ladybug and Chat Noir had done so much supportive work during pride month that luckily these kids all felt safe coming out to their friends. But usually it was gay, bi, ace… As far as she knew, Marc was the first person anyone knew who wasn’t cis.

In that case, Alix could be the second.

She pulled a little carrot out of the bag in her pocket and held it up at Fluff. “Hey, I really can’t thank you enough for being so nice about everything, so uh, have a carrot I guess.”

Fluff gladly took the carrot and began munching away, speaking with a mouth full. “Anytime! You truly are one of the most unique miraculous holders I’ve ever had! I hope you’re feeling better now?”

Alix nodded. “Much better.”

“Good! I’m so glad!”

“In fact…”

She recollected how her father was getting stricter as she got older, and how every time she needed to vent about anything, she’d go barge into Jalil’s room and tell him, and he never minded one bit.

“…first things first, I’m gonna go see Jalil. He gets to know first. That way I can complain to him whenever dad’s being annoying about the tomboy thing again.”

“Sibling solidarity – wonderful idea!”

“Cool. Wish me luck.”

She held her fist out for a fist bump, and misunderstanding it as always, Fluff gently bopped her head against it. Bless her, honestly, she was the sweetest, and the absolute best. With her support, nothing seemed so bad anymore. If Alix had managed to come out once, she could do it again, right?

She cracked her knuckles and headed for the door. Time to go tell Jalil that his little sister was more of a general little sibling, and that she definitely needed help with her homework from him, and that afterwards she could go watch that movie with the girl squad after all.

Huh… maybe flower squad was a better name for it, remembering how Marinette and Alya had nicknamed them all during that stupid plan with the flower petals. Or perhaps a “no boys allowed” squad.

Because she wasn’t quite a girl, and wasn’t quite a boy. Nah – the most powerful superhero in Paris, the last resort when everyone else had failed, was nonbinary. If neither time nor space were obstacles to her, then neither was gender. And that was exactly how she liked it.

[writeanapocalae]

Nano Day 1 Writing

“I can’t believe they let you keep that thing,” Sarah grimaced, pulling her hair back from her face. “Especially since you won’t let me actually do anything with it.”

Anton bristled towards her. He liked Sarah, but he had found himself getting more and more irritated with her when it came to R. She was a mechanical engineer, a genius, and a bit of a ridiculous hacker hobbyist. She knew R in a different light than the rest of them, but it wasn’t in the way that Anton liked.

“Maybe because it’s useful.” Anton shrugged, turning his attention to Micah. She was working on the chain holding the gate closed, her muscles tense as she cut through the links with bolt cutters. It was taking her a few tries still. “I like having R around, it helps me out.”

“I am quite similar to a service animal,” R explained, passing them both and going to Micah’s side. “although I do not require sustenance and my breaks are minimal. I may not be an aid for Xinzha, but I am an aid for Anton. Would you allow me to help you, Micah?”

Micah nodded and took a step back, handing the bolt cutters to R. It cut through the links in a single try, probably able to see where the links were weakest.

Micah went back to the rest of them, to the car and her other clothes. She slipped on her ragged leather jacket and wiped off her hands on the kerchief that hid in the interior pocket. She was tall and brilliant and had deep brown eyes that could go from warm to terrifyingly stern in a moment.

“It’s useful and it helps us out and maybe we can get the information that we need out of it if ever remembers.”

R set the bolt cutters down in the open back end of the van. It looked at its hands and noted that they were not stained before going back to Anton’s side. It looked him over. It was a scan, not that Anton knew the science behind that, even though Sarah had explained it to him, in long detail.

“My memory was wiped upon activation by the technicians of the second hand shop. If I was allowed to retain my memories I would not hold them from you.”

Anton leaned his head onto R’s shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment. Everyone was getting ready, getting back into the car, but there was a moment for this, for just resting, a head on a shoulder and the warm feeling of R beneath him. It usually wasn’t very warm but at this moment it’s black suit jacket had absorbed the sunlight.

R was an android and for that it was trapped in the constant loop of obedience and programming. With Anton, its job was to get him to sleep when he needed to and get him awake when he needed to, to do the household chores, to help Anton with any tasks he might need, and to follow orders. That wasn’t what Anton had purchased it for though.

R was created by the Caecus Corporation, which had once been housed in the bones of the building ahead of them. Xinzhi had paid Anton for the purchase of a second hand android, so that they could get any information on what had happened here out of it. That hadn’t worked very well and while Caecus had never gotten to the point of creating sentience in their androids, there was some sort of response in R when Sarah was starting to run a diagnosis on its memories. Anton couldn’t allow her to continue with it because, to him, R had seemed afraid. He’d never allowed Sarah to do anything else with it. Without those memories though, it was impossible for them to actually know what had caused such a reaction.

They got into the car and finally started to move, driving up the overgrown road and towards Caecus. It was a gray building, with only a single stripe of windows near the top. There was no sign on it to delegate the name of the building as much as there was ivy growing up the sides. There was a parking lot alongside the building but the cement was too damaged for them to drive through comfortably.

“It’s only been four years since the disappearance,” Anton realized. “This is more damage than there should be this soon.”

They parked in front of the entrance, just in the middle of the road. It was cracked as well, but not as bad as the lot, even though, by construction, it should have been worse.

“Something must have happened underground,” Micah stated. “I’m guessing an underground waterway? That would have eroded the cement from underneath.”

“That would match with the information that we’ve dug up,” Anton went over the information that he could remember. They had been investigating what had happened here for the past year and there was a river running underground nearby. It would be easy for a branch of the river to have snaked under the building. “Doesn’t that usually lead to a series of trees running along the length of the water space though?”

“We had something like that,” Micah said, “Darryl and me. Didn’t notice it for years. That could of happened here but just too recently. The trees may not have grown enough.”

They piled out of the car and towards the back, to grab their bags and other equipment. They had spare clothes, water bottles, small first aid kits, batteries, flashlights, and multi-tools. R’s pack didn’t have water or a first aid kit but it {did have whatever they needed but was too heavy for them}.

“There’s not going to be any lights in there,” Sarah reminded them. “If there’s any electricity in there I’d be surprised.”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re only going in for a preliminary.” Micah tossed her backpack onto her back and her hair out of her face.

Sarah handed her a few hairbands off of her wrist. Her hair was nowhere near as thick as Micah’s but it was a lot longer. It was wavy and black and as much of a mess as the rest of her. She was every bit the tomboy, with her torn up jeans and the two fingers that seemed to be ever present on the edges of her mouth.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Micah stated, hoisting a crowbar over her shoulder. The doors were boarded over but it didn’t take her long to break them down.

“There is an elevated population of homeless humans in the city,” R mentioned off hand, its voice cold and hollow. “It is concerning that none of them have broken into the building to squat for at least a while.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not in the city, numb skull,” Sarah pointed out with her knuckles on her hips. Anton wished she would be more polite but he also knew that that would never happen. In the past year that he’d known her she had always been gruff and quick with her words, going so far as to get threatened with actual workplace discipline a few times. “Why would anyone want to come out this far for a roof over your head?”

With a last crack the last plank was torn away. That didn’t make the doors operable, as they were locked, but it was a step closer. The windows were thick glass, double paned, with interlaced wire between the panes.

“R, you wouldn’t happen to be a locksmith, would you?” Micah asked after jiggling the handle.

“I am equipped to install the packets needed for a multitude of tasks,” R replied, “but I do not have the tools necessary. My apologies.”

She patted it on the shoulder, a human motion. Everyone treated R like it was like the rest of them, like it was human, except for Sarah. She was the only one who seemed to think of it as a machine. It was a machine, as much as Anton pretended that it wasn’t, because it didn’t have the tools necessary to be anything else. It didn’t look human either. The face looked right, albeit a little too perfect, with a strong jaw and soft gray eyes, slicked back black hair and thick eyebrows. It had broad shoulders and a slim but muscular shaped torso but the arms were just a bit too long and the hands a bit too big. It was unsettling, at first, to look at, so close but still too far away from human that Anton actually had nightmares the first few nights that it was in his apartment. Now though, he could barely tell.

Micah pulled Lan out of her pocket and placed it on the ground. It scratched at it’s little hamster-esque cheeks before looking at her with its black button eyes.

“Hi hi Ms Micah!” it said with its squeaky cartoony voice. “How can I be of service today?”

Micah turned Lan around so it could see the door of the facility. “Lan, we need to get inside, can you find a way in and unlock the door for us?”

“I am very small!” Lan sing sanged. Anton hated it. He was fairly certain that Sarah did too by her expression. “I can get in and out with ease! I can move about as I please! But the doorknob is very high and I don’t know if I can climb up there.”

“Well take a look around and see if you can, alright?”

“Aye aye!”

With that Micah placed Lan on the ground and the light blue toy of a robot got on all fours to race along the edge of the building. It looked more like a hamster this way, actually looking like one.

Sarah shuddered. “God I hate that thing.”

“You know,” Micah pointed out leaning against the wall next to the door. “I’m surprised that you’re our specialist in robotics, considering how you feel about them.”

“I like them just fine.”

“Really? I’ve never heard you say one positive thing about the technological advancements that our company’s made, not one positive thing about the androids and robots in our department, and nothing positive ever about mundane technology either, not even the coffeemaker.”

“Our coffeemaker is outdated and you know it,” Sarah growled. “I love technology. I just don’t like creepy shit. And you’ve got a walking talking cartoon of a spy device that you use as a pocket secretary-

“Lan is a personal assistant. It’s not attached to some big conglomerate like a lot of other smart devices. And who would it report to, our boss?”

“And you’ve got a creepy Ken doll that follows you around everywhere!” Sarah finished waving at R.

R cocked its head. Anton tried not to laugh at the fact that the head cock was something that it had borrowed from Sarah, though it used it more often when it was confused and she used it when she was playing dumb about something.

“I am not a Ken doll,” it explained, “I was created by the Caecus Corporation, which has nothing in common with Mattel.”

“You know what I mean!” Sarah spat.”

There was a scratching at the door. Then a little song that sounded a lot like a recorded ring tone.

“Sounds like Lan’s found a way inside,” Anton murmured, drawing closer. The sun was hot against his back and he was glad that he was dressed for warmth because it would be cold inside the facility but at the moment he felt like a cat that had spent too much time in a sunbeam.

@detectivesebcas​ @inthemoonshadow​ @etjwrites​ @lordfenric

[trcshpark]

introduction.

- ̗̀   ––  ( tom holland, twenty one, cismale, he/him. )  hey, is that alan myers over there?  rumor has it,  they’re one of those townies.   they’ve lived in erith springs for their whole life  &  are currently working as a bookshop clerk.  i’ve heard they’re pretty wayward,  it’s just too bad they’re also dull-witted.  they remind me of worn down combat boots,  the sun setting over a hushed trailer park,  late night gas station food.   ̖́ -

it’s fran here again!  &  this time i’m bringing you my much less than friendly,  borderline recluse,  idiot of a boy!  i’ll leave some potential connections below for you to take a peek at  &  maybe spark some inspiration for plotting as well as go over the basics.  i’m always available through ims or discord for those who ask for it!  this is going to be significantly shorter than elijah’s.

so,  alan is something else.  a piece of work if you want to be nice about it.  he’s not the best of people  &  he’s never claimed to be.  he’s harsh,  rude,  very insensitive to how others are feeling  ( often times the case is, he doesn’t know or he doesn’t care )  &  can overall be somewhat of an asshole.  but that’s mostly because he’s definitely not a people person.  he enjoys his own space,  the number of friends he has is slim to none,  people generally know not to approach him.

&  what’s the perfect job for someone who’s not a people person,  you might ask? a book store clerk, duh.  alan is definitely not thrilled about his job,  but he’s been working there for so long that the job is the last thing he complains about.

he works for a family owned book store that’s renown for it’s collection of comic books  &  graphic novels. it’s about the only book store in erith springs you can find such an impressive collection.  so,  naturally he has to deal with ‘nerds’ all day long.  he doesn’t see what the big deal is--  he doesn’t like comics himself.  or so he claims.  it’s not like he’s been reading them since he was a kid  ( not that anyone knows of ).  he doesn’t like to be associated with something so childish  &  ‘stupid’  as he likes to put it.

if it wasn’t obvious already,  alan was definitely the type to bully kids  &  take their lunch money in high school.  he didn’t have many friends by choice,  but it never helped that people were either afraid of him or just didn’t like him as a person. he got into fights. a lot. the amount suspensions he had rivaled his actual attendance.

he has a temper on him--  he’s very easily irked,  angered or annoyed.  but that can often be surprising for those who don’t know him by reputation.  at work he holds a generally stoic expression,  monotone voice  &  nonchalant disposition.  but of course,  if he does appear otherwise--  it’s usually a look of annoyance,  or a simple warning for someone to back off  &  leave him be.  either way,  he never looks like someone you want to be friends with.

he’s not all bad.  he’s just someone who holds a lot of anger in him  &  isn’t always sure how to express himself.  on that note, though...  his one outlet is  &  always has been working out.  he spends a lot of time jogging around town or working out on the beach.  or hogging the arcade punching bag at the amusement park. he’s just a big idiot.

his life is all work, fighting  &  hookups.  honestly.  he doesn’t sleep around half as much as people claim he does,  his reputation definitely argues otherwise,  but he’s at least somewhat selective.  depending on the day.  he can be charming when he wants to be.

alan lives with his parents in a trailer park across town. it’s a good while away from the center of the town  &  the beach,  but he walks to work every day.  he doesn’t bring people home with him.  partly because he’s never had anyone to really bring home--  &  partly because he’s embarrassed of where he comes from,  even though it’s common knowledge where he lives.  it’s been the topic of many fights over the years.

when it comes to his looks, he’s a very ‘baggy ripped jeans, worn down combat boots, low side tank tops’ kind of person. his hair is messy, he’s almost always got a bruise or cut lip  &  does give the overall vibe of someone you don’t want to piss off.  he’s got a few tattoos here  &  there too!

basically,  he’s a punk idiot whose self worth fluctuates more than the weather.  he’s also not the biggest fan of the amount of attraction the town gets,  especially around summer,  so that never helps anything.  fun fact:  he also goes by junior.  mostly.

CHARACTER ARCHETYPES.

50% the rebel ––   the rebel is comfortable throwing caution to the wind, &  bucking the system,  if that means getting their point across.

the warrior.  warriors are brave  &  attractive people who are willing to put themselves on the line regardless of consequences.

the wild man.  wild men  &  wild women are the most outrageous of rebels.  these are the people who are in touch with the side of themselves that doesn’t want to settle or be forced into any box.

the criminal.  because rebels by their nature push at boundaries,  they can easily go too far  &  break the law.

the fighter.  sometimes a rebel becomes too aggressive in their various pursuits,  &  turns into a fighter who won’t back down  &  won’t stop arguing.

the don juan.  charming,  fun,  well-mannered,   &  sexually attentive,  don juans make the game of seduction fun for women who have their own rich  &  romantic fantasy lives as well as self-confidence.

32% the royal  ––   when the royal walks into a room,  they command attention.  they are the one in charge,  &  they enjoy reaping the rewards of their hard work.

the brat.   because they are used to pampering  &  don’t know how to do things for themselves,  royals can exhibit childish behavior in the form of tantrums  &  unreasonable demands.

the vampire.   like bram stoker’s count dracula,  who fed on the lifeblood of others while living in a regal manner,  royals can be a drain on those around them.

the bully.   when it becomes so easy to take advantage of one’s position, it takes a certain amount of discipline to fight the urge to debase the reputation of self  &  family.

the destroyer.   the destroyer manifests in vindictiveness  &  an unchecked fascination with wreaking enormous destruction on enemies.

18% the athlete  ––  the athlete's focus  &  drive are unparalleled.  staying healthy  &  being fit are paramount to them ( as for winning,  that doesn't hurt,  either ).

the outdoorsman.   outdoorsmen (  &  women  )  are physically fit,  environmentally conscious  &  adventurous.  they are resourceful,  unmaterialistic,  &  appreciative of nature’s quiet beauty.

the bully.  the danger with living too much in your body is that you can end up using it to bad ends as well as good.

the tomboy.   tomboys don’t play games.  they are straightforward,  honest  &  concerned with getting things done in the most direct way possible.  they are also refreshingly lacking in vanity,  &  bring a freshness  &  vigor to socially formal situations.

CONNECTIONS.

friends.  i know, i know.  he doesn’t have many,  but he does love the ones he has!

ex - almost.  someone junior got close enough to ( somehow or another, whether that was because they quickly became friends or it was a ‘no strings’ hookup that quickly got tangled )  that they almost began dating,  only for junior to get scared  &  completely drop them without warning.

childhood friends.  someone who junior was best friends with as a kid  &  drifted apart from over the years.  not for any particular reason other than growing up--  or maybe not.

hookups.  pretty self explanatory!  they can be current,  old or in the making.

crushes.  unrequited from either side or completely mutual!  getting junior to admit he has feelings for someone is a long road,  but it’s not without a few pit stops along the way.  there’d be banter between the two as a result of it!  especially if someone has a crush on him  &  are infuriated because--  him, really?  of all people?  i have to like him?

[marsixm]

edit sorry this post is both long (if the readmore fails i am truly truly sorry) & longwinded im just reflecting and thinking; (another edit: u can probably just read the tl dr and get it)

anyway allow me to spin some very personally based theory here for a mo while i put off/warm my fingers up from the cold in preparation to email my therapist

so growing up i had, i think only, het ships, but i never quite had the ones you were (narratively speaking) “supposed to” have

in most media i recall when i was a kid, there were like, 2 diff structures of character romance plot arcs in media i consumed, there was the main lead and 2 best friends model, where thered be the star of the show who had outside romantic leads and the 2 best friends (who were always a boy and a girl) would have their secondary romance, OR there were ensemble shows where there was a more clear romance set up between the main boy and main girl, then side characters whod pair off in whatever ways ended up happening. in the first, see: hannah montana, the second, see: zoey 101. obv this isnt a hard rule and there were loads of exceptions but like, lets just say i tended not to care for the romances set up for the main girls in the trio models, or quite as hard for the main boy and girl in the ensembles, and in general if there was an obvious romance between two leads i either didnt care or outright hated it

basically i never liked the ships they set up for us in straight media, as a kid (namely, a girl) i liked being that “ew pink!” “i hate valentines day” sort of contrarian, but what i remember actually disliking was the predictability of it, because i clearly still shipped characters, so it wasnt /really/ that i hated romance, per se

looking back on it i think it was probably or at least to a degree more like that i hated the hetero expectation of it- i can nit pick down to more specific examples of why i disliked the main pairings (kataang, for example, i thought was weird bc katara acted like a mother/older sister figure to aang, and i didnt feel like there was romance between them at all except where it felt shoehorned in) - maybe it was also that i thought it made more sense for a main character to be with someone they clearly already spent a lot of time with and not some random new hot boy in town (i very distinctly remember shipping miley and oliver on hannah montana, and i believe that was the first time i ever read fanfiction @ age like... 11 lol) as is often the case w like these things.

theres another level to this though, which is that i notice i tended to ship characters who were more vaguely similar to each other, like, physically (ie, similar heights, or hair colors mainly) obviously this is funny now since my main pairing is johnlock which is such a physically different ship we can construct them from basic shapes and colors and theyre still recognizable as who they are, but i have some thoughts about this- but i think there might be two interesting things about this again in retrospect

first of all, this sounds silly ik, but shipping the vaguely similar ones as a child’s way of queering heterosexuality is an interesting concept and not that difficult, like, two boys are also vaguely similar to each other in a similar way a boy and a girl with the same hair color and height might be, which is something i thought of a while ago

the other way in which this is really interesting to me now, that i think might have been more actually pertinent to myself as a trans child, is that i think i shipped the characters i did in an attempt to morph the concept of boy and girl? to find the boy counterpart to every girl??? that second one makes more sense actually. anyway, i digress

2 start off i definitely had gender feelings starting from a very young age so i think these observations ring more true than just reflections, PERHAPS

so the first thing i remember shipping, ie wanting them to be together, thinking about it an inordinate amount of time outside watching the films, even imagining them eating ice cream together in their pjs (i was NINE DHFJGghfkg) was jack sparrow & elizabeth swan from potc (basically my franchise of choice as a kid bc i never read harry potter) now this doesnt quite fit the “visually similar” thing bc actually orlando bloom looks more like kiera knightly and is prob due to them like making out in one movie, but i think this works for the “shipping as gender expression” theory, because elizabeth swan dressed up as a boy, spent most of that movie wearing boy’s clothes, etc- meanwhile jack was a wacky pirate which like hello duh i’d want to be. so i wonder if beyond the fact that they kissed and flirted, there was something to this concept of me wanting two characters to be together, meant i wanted to marry together two conceptual things happening with two characters, or absorb the cool dude and the boyish girl characters into each other to make one whole archetype for myself? i likewise shipped aang and toph (toph who, normally doesnt really have anyone to be shipped with, since she likes sokka but he has a gf) who we all know is the VERY boyish girl character, so boyish im p sure her actually being a trans dude later in life is a p decently accepted headcanon (i dont actually delve into aatla fandom though so i can only hope) 

another thing about this ship thing, is most of my ships had brown hair (like miley and oliver), just like i always have, and in certain cases the girl character would look a LOT like me (i also shipped logan and quinn on zoey 101, which to my surprise n delight actually came true later (although looking back im like... 11 yr old me is glad they made out a lot but adult me is like uhhh why were the kids on this show making out a lot? anyway thats another issue) and i def was a weirdo girl with glasses and long brown wavy hair) which sort of further fuels my feeling that this was an attempt by my brain to do 1 of 2 things, if my own involvement really was a greater motivating factor in this thing, 1. ship MYSELF with a boy (which is like def possible for my gay kinnie ass, but not quite my thesis here) or 2. morph these boy and girl counterparts by imagining them together, seeing them together, etc

for example, i realize now, when i was a kid i drew an avatar sona for myself and said sona looked an awful lot like how id imagine a katara/zuko fusion would be, and the fact that i shipped zutara (very hard lol) was what lead me down this thought path rn

i feel like even to me this concept sounds weird and far fetched but like, gem fusion made enough sense for someone to write with its clearly, usually, romantic implications and we all “get” that, so whom knows???

another thing ive noticed while writing this is for a good few of these ships you can argue the boys in them can be read gay, like jack sparrow and zuko and aang, which feels even more strongly like me trying to marry my gay boy feelings to my tomboy realities [thinking emoji]

the biggest reason i think this makes sense to me is because when i was 10 i became obsessed with the idea that this boy i was friends with and i were secretly twins separated at birth, like i was so into the concept that we looked alike, i like hoped and wished so hard for it to be true, i wished a christmas miracle would happen for fucking real and a magic door in my house would open and be his new room and itd all work out perfectly! and you might think this was a manifestation of my difficulties with my family and wishing to leave it, but in my dream world my parents were still my parents and he came to live with us- which makes me think the obsession of ME looking like this BOY was a manifestation of my gender feelings, which i think can maybe be traced to this concept of pairing a visually similar, possibly gay, brunette boy to every brunette and/or tomboyish girl

anyway. if you actually read all of this id love it if you lmk somehow (doesnt need to be a like) like this is clearly very long and strange but i hope it makes sense. i think i stop myself a lot from ever commenting on gender or theory or whatever but i am a living breathing trans person who has experienced things and i have opinions and i dont think im claiming anything destructive with this lol i think its not unusual to reflect on the way you interacted with the world as a gay/trans kid

also im obviously not saying that shipping straight things is somehow inherently queer, im not trying to retroactively claim something about straight ships, like, those two characters are still functionally straight, and i definitely also shipped probably all of them for normal shipping reasons (although, kid ones, so less “oh theres a lot of ACTUAL romantic subtext between these two” but rather “oh theyre friends and would be cute together!” (or like they kissed and i was like O: )) but im just trying to theorize about something its possible my tiny trans brain was trying to express- and who knows maybe im not the only one!

anyway i guess the TL;DR is: when i was a kid i had a lot of “unconventional” straight ships- i already observed that i eschewed the main canon pairings in kids media in what was probably my tiny baby brains rejection of hetero culture, but i also actively shipped side characters who looked like me, and also looked like each other (ie, both tall and brunette, a boy and girl counterpart of Each Other) OR characters who seemed to be a gayish boy and a tomboyish girl, and im theorizing that maybe the reason that was was my tiny trans brain wanting to gem fusion those two together because of my Gender Feelings and fuse the boy with the girl and this desire manifested in shipping therefore thinking about a lot these pairings of boy and girl counterparts

[harleyquilt]

Touken Fluff

Summary: just a short fic with a prompt generously given by @captainhunterman about an insecure pregnant Touka with Ken reassuring her. Nothing really exciting or great, but I've got nothing else haha. Hope you enjoy anyway...

Touka's face scrunched up, her frown deepening as she turned her swelled body in front of the mirror in front of her. She wore only her pajama bottoms and her maternity bra, her hand softly stroking the curve of her now large stomach, feeling the long lines of stretch marks underneath her light touch. With an agitated snarl, she plopped down onto her bed and grabbed kaneki's shirt from the floor, pulling it on with an angry tug.

Harsh insults swirled in her tired mind, insults she'd usually direct towards others now jabbing at her constantly about her new heavily pregnant look. Payback is a bitch, as nishiki might say. It got to the point where she'd even avoid kaneki at times until she changed into a more baggy shirt to try to hide her now unattractive figure. She knew already that he would never call her such a thing like 'unattractive,' but she couldn't help but feel repulsed at her own image whenever she passed her own reflection.

In a way, she wanted to show off her pregnant stomach, to let everyone know that inside was her and kaneki's baby that would soon be born into this world. She wanted nothing more than to look down to the chubby face of their child they already loved so much, to shower it with endless affection and joy as they both raised their child side by side. Even so, she didn't expect that she'd get so fat.

She dragged herself out of the bed she permanently stayed in most days and decided to join kaneki in the living room. It was still the morning, eleven to be exact, the room bright with the sunlight poured through from the opened balcony doors, a cool breeze drifted into the apartment, the room filled with incense that smelled faintly of coffee and vanilla. Kaneki sat around the kitchen island with two coffees besides him and a book in hand. He looked up from the page, almost as if he sensed touka's entrance, and peered over the rim of his round glasses, a bright smile replacing his thoughtful expression from before.

"Good morning, touka-chan." Kaneki beamed, placing his book and glasses down as touka walked over to take a seat besides kaneki. "I made you coffee."

"Thank you." Touka mumbled tiredly, taking the mug whilst noticing kaneki's eyes watching her movements as she took a taste, trying to hold back a chuckle from seeing kaneki's eager look for approval. "Delicious."

Eh, could be better.

With a small sigh, kaneki broke out to another smile and took a sip from his own coffee, wincing slightly from the taste.

"Ok, now I know you're lying." Kaneki laughed, pushing his mug away before he took touka's hands into his. "You look sleepy, why not sleep a bit longer?"

"I'm fine." She shook her head, lacing her fingers through his. "Besides, the bed gets cold without you."

"You should've just called me back. You know I can't say no to you." He chuckled, slipping off from his seat to stand behind touka and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. "Feeling warmer?"

"Yes." Touka giggled. "Though there are always other ways to warm up."

"Maybe we should try- wait, is this my shirt?" He pulled back a little to look down to his black shirt that hung from her arms and stretched slightly around her produced stomach. She nodded sheepishly, a slight blush on her face.

"They're comfy.." touka tried to justify herself, but kaneki silenced her with firm kiss.

"Don't worry, touka-chan. You look sexy like this. Ah, but...I'm noticing you're not wearing anything else but my shirts lately."

Touka shifted uncomfortably under his embrace, averting her gaze from kaneki's, who was still admiring her flustered look. She always looked so good in his shirts...

"Well, I..." She stumbled with her words, kaneki's hand squeezing hers with reassurance and there was a few moments of hesitation before she finally continued. "Your shirts are baggy."

Kaneki raised a brow, confused at such a reasoning. He knew that she preferred baggy clothes in the past when she was more of a tomboy teenager, but she wore a lot more feminine clothes after that phase. She especially loved wearing outfits that hugged her figure just to tease him daily. Perhaps it was something to do with the pregnancy? Though he had no idea why.

Touka watched him as he thought about her words carefully, over analysing them to try to find the solution to the puzzle that should've been simple for him and all the while, touka wanted to yell out to him about how much of a thick idiot he was. At times like these, she really wished kaneki was better at reading people - to admit such a childish problem was almost embarrassing for her. Plus, even if it was stupidly unrealistic, a part of her feared that he would somehow agree to her own cruel judgements about herself.

"I mean, I'm flattered that you like my clothes more-"

"I don't want my stomach to show, idiot." She shrank back a little, hiding her blushing face behind her mug as she downed the rest of her coffee.

Kaneki looked down to notice the slight bump shown through the shirt, though it was clear she was trying to hide the shape. Everything seemed clear all of a sudden judging by the agitated yet ashamed look written across her face. She looked so cute like this, but it was clear she was bothered by this issue of hers and so, he walked around until he stood in front of her and lifted her (technically, it was still his) shirt over the swelled stomach, touka freezing up as he smoothed his hand over the large bump.

"Do you think you don't look beautiful?" Kaneki asked softly, leaning down to kiss his stomach, imagining the child resting peacefully within.

"I..." Touka shivered, feeling his lips brush lightly against her skin. All of a sudden, she felt the urge of shoving down her shirt to hide her stomach from him, despite his actions. "I'm massive. There's nothing beautiful about that-"

"You're the most beautiful woman there is."

Kaneki trailed kisses up her stomach and rubbed small circles over her sides before he looked up to lock his eyes onto touka's. She seemed so needlessly nervous, her hands fidgeting with one another with an anxious frown on her brow. She had never taken compliments well, never once believing the endless amount of praises of her undeniable beauty from the people around her, but now, it was obvious that with the change in her figure, her pride had been wounded. If only she knew the image kaneki saw, the angelic beauty that radiated off her and lit up his world, the warmth he felt in his heart when he gazed at each and every feature of her more than perfect body. He could watch her for hours and never grow bored.

If only she knew.

Now that she was heavily pregnant, kaneki couldn't help but feel his pride and admiration grow when he looked down to her pregnant stomach and thought how that every time he caressed it, he grew excited with amazing possibilities of a life of them as parents with their own dearly loved child. These overwhelming emotions often left him a giddy mess, but it seemed touka wasn't convinced; her confidence had crumbled, shaken at the mere thought that her perfect beauty being ruined over such a silly thing. However, if she felt such a way, kaneki knew he had to convince her otherwise to heal this wound she inflicted upon herself, so that she knew that no matter how they may change, he will never stop loving her.

"Everything about you is beautiful." Kaneki whispered, cupping her face in between his hands. "Your eyes, that cute nose and those lips." He leaned in to plant a soft kiss against her lips to emphasise his point. " Your hair, your addictive voice, your body."

"But," touka shut her eyes, shaking her head slightly. "My body...it's changed so much. You can be honest if you don't think it's, you know, attractive."

Kaneki let out gentle laughter, startling touka slightly and when she opened her eyes, she saw kaneki smile softly, his eyes rested on hers as he let out a small sigh, his thumbs moving back and forth against her cheeks.

"You're so silly, touka-chan." Touka felt the urge to come up with a snarky remark, but remained silent when he moved his hands down her arms to her hands. "You really thought that I'd think any less of you because you're pregnant?" He laughed some more whilst he brought up her hands and planted another kiss at the back of her palms. "If only you knew what I saw. You're so pretty, touka, and you look even more beautiful like this. To think that our child is in here-" He places her hands over her stomach with his hands on top of hers. "Means the world to me."

"Even though I'm fat?" Kaneki bursted out laughing then, but quieted down to small chuckles after touka lightly hit his arm.

"Of course. What kind of husband would I be if I didn't?"

Touka then broke into a smile, her eyes downcasted with some embarrassment at her own stupid paranoia of the whole situation. To hear such words sent a wave of reassurance through her, the feeling of his hands over hers as they both felt her stomach made her heart flutter. He was so sweet that to think that kaneki would consider such harsh thoughts was almost a funny image at this point and she was glad - he may be thicker than pea soup, but he can be a real romantic when he wanted to be.

"Oh!" Touka's eyes widened as she stared at where their hands were, her body tensed up slightly. "There's a kick."

Before kaneki could speak, she lifted her hands and moved kaneki's down to where the baby was kicking. Kaneki held in a breath at the feeling, the small little bumps against his hand sending a flurry of butterflies in his stomach.

Touka watched as his eyes lit up with astonishment, a smile growing wider with every moment. He looked so amazed that it reminded touka how much of a great father kaneki would become. A father...and she'll be a mother. Sometimes, it was still hard to believe but every time that image sunk in, she couldn't help but feel a surge of hope sweep through her, her grip over kaneki's hand tightening. With her grip pulling him out of his trance, kaneki looked back up to face touka and he must've had the same thought as he the leaned his head against hers and said simply,

"We will finally become a family."

In the end, that's all they really wanted - a family.

[pagan-raider]

Conquer You - Chapter 7

I finally managed to finish the next chapter. I’m really grateful for anyone who is still reading this. Your likes and comments are the air I breath. Thank you all so much!!

And a special thanks to my talented sister @underthenorthstar who made this awesome moodboard.

@tomboy-till-death @ladyvampirelove @neverlands-little-lost-girl @itharley@samantha24015 @peculiarleah @skeletoresinthebasement @thenorns-themoirai @kirah31 @ruler-of-hel

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

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Thyra woke up to angry voices in front of her door. The room around her was quiet and dark, it must have been still in the middle of the night. She listened closely and let out a groan as she recognized Astrid’s voice. Can’t she tell off the servants during daytime? Thyra hadn’t slept much the past two nights since Ivar had told her to leave. She was altogether exhausted from tossing around in her bed, waiting for the sleep that refused to come, the image of Ivar’s icy eyes glaring at her never going away. With a sigh she pulled the blanket over her head and closed her eyes, only to jump up straight when she heard another voice – Ivar. She couldn’t understand what he was saying but it was undoubtedly him.

Her exhaustion left immediately and was replaced by curiosity and worry as Astrid spoke again, her voice urgent and angry. Within a second Thyra was out of her bed and at the door. The scene that met her when she opened it made her mouth fall open. Ivar was sitting on the steps that led up to the throne and Astrid was right in front of him staring daggers at him, while three shieldmaidens had their bows ready, sharp arrowheads pointing straight at Ivar.

“What is going on? Astrid, what are you doing?” Thyra asked, unable to comprehend what was happening.

Ivar turned to look at her as she approached and Thyra thought his features had softened for a moment before he resumed glaring at Astrid with nothing but hate and disgust on his face, but maybe she had just imagined it.

Astrid on the other hand gave her a triumphant and self-pleased grin. “Your lover here” - she literally spat out the word -  “sneaked in here in the middle of the night, intending to kill our queen. Luckily we could stop him before it was too late.”

Thyra stared from Astrid to Ivar and to the arrows still pointed right at him. Her heart felt as if an icy fist had closed around it. Could Astrid be right? Ivar had sworn to kill Lagertha and Thyra had no doubt that he intended to keep his promise. She herself had found him here in the great hall at night just a few weeks ago and never told anyone. Had her feelings for him made her turn a blind eye to the threat he was representing? Guilt and worry mixed and almost made her stomach turn. She searched for Ivar’s gaze but he refused to look at her.

“Go back to bed, Thyra.” Astrid said. “We can deal with him without you. You don’t have to watch.” She added with an evil grin.

Cold fear took hold of Thyra. Would Astrid really go this far? She tried her best to keep her voice from trembling. “We should wake Lagertha. She’ll decide what to do with him.”

“We should end this, now and for all. And you should finally decide which side you are on.” With that Astrid raised her hand, ready to give the shieldmaidens the signal to release their arrows.

Ivar just stared at them with defiant eyes, chin held high, no emotion showing on his face, while Thyra watched with growing terror. Right as she thought the tension would break her, the door in the very back of the hall flew open and Lagertha marched in.

“What in the name of Odin is going on in here?” She demanded to know.

Astrid gave the same explanation she had given Thyra, her hand still in the air ready to give the signal if her captive tried to move.

“Why wasn’t I informed?” Lagertha asked.

“I did not want to disturb you.” Astrid said. “And there’s only one way to deal with an assassin anyways.”

“It was my order that no one was to harm the sons of Ragnar.” Lagertha reminded her.

“Lagertha, he has sworn to kill you and now he comes here in the middle of the night, armed. I think his intentions are clear. You can’t ignore this threat any longer.” Astrid looked at the queen in an almost conspiratorially way. “Let me deal with him.”

Thyra was shocked to see Lagertha actually consider what Astrid had suggested. The queen’s face was mostly unmoved as the seconds passed. To Thyra it felt like hours, she didn’t even realize she was biting her lip until she tasted blood. The quiet in the great hall felt almost unbearable. Thyra knew that Lagertha wouldn’t take that decision lightly, but once she had made up her mind it was carved in stone. Just a single nod of her head would be enough for Astrid to give the signal. Thyra felt as if her light nightgown was tightening around her chest as fear and tension made it hard for her breath.

Maybe she should just let this happen. Everything would be back to normal. It was her duty to protect the queen, no matter the cost. Under any other circumstances she would be in Astrid’s place, not hesitating to kill whoever was threatening Lagertha. But things had changed, her life wasn’t as easy as it used to be. And deep inside of her she knew that she couldn’t let this happen, that she would never be able to forgive herself if she did. Astrid was right, she had to make a decision.

“No.” She said firmly, stepping between Ivar and the shieldmaidens, the seer’s words echoing in her head: There’s only one path for you know.

Suddenly all the eyes were on her, surprise written in all of them. Ivar was no exception. He looked at her in pure shock, but his expression soon turned into one of awe as she stepped closer to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

Astrid was the first to come out of her baffled state. “I knew it.”

“What does that mean, Thyra?” Lagertha raised an eyebrow at her, looking confused.

“It means that I have made my decision.” She announced with a glare at Astrid before turning back to Lagertha. “And that I won’t allow anyone to harm this man.”

To her surprise the queen’s features slowly turned into a knowing smile.

“Bows down.” Lagertha ordered the shieldmaidens. Then her gaze fixated on Ivar. “Why have you come here, Ivar Ragnarson?”

Ivar just raised his chin and glared darkly at her, clearly not intending to answer her questions. Thyra shot him a pleading look, worried that his stubbornness and barely hidden aggression would make the queen rethink her decision.

Instead of answering Lagertha’s question, he turned to look at Thyra and his features softened a little. “I came to see you.” He paused, his eyes darting around the room, clearly he was considering whether or not to continue. “I came to tell you that I was sorry.” He said, much more quiet now.

Thyra felt her mouth fall open. That was the last thing she had expected. She was speechless. He had almost gotten himself killed, only to apologize to her? It was so unlike his usual demeanor that she felt her heart melt. All she could do was smile at him, hoping that her eyes would tell him what she wasn’t able to put in words at moment.

“Thyra, you will escort Ivar out. Make sure that he goes home.” Lagertha’s voice pulled her back into reality. “And come straight back.” She added with a small grin. “I want to talk to you.”

Thyra nodded and Lagertha strode back to her chambers, making clear that the issue was settled.

The relief Thyra felt was almost physical, as if a deep ache was leaving her and seeing Astrid’s grumpy face only made it better.

Ivar shot Astrid one last hateful glare before he let himself down to the ground and started crawling towards the door. From now on Lagertha wouldn’t be the only one to sleep with one eye open, Thyra was sure of that.

She followed Ivar out into the chilly night. They both stayed quiet as they made their way through the sleeping town. Every now and then Thyra felt Ivar’s eyes on her and it was only then that she became aware that she was only clad in a thin nightgown that was barely hiding anything. After the troubling events of the night she hadn’t thought of putting on a cloak.

They had almost reached the cabin as Ivar broke the silence. “Don’t worry, Lagertha still trusts you.”

Thyra looked at him in surprise. “How do you know?”

He gave her a look as if the question was entirely stupid. “Do you really think that she would have sent you away with me if she thought you were conspiring with me against her?”

“Probably not.” Thyra had to agree.

They soon reached the cabin and Thyra was desperately thinking about something to say. There was so much that needed to be said, but still she couldn’t find any words to express how she felt. Tonight Ivar had proved that he genuinely cared for her – even if it was in a stupid way. She still couldn’t believe it, Ivar the Boneless, who she had thought cared for no one except himself and his own wants, had risked his life only to apologize to her. And now she had stated her feelings for him in front of everyone. How would that change their relationship? Was there even the slightest chance that they could be together? They were still on different sides. If one day Ivar really tried to kill Lagertha, it would still be her duty to do anything to stop him. The seer’s words came back to her mind. She had to stop him. And preferably without having to kill him.

“Wait here.” Ivar interrupted her thoughts and before she could say anything he had slipped into the cabin.

Only seconds later he came back out and handed her a dark cloak. “It is cold. And even more important I don’t want any other man to see you like this.” He said with a smirk.

As she took the cloak from him he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down to him. His hand travelled up her arm and around her neck as he pulled her closer. Soon his lips melted into hers and Thyra let out a small sigh, only now fully realizing how much she had missed him. His hands traveling down her body made her skin heat up, the thin fabric of her nightgown barely being a barrier between his curious hands and the curves of her body. She softly moaned into his mouth and tangled her hands into his growing hair. All she wanted was to stay like this forever and forget about everything else, but she knew that if she really wanted a future with Ivar, she couldn’t lose her grip on reality. There was still so much that they needed to work out.

She granted herself another moment to take in the taste of his mouth and the feeling of his body against hers, then she steeled herself and broke the kiss. “Ivar, we really need to talk.”

He frowned for a moment but then nodded. “I know.” He searched for her gaze. “Once your interrogation is over, will you come back to me?” He almost seemed fearful that she could say no.

“I will. I promise.”

[angry-fishy8]

A story that'll never be published

I remember that night. We talked till the sun came up and you kissed me. Not like I was wanting or the kind you were hoping, but I think that's when we finally learned that there was something. I don't think I wanted to admit it, and neither did you,  so we kind of just forgot about that night. I mean why would we? I was plain and you were Mr. Fourteen. I gave up on closing myself because you told me to open up. God, looking at it, we were so stupid. But I'm not saying that being angry. I'm saying that with a huge smile on my face." +

I don't remember when I fell asleep but I woke up around three. Tyler still wasn't there so it made me worried. Are you really that mad at me? I just wanted to sleep but my brain wouldn't shut off. +

I grabbed one of Tyler's hoodies and grabbed a blanket. I didn't have an exact place where I wanted to go, but I didn't want to be in the hotel right now. I know I could've just went to talk to Brooklynn, but she'd just tell me off. +

When I had gone outside, the crisp fall air hit my legs before anywhere else. I guess shorts were a mistake. +

While I was walking I was replaying everything that happened today. Why would Tyler be so mad just because he pushed me away? I mean I guess in hind sight what I said after didn't really help. +

"I promised I wouldn't hurt you and that wasn't enough!" +

"It was!" I yelled. +

"Are you sure? Because everyone thinks that I'm the one trying." +

"What am I supposed to do, I told you I didn't want to ruin our friendship! Here we are! And here you are getting ready to leave." I grab his coat and threw it at him. "Do it, like everyone else." +

"Kate, this is just you worrying." he said calmingly. +

"GO! I DON'T CARE ANYMORE!" +

"Is that what you really want?" +

"You're gonna do it anyways! Might as well let me do it on my terms." I cried. "Because that's what you want right? To leave? It's obvious, you've wanted that for a while." I looked away while he stepped closer. "Leave." +

He stood there for a moment. +

"I really did love you." +

I could feel everything crumble. After a while of not responding, he left. And everything I had to offer did too. +

I sat down at the park where Mrs. K and us talked. I just sat staring at the stars waiting for something to happen. +

"Kate, sweetie, it's time for school." I heard my mom sit on the opposite side of my bed. "You've been here all weekend." +

I didn't pull the covers from my head but I'd been awake the entire night. +

"Bumblebee." I whispered. +

"Are you sure?" She put her hand on my leg rubbing it. "It's the last one for the semester." +

"Yes please." +

"I'll call the school and tell them you've been sick all weekend. You have your concert tonight though." She kissed my head. "Don't let this bring you down." +

Brooklynn: You left me alone all weekend and now? +

Kate: We broke up. +

She didn't reply. And I stayed awake just watching my wall. That was enough. +

There was a shooting star and that's what pulled me from my thoughts. I laughed. +

Story continues below

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By tammzzy

939 15

He smirked, leaned in closer not that I thaught it was possible. My heartrare picked up as he lowered his mouth to my ear. "you my love. you are lying to yourself. You know the truth about yourself but you wont admit to it" "You can't deny me nor yourself any longer my dear beacuse your feelings is just so strong it's so powerful it glows out of you on it's own. A blind guy could feel that accros the street- it's that strong." he said "In your dreams lover boy" I said hoping he doesn't see my nervousness. "I know you are" he smirked ----------_______--------- I was always the tomboy of the school. The guys saw me as one of the 'guys' and talked to me like I was one of the 'guys'. Then one fatefull holliday I got a oppertunity for two years to go to Italy and Paris for a modelling contrac. First of al let me tell you a little about myself .My parents had twelfe kids, all boys exept for me and each one of us has a twin and the fist letter of our name is the same. My parents died when I was 2 years old . I have three best friends and one of them is a boy, so just imagine twelfe protective boy's not wanting me to go to Paris and Italy. After A LOT of fighting they agreed to let me go. So here I am two years later infront of my brothers " huge house" as he likes to call it with probably more than a dozen boy's inside waiting for me to come home. "Oh The Joy". Note the sarcasm what will happen when the badboy of the school begins to have intrest in her? What happens when he's forst to move away to help his mother? Will he ever come back? Will he remember her? And what will happen if he comes back? Will they be just as close As before?

You're Mine

By HeyItzMJ

3.6M 115K

"You're mine. And no one else's, got that?" Hunter asked looking down at me with a serious expression displayed on his face.

Silence is Golden

By RobThier

13.7M 850K

Silent. Cold. Chiselled perfection. That is Rikkard Ambrose, the most powerful business mogul in Great Britain. Free-spirited. Fiery. Definitely NOT attracted to the aforementioned business mogul. That is Lilly Linton, his personal secretary and secret weapon. The two have been playing a cat and mouse game for months. So far, Lilly has been able to fight down and deny her attraction to Mr Ambrose. But what happens when suddenly, the dark secrets of his past begin to surface and they are forced to go on a perilous journey into the South-American jungle? A journey they can only survive if they band together? Book 3 in the Watty-Award-winning "Storm and Silence" series.

Prince with benefits

By gabycabezut

77.2M 1.2M

***Published under Pop Fiction Books & Featured by Wattpad*** Emily Gonzalez's fiance, Sam, is handsome, has a good job and loves her-or at least that's what she thinks. But getting married has never felt right for her. What girl in her right mind would have nightmares about her wedding day anyway? Her fairy-tale love story suddenly ends when she catches Sam with another woman. Hurt and humiliated, Emily decides to cancel the wedding and jet off to England, hoping to start anew. Only days after her moving to England, she meets a guy, Scott. Emily can't stop thinking about him: his chocolaty eyes, his messy head of hair, and the way he makes her laugh. But there's a huge catch to this almost-perfect guy: he's the prince of England. For real. Is it possible to fall in love while the whole world is closely watching your romantic story unfold, or worse, waiting to see it fail? Or this will be the happily ever after Emily has been longing for? Highest-ranking: Romance #1 *Wattpad edition is my first draft. It has a gazillion mistakes and hasn't been edited. Sorry about that.*

Chasing Red

By isabelleronin

150M 4.8M

Chasing Red will be published in September and Always Red in November 2017! Available in ebook and paperback on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks and Google Play. Links on my profile :) * When cynical straight-A college student Veronica Strafford gets kicked out of her apartment, notorious basketball player Caleb Lockhart offers her a place to stay. Intensely drawn to her, Caleb wants something for the first time in his life and pursues her. But Veronica's painful past is catching up to her, and her heart might just be the one thing Caleb can't win. * I'm the last thing she wants in her life. She keeps expecting me to disappoint her, to leave, but I'm here to stay. She owns me. It's as simple as that. She was fire and I wanted her to burn me. Like a moth to a flame, I could not resist. She was broken. A puzzle that was missing a few pieces. Maybe I'd carve my own pieces to complete her. They said she was going to be my ruin. ...then let her ruin me. WARNING: This story contains mature scenes and features another couple. Enter at your own risk. Chasing Red. Copyright © 2014. All Rights Reserved.

"You weren't even that special." I whispered. +

"There'll be a day you can say you're okay and mean it." I sang. Secret for the mad by Dodie was the one thing that helped me when I was down. +

"I promise you, it'll all make sense again." +

"That's the song you want to sing for Senior Night?" Mrs. K asked. +

"Why not?" I laughed. +

"It just doesn't seem like you, I mean it fits your vocal tone beautifully, and the vibrato in your voice is lovely with it." +

"But?" +

"Sweetie." She patted my arm, "We can talk if you want." +

"I know." I fake smiled. "I think when I'm fully ready, you'll be the first person I'll talk to you. I promise." +

"Alright then, I'll remember that." she smiled. "How's college searching?" +

"I found a great culinary arts school." +

"Culinary Arts? Like your father?" +

"Through everything he put me through, our best memories are cooking." I played with my ring finger. "It's all I know." +

"And music sweetie." +

"Yeah, but I'll never be good enough for that," +

"I thought the same thing once. And here I am" +

I smiled. That was the best memory between us. I mean there are a million great memories, but the one on one moments are the best. +

"Kate?" I heard Tyler say. +

I covered up in the blanket more as he sat by me. +

"What are you doing here?" +

"I couldn't sleep." I said looking up at the stars. "Never seems to shut off when I want it to." +

"Same." He whispered. +

"I think I owe you an apology." +

"For?" +

"I'm not sure." +

"Then don't" he said sweetly. "Don't do that to yourself. If you said sorry for every time I did something wrong, then you'll never trust me." +

"But what did you do?" +

"What did you do?" +

"I let you leave and didn't talk it out with you." +

He laughed. "I didn't want you to feel obligated to. If you need space that's what I'm more than happy to give you." +

"Wait." +

"Yes that's why I left." he wrapped his hands around his legs. "What were you thinking about that couldn't make you sleep." +

I laughed. "Seeing Mrs. K today and talking about my fidget just made some unhappy memories pop up." +

"Like Alec?" +

"Yeah." He didn't respond so I pushed myself. "Is there anything you really want to know about my past?" +

He looked up at me but I didn't turn towards him. +

"Uhm no not really." +

"Come on, I won't lie." +

"Okay. Why do you play with your ring finger?" +

"Ahh the basics." I laughed, "I caught it when I first met Alec. He used to comment on how I would be a "beautiful bride". It was basically his way of trying to have me open up. Our friends would call him future husband and after a while we'd laugh about it. The first time he'd ever held my hand, he grabbed my hand and played with my ring finger." I started to rub it. "For Christmas, he bought me a little ring to put on it so I had something to play with. It was the first time he'd shown that he liked me. I always thought it was a game with him." +

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"So you didn't trust him when you first met him?" +

"No," I looked at the stars, "I didn't really like trusting guys." +

"Why?" +

"My dad." I grinned, "How cliché? The one guy who should give me unconditional love and make me think I'm really beautiful, actually made me think the opposite." +

"Did he ever-" +

"No, all emotional trauma. If I wore something tight fitting, he'd call me too fat. If I wore makeup it was too much. If I was asked out, he'd ask who'd ask me out. After a while I started to wear long sleeved shirts and pants every day. Even in the summer. Then my sophomore year, I didn't eat, and he'd tell me off. Asking why am I taking the easy way out. How is starving yourself to a certain image the easy way out? I had started to get so bad, I fainted in certain times. Basically anything he saw wrong with me, I saw wrong with myself times ten." +

"Oh." Was his only response. +

"Next question?" +

"Uhm, do you ever think you could fall in love again?" +

My heart stopped. "Sometimes I wonder that myself. But then I ask am I really capable of it?" +

"What do you mean?" +

"Like, I love seeing people in love. It's beautiful. Not just the honeymoon stage, but when you see a couple and know, yeah they fight, but they choose to give each other space, to think about if the fight was important or not. Then they pretend it didn't happen or they move passed it. It makes them stronger. It's like the strongest friendship, but more. I see that and I think, am I capable of that?" +

"And?" +

"I mean that's what we did." I didn't look at him but I saw from the corner of my eye that his mouth slightly opened. "I'm not saying I'm in love with you, but I'm also not saying I wouldn't be able to." +

"With me?" +

"With anyone." His jaw clenched. "The idea of opening up to someone scares me." I continued. "Think of it, if the men who are supposed to love you, support you, treat you with respect and dignity, if they chose to do the opposite, could you learn to love or even fathom the idea of it?" +

"I have." It was his turn. "My mom, we have a strange relationship, it's nothing like you and your dad, but it's close. She blamed me for my sister getting sick, when we first found out, and when I wanted to come and listen to what the doctors had to say, she'd just tell me no. She'd blame me for it." +

"I'm so sorry.." +

"Well after awhile I gave up on our relationship, how can you blame someone who had no iea what was going on?" +

"You can't." +

"But she did." his voice broke. "I think that's why I have such a strange relationship with girls, "Jennifers and Carries" they make it easy. Because I can shut it down. I can just refuse to get close to them, and they'll take a hint. Other than my sister, I've never had a strong connection with woman." +

"So you're scared." I said silently. "Of being hurt again. Of trying to jump and not knowing if that person is going to catch you or just leave." +

We didn't say anything for a while. But I took his hand. It wasn't in the romantic sense. I wanted him to know I'm willing to catch him if he was willing to do the same. Neither of us knew how to connect with someone of the opposite sex, and just grabbing his hand, it was the first step. +

"Together," I started. "I want us to take baby steps together." +

"In a romantic way?" +

I laughed, "No bozo, in a platonic way. Neither you nor I have any real sense on trust. you preach to me about dating but you've yet to notice we're in the same boat." I nudged him. "So why not take the same ride and see where we go." +

"As friends?" +

"As friends." +

"And if one day, one of us decides we want something more?" he squeezed my hand but he couldn't tell he was squeezing my heart too. +

"Then the other one has to be just as ready." I looked at him. "Deal?" +

"Is this your idea of asking me out in the future?" +

"No." I smiled noticing he was leaning in closer. "Because neither of us know if this'll work." +

"I have a pretty good idea that it will." He said inches from my face. Just before I could pull away he kissed me on the forehead. "When you're ready." He whispered. +

We sat there for a moment looking at each other and for a moment I could feel every negative thought drift away. He smiled and it made me smile just as wide. +

"There you are!" I heard a female voice squeal and I jumped away from him. "Tyler you forgot your key in my car." +

"Oh uhm thanks Lacey." He coughed. +

"Who's this?" we asked in unison. +

"Oh Lacey this is Kate the friend I told you about, Kate this is Lacey, I met her in a bar on my walk." +

And all the bad thoughts were back but they weren't about me. No they were about Lacey and Tyler. He looked at me and under the blankets squeezed my hand. +

"Pleasure meeting you Lacey." I smile letting go of Tyler's hand and getting up, "I guess you two should continue getting to know each other." +

"Are you his girlfriend?" The young blonde asked. +

"No." Tyler said before I could, "We're just friends." +

"Then why is she wearing a hoodie with your last name?" She pointed her hand at me. +

"Believe it or not friends share clothes." I laugh taking it off and handing it to her. "Believe me when I say, if he remembered your name after a while, you've got no threat from me. I'm just a friend." I strained. "Anyways, I need to pack, I've gotta get back to Pueblo tomorrow." +

Tyler stood up and grabbed my hand, "But we weren't supposed to go back till Monday." +

"Silly me, I forgot I put in a three day weekend." I smiled. "Again it was nice meeting you Lacey, you're in great hands with him." +

And I walked back to the hotel without my blanket, his hoodie, or a clear mind. +

"Stupid." I whispered to myself