#or i could just have all men and we could ignore what that says abt my gender aspirations

[vigilskeep]

if i do aeducan keir arthur then i end up with a pc of each class AND a romance of each class (delightful, soul healing). that’s the whole agenda here

[astrophileous]

fem!reader x derek morgan, where they're like really flirty and i mean like kissing, holding hands, reader sits on his lap.

and after a case hotch is like yelling at derek because they had a disagreement, and reader comes in and was like "stop yelling at my best friend!" and he freezes because he genuinely thought that they were dating.

and they get teased n shit, and later reader cant sleep so derek is playing with her hair and he mumbles "i love you." and she says it back, and her words are slurred because shes so tired.

ty for the request honey!! I changed a few details abt it, I hope that's okay?? The main gist is still the same tho so I hope you like this ❤️

Warning(s): fem!reader, profanities, angst a lil bit bcs Derek is having inner turmoil, mutual pining (they're both idiots)

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"It wasn't his fault."

Your voice cut through the silence as an unforeseen rapier. Every pair of eyes in the station fell on you in instinct. You despised the attention with every fiber of your being, but in that moment, there was nothing you wouldn't do to save Derek from being appointed as the fall guy, including offering yourself up as a temporary human spectacle as you stepped forward to where the three men were huddled up.

"Agent (Y/L/N)," Hotch warned in his familiar commanding lull.

"Sweet girl," Derek's voice came a little quieter, "what are you doing?"

You ignored your two fellow teammates as you faced the tall man between them. "I'm sorry, Sheriff. We never intended to overstep your authority. We didn't know the witness was one of our UnSubs when we visited his house. Agent Morgan was only acting in favor of my safety, so really, if there's anyone you should be mad at, it should be me."

The sheriff assessed you with rancorous eyes before turning back towards Hotch. "Get your team under control, Agent. Remember that y'all are a guest here."

With that last message, the sheriff walked away and disappeared into his office. Hotch turned to you and Derek following the sheriff's departure. "We'll talk about this later."

Once Hotch was out of earshot, Derek pulled you towards him. The rest of the station had already returned towards their previous tasks, safe for several pairs of eyes belonging to your other team members who seemed too eager to catch a snippet of your conversation with Derek. Before you could reprimand them, Derek's voice suddenly erupted, "What the hell are you doing?"

You turned your head and frowned. "What?"

"Why did you say all of that stuff to the sheriff, sweetheart?"

"Because it's the truth? You did make that call because you were protecting me, right?"

"I did, but you still didn't need to do any of that. I can take care of it myself."

"Derek—" you sighed, plopping your hand right on top of his shoulder, "—I know you can take care of pretty much everything by yourself, but I don't want you cleaning up my mess just for the sake of our relationship. Let me handle it on my own, okay?"

A hot remark was ready on the tip of Derek's tongue, but the words were soon forgotten when he heard the single word that cut off the circulation completely from his brain. Dumbfoundedly, he stared at you as he said, "Relationship?"

"Well, yeah." You smiled, dragging your hand upward from his shoulder until you were cupping his cheek. "You're my best friend, Derek."

Just as fast as you had flown him to the clouds, you sent Derek plummeting straight towards the ground where he imploded into pieces. The man could barely register the feeling of your lips on his other cheek before he watched you stride away, leaving him standing in the middle of the station like a deer caught in headlights.

"You're my best friend, Derek," Emily teased from where she was standing a few feet away. Behind her, JJ and Spencer were laughing along. "Seriously, why don't you two just make it official already?"

Derek flipped the three of them off, earning another series of laughter from his coworkers before he walked off towards the direction of the pantry. In the back of his head, Emily's question lingered like a shallow wind.

Seriously, why don't you two just make it official already?

Maybe because Derek thought you were official.

But apparently, according to you, you weren't.

So what the hell did that kiss that the two of you shared at the end of your last movie night even mean?

For the rest of the team's stay in Pasco, Florida, the ambiguous status of your relationship became a permanent fixture in Derek's mind. It haunted him even after he boarded the BAU's jet, preparing for the flight back home towards Quantico, Virginia. He was too lost in his own world that he didn't realize you had been calling out his name until your hand touched his cheek.

"Hey, you okay?" you asked worriedly.

Derek was sitting on the long sofa at the end of the cabin; and you, as always, were lying on the same sofa with your head resting on his lap. He still remembered the first time the two of you assumed this habit on the jet, receiving cheeky glances and playful jabs from the rest of the team in the aftermath. The teasing had dwindled significantly by now. Everyone was so used to the sight that it didn't warrant a surprised reaction anymore.

Derek, on the other hand, didn't think he could get accustomed to this.

As he stared down towards your inquisitive eyes, Derek realized that the sight of your face still took his breath away as much as it did the first time he laid eyes upon you. He brought down a finger and ran them up and down your cheek, his heart inflating when you rewarded him with a gleaming smile.

"Wanna come over tonight? We didn't finish that movie last week," you offered.

At the mention of your last movie night, Derek's mind traveled back to the memory of your kiss. It was nothing grand, just a five-seconds heaven where Derek's tongue had tasted remnants of the wine you shared and a little something else that he was sure had uniquely belonged to you. He sealed it with another peck on your forehead after that, wishing you a good night rest and a fantastic dream as he left the comfort of your apartment.

Derek couldn't sleep that night. After all, that was the best kiss the man had ever had in his entire life; but it looked like you hadn't felt the same way as him about it at all.

This knowledge was a stake right through Derek's heart. Everything tasted bitter as he swallowed, and perhaps that was reason enough to why the next words tumbled out of his lips in a reply, "Sorry, sweet girl. I've got errands to run. Next time?"

Derek pretended not to see the way your face collapsed in disappointment at his answer.

Back at his own apartment, Derek proceeded to spend a whole hour flipping through TV channels until his hand was numb. Many of his nights lately were spent in your company, and as the surrounding solitude closed in on him, Derek realized that he didn't remember how to spend nights by himself anymore. He was absentmindedly changing the channel yet again when his finger suddenly stopped frozen on the remote.

Your favorite movie was showing on the TV screen.

Perhaps it was ludicrous to claim that seeing the movie he had always associated with you appear on his TV was a celestial omen, but Derek deemed it an enough sign for him to get his ass off the couch and drove all the way down to your apartment. He stood in front of your door not even twenty minutes later, having sped through traffic as if he were invincible to every threat on the roads. You opened the door for him on the third knock, your eyes blown so widely out of proportion when you spotted him standing on your doorway.

"Derek? What are you doing here?"

"Sweet girl, are you... have you been crying?"

"No."

"Don't lie to me." Derek took two steps forward, closing the front door behind him as he was finally standing inside your apartment. "What's going on, sweetheart?"

His question managed to break the last dam in your ribcage, sending you straight into another flood of uncontrollable tears. You leaped into Derek's arms out of the blue, cramming your face into his chest as your tears soaked the front part of his shirt.

"I'm sorry, Derek. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? What are you sorry for, sweet girl?"

"T-The kiss. We shouldn't have done that. We shouldn't have k-kissed. It was a mistake."

Derek's stomach crashed squarely towards the ground. "A mistake?"

You nodded against his chest, pulling away to stare directly at Derek's face. Your eyes were red and puffy from hours of crying, and yet, Derek still thought you were the most heavenly creature he had ever seen in his entire life.

"That's w-why you've been acting strange, right? The kiss? Y-You're mad at me because of the kiss?"

"Wait. What—"

"I-I didn't... fuck—I didn't mean for everything to come to this. I never meant t-to make you run from me like this. I'm so, so sorry."

"Sweetheart—"

"I can pretend! Please, I can pretend like it never happened. T-That's what you want, r-right? I can forget about the kiss as long as—"

You didn't have the chance to finish your sentence.

Not when Derek suddenly pressed his lips against yours, seizing the words and the breath thoroughly out of your throat.

Butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach. Nothing else mattered in the world except for Derek's hands on your skin and the way his tongue danced with yours as he deepened the kiss even further. You could've spent the rest of eternity kissing him like this if it weren't for the need to come up for air. That was the singular reason why you even agreed to pull away at last, albeit reluctantly.

"Derek?" Your voice was thin and fragile amidst the quietude of your home. "I don't understand... I thought—"

"No, sweetheart," Derek cut you off, leaving a quick peck on your lips because he couldn't help himself. "Remember in Florida when you called me your best friend? I thought that was your way of telling me you regretted the kiss."

"What? So... you weren't mad at me?"

"No, of course not." He scoffed incredulously. "How could I ever be mad at you?"

"I just thought—"

"Hey, look at me." Derek tilted your face by the chin until you were looking directly into his eyes. "I'm yours, (Y/N). Do you understand?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I'm yours, too, Derek. Forever."

Derek spent the night at your home afterward. Although it wasn't the first time he stayed over, something about it felt fresh and brand new as he lay on your bed as officially yours while you lay next to him as officially his. He nuzzled your body flush against him, entangling every inch of your limbs with his own as he listened to the steady intakes and outtakes of your breathing.

"I love you, sweetheart," Derek murmured against your hair, playing with the end of the strands as he heard you let out another tired sigh. "You know that, right?"

"Hmm? I love you, too," you mumbled blearily, burrowing yourself deeper into his warmth before sleep finally took over your whole being.

Safe to say, you had the best sleep that night than you ever did in your entire lifetime.

[flwoie]

TABLE TENNIS — KIM DONGHYUN

☆ when vandalizing your seat by writing how you’re done with love creates more vandalism by a response the next day in blue sharpie.

STARRING ≻ schoolmate! leehan x gn! reader (guest star : danielle of nwjns) GENRE ≻ romcom small angst hs au heavily inspired by that one scene from ‘para sa hopeless romantic' (PLEASE U GUYS SHOULD WATCH IT, ITS SO GOOD) CONTAINS ≻ vandalism (duh) so many timestamps and im sorry abt it WORD COUNT ≻ 682 (not proofread im sorry i gave up on using grammar checkers)

🗯️ sona's back with the weird ass titles??? dont know a slick about bnd but here i am. hope you’ll like this anon 😊

You're done with love.

This is the fourth time you've gone on a date with some weird guy. They keep getting worse every time. Your first date couldn't stop talking and not letting you say a word, followed by your second one, who didn't want to pay for his food, and your third one, well, he couldn't stop calling you insecure—when you weren't. If your friend sets you up on another one, you might as well just go for the first one.

She shows you Instagram profiles of other boys who find you interesting—from what she's heard by others. You interrupt her and slightly push her phone away from your face.

"Y/N, trust me, they're not going to be as bad as the others!" She urges.

"You said that last time. I'm done, Danielle." You clicked on the top of your pen and started jotting words down on your wooden desk.

'I'M DONE WITH LOVE!'

You pointed out your writing on the table to Danielle, making her roll her eyes.

'Wow, emo. Are you heartbroken?'

Those were the words that were written below yours in blue sharpie when you walked into class the next day. You pulled out a pen and wrote down your response next to theirs.

'Not really. Men just irritate me. Speaking of which, are you a guy?'

Danielle walks in and sits next to you, observing that you're not only writing on your table but also smiling ear to ear.

"What's got you smiling now?"

"Look," you say, tapping on the ink engraved on the table, "someone replied to my vandal." She leans in to read your messages.

"Very modern," she sarcastically remarks. "Who knows, that could be the love of your life."

"You're crazy. What 'love of my life' are you talking about? We don't even know anything about them."

She nudges your arm after she puts her notebooks on her desk. "But, Y/N, admit it. You're excited," she teases.

Leehan eagerly walks into class as it is about to start and quickly sits down in his seat to look at your response. He grins and looks around to see if any of his classmates saw him.

He waited for everyone to leave after his class ended. His friend urges him to leave with him so they'll do their project, but all he replies is that he'll follow along. As his friend left, he popped off the cap of his sharpie and replied to your message.

'Not all men, I'm different from them.'

You looked at the message and started writing your response as you waited for your teacher to start class.

"What if we skipped our next class? So we can see who's answering your messages," Danielle suggests.

"No way. We're going to be absent from our next class just because you're curious about who's answering."

"Nuh uh, it's for love."

From there, your conversations continued, with more of yours and his other friends being invested in this so-called love series.

'So you're a guy. Well, I hope you're different from them.'

'Hah! I'm a good boy :)'

'Really now?'

Danielle grabs your pen right after you finish writing, continuing your message with her writing.

'Really now? Do you have a girlfriend?'

'Nope. I don't think anyone would want to date me. What about you?'

She squeals at his response, lightly pushing you back and forth. "He's single, Y/N, he's single!" You scoff and ignore her antics.

'Me neither. My friend won't stop setting me up on dates.'

Leehan hasn't replied to your message since. He's afraid that this might be his last chance at love. He's been rejected by so many girls, all for the same reason.

He just wasn't good enough.

You thought the conversation ended there. It's been days since you last wrote that, and the ink is starting to fade. Danielle lost hope as well until the end of the week.

'Maybe she can set us up together?'

"Hurry up and ask for his name. I might know him!" she exclaims as you quickly write an answer.

'I'd love that. I'm Y/N.'

'Leehan :)'

masterlist

[tuliptired]

anything w egon and ta!reader 🙏🙏🙏

Southern Skies

Pairing: Egon Spengler/TA!Reader

no more fics abt kids for 10 years cuz I'm scared yall can tell when I'm ovulating

Better formatting on Ao3!!

The newspaper was spread out over the table, frankly ignored as all four men were scrambling to get breakfast in themselves before they headed out to a call scheduled painfully early. Egon paused, hoping to get a sip of coffee without it spilling over onto his underclothes, when he spotted it- an editorial that had consulted you for a professional opinion. Mug barely to his lips as he skimmed it, Ray appeared in front of him, ready to go.

“Something interesting?” he inquired, attempting to read upside down. Ray opened his suit a tad in hopes to get some air. “Jeez, it’s hot today.”

“It’s that time.” Egon’s own words making him start to wonder something, forgetting about the mug, guessing that it’d just have to go cold if they wanted to get there in a timely manner. “Do you recognize the name?” 

Ray got a proper look, squinting and fishing for an answer in his head, shaking it twice. “Not really. You know my memories’ shot,” he patted Egon on the shoulder, all the men filing out and down the steps.

Ray’s memory must’ve been crushed, ran over, and spat upon- Egon could remember like it was yesterday. He wasn’t complaining, really, content with the recollection being something he could keep just for himself as he broke into a small and selfish smile behind his friends’ backs.

Christine brought eyes to the clouds in exasperation “You don’t know how awkward it is to see a clone of your boyfriend everywhere,” she complained as you headed back to your dormitory. 

“Side-effects of dating a twin.” You let out a small laugh at her long-distance plight with your books stacked in your arms. It was nice and bright out, the perfect afternoon for a good, long book, or an equally as lengthy nap. “Are you at least, like, friends?”

She sighed, pushing open the complex’s doors. “A bit. We’re gonna have to be, anyway.”

“It’s not all bad. No need for those pictures he sends-”

“I’m not listening !” Christine whined, squeezing her eyes shut and pushing manicured nails into her ears while you snickered devilishly. “I can’t believe you saw those.”

You put the key to your space into the door. “Relax, I’m not reading your mail. Just stop leaving nasty letters on the coffee table.” Christine groaned in embarrassment, sinking into the armchair you got in a yard sale all the way back in winter.

“Speaking of,” she toyed with a fraying edge of the lime green fabric, “He called this morning. He’s still coming- just thought we should bring a few friends.”

You made a skeptic noise as you started on lunch for you and your roommate. “Ouf. During your big reunion trip that you can’t stop talking about?” you asked over your shoulder, washing some fruit.

“That’s the one.” Christine sat up, accidently pulling some of the thread with her. “I suggested it. I just thought he deserved to see them, after being away so long.” You traded your skepticism for understanding, placing grapes in a strainer. “What I’m trying to say…”

“I would love to take a road trip with strangers while you make out in the front seat. It’d be an honor, actually.” 

 Christine snuck a few grapes and popped them in her mouth. “You’re not as distant as you think. It can’t be that bad- I’ll be there!” she punctuated herself by stealing another handful. “What happened to our summer plans?”

“If I’m only being half sarcastic,” you ended up giving her the entire colander, “wouldn’t I be intruding?” She sat on the counter, legs of her jeans swinging back and forth.

“Not at all. I’d like you to meet him before the wedding,” Christine teased you. When you weren’t entirely receptive, she poked you in the side. “If you end up with the brother, our kids’ll pretty much be siblings.”

“Not how genetics works. We’d have to be twins, too.”

“We practically are.”

“Oh, of course.” you joked as she turned you both towards the mirror on the wall. You watched her hopeful face in the mirror. Why was she always the one encouraging you to try new things, anyway? These next few months won’t last forever, admittedly, and soon you’ll be put into the real world where you can’t just drop everything for a trip out with other young people. Plus, you needed to know if her boyfriend was as cute as she said. “When do we leave?” you finally caved.

Christine jumped up, full of excitement as she dragged you to the closet. “Oh, I have to help you pack!”

“Why would I wanna do that?” Egon said into the phone, slipping into casual speech with his brother on the other end when Peter and Ray walked in, back from their lunch. “I don’t like being in a car with you on a regular day.”

“Because I’m coming home and you wanna see me,” Elon answered, unaffected by his twin. Egon sighed into the receiver at his happy tone. Out of all the things he’s had nightmares about, being stuck in a hot car with his brother and his girlfriend was the most hellish. 

“Do they know you’re coming?” 

“The last time I surprised Mom she told everyone I died. I attended my own funeral. Hey, you could bring Pete and Ray along. It’s a whole thing- Chris offered.”

“What about us?” Peter said over Egon’s shoulders, making him flinch away from his friend.

“Wanna take a trip to the shore?” Elon raised his voice so Peter could hear him, Egon flinching in the opposite direction as his ears were assaulted on either side.

Ray dropped what he was doing, now intrigued. “A road trip?” he smiled. “We’re going!”

Egon handed his roommates the phone, since they were so interested in a little excursion with his brother. What was it about the concept that sounded so fun to those three? He could drive anywhere at any time without it having to be a “thing”.

“Oh man,” Ray covered the receiver, “apparently there’s a campsite with the clearest sky for stargazing,” he beamed.

“Get pictures for me,” Egon said plainly, turning his chair back to his desk. Peter didn’t like that, apparently, spinning his friend back around with his hands on his hips.

“You’re not staying here to rot while we’re off kissing girls and looking at space.”

He ignored the pseudo-vulgarity. “I’ll manage. Besides, I have work to get ready for.” Not entirely untrue, he did have an internship coming up- they all did, just not until much later in the season. Ray frowned, seemingly catching the man in his half-lie.

“That’s so far away, Spengs. If you do this, we’ll never ask for anything ever again.” Ray reasoned, grinning hopefully. Egon sat back in thought, under a spotlight shined on him by his two friends. His legs would get tired. He probably couldn’t wear a sweater in the heat. He’d have to sleep in a dingy motel at some point. But- he’d get a rare chance to actually see the night sky without light pollution. If it rained, he’d get a moment for fungus hunting. And maybe he did miss his brother. Maybe.

“When do we leave?”

You barely had time to catch the bag your friend nearly dropped before she was sprinting towards a parked light blue car by the curb with its trunk popped open. As you got closer to the little congregation, your mouth fell open as you got a real look at the man she was clinging to.

Holy shit . This was gonna be so much more fun than you thought.

“Lonnie!” She hugged him tightly, peppering lipstick covered kisses all over his face. The face you’d come to know quite well, actually. 

“Hey, Chris,” he smiled dopily. It was jarring, seeing that face smile so earnestly. They were the exact same person, down to the length and style of their hair, height- if you were crazy enough, you’d ask if they wore the same frames. And one of them was smiling? You had assumed that everyone in the Spengler family was a sea anemone. He, Elon, held onto her waist, before catching sight of you standing on the sidewalk. “Hi,” he grinned warmly, “have you met everyone?”

You couldn’t answer before he took the reins, introducing the unfamiliar men who you had only just noticed. Elon exuded being a natural conversationalist. How ironic? “That’s Peter. Psychology.”

You wondered why he was so familiar until it finally clicked. “I know you. There’s a girl in psych who said you slept over and stole her silk robe.”

“I can’t help it if I look better in it.”

Elon stifled a laugh- that girl was good friends with Christine. “Ray’s in engineering,” he managed to get out.

“I like your jacket,” you complimented, amused at the fashion choice in such unrelenting heat.  

“Thanks,” Ray cuffed his sleeves happily, “I like your lack of a jacket.”

You laughed at that, adjusting the bag on your back getting heavier and heavier by the second. “It’s 80 degrees!”

“Car ACs are no joke.”

Elon tried peeking around the back of the car. “I’m sure you’ve met my brother. He’s just a ray of sunshine.” 

“Sure.” You smiled inwardly, watching Egon arrange luggage like there was a science to it- which, there probably was. You headed back there, slinging a backpack off your shoulder. “Isn’t this fun?” you spoke lowly. He looked miserable, but in a humorous way. At least, humorous for you.

He didn’t answer, placing it in the trunk silently. You placed Christine’s on the roomy felt flooring next to a bit of camping gear before you spoke again, unbothered by his petulance. “I didn’t know you had a twin.”

Egon moved her bag, the spot you chose apparently not optimal enough for him. “I’d consider him more of a parasite.” That made you laugh as he shut the hatch, but didn’t lock it, the latching mechanism seemingly unfamiliar to him. You reached down, doing it for him before leaving him behind to join the rest of your new friends.

“At least he’s a cute parasite.”

Elon held the door open for his girlfriend. “You wanna sit upfront?” Elon asked before she shook her head, climbing into the window seat in the back.

Christine pulled her seatbelt across her chest. “I’ll get sick. Y/N, sit back here with me.” she patted the spot next to her. Elon nodded, getting into the driver’s seat while you slid in beside your friend, cherishing the space you probably won’t get again for the next couple of hours.

“Ray? Will you be my co-captain?” Elon starts the ignition, cranking his window down a crack. Ray got in the passenger’s seat enthusiastically, almost hitting his head on the roof.

“Do I!” he was virtually buzzing as he took in all the bells and whistles in front of him. You weren’t exactly a car person, but you could say this one was objectively pretty hip- even the leather felt nice underneath you. Peter and Egon filed in next, Elon pulling off from the sidewalk as Ray couldn’t contain himself, starting again.

He ran a careful finger across the dash. “Where’d you get this from, anyway?”

“I cashed in a couple favors, traded in the beetle,” Elon paused at a crosswalk.

Peter hummed. “Didn’t know they drove like this in yodieland.”

Elon put a finger up in defense. “I got this ‘cause of my exceptional business skills.”

“Just say you’re a bad dealer.”

Eventually, your little group made it out onto the highway, surrounded by high heels and even higher trees. You had the little book you had snuck in cracked open, but there really was no need. The car was full of excellent talkers, dissolving any previous fears about if it would ever get too quiet or awkward. Excellent talkers, excluding Egon. A silent part of yourself cursed Christine for picking the window, placing you in between herself and the psychologist, away from the victim of your tortures. But, your read and your position were forgotten about, book spread open and face down on your lap as Elon shared a riveting story about roller skating.

“Now that you mention skating,” Peter turned to you and Christine, her legs thrown over your own, “you’d never believe me if I told you how good Egon is.”

You sat up, somehow even more interested. “No way.” you flashed the man over Peter’s shoulder a wicked smile as he offishly avoided your gaze.

Peter nodded. If there was trickery in his eyes, you’d have missed it. “Yes way. Absolute god, too.” Elon and Ray made a few noises of agreement up front. 

“I’ll have to see it sometime,” you say as innocently as possible, enjoying the sight of Egon’s cheeks turning pink under the attention. “No need to be embarrassed- I think it’s cool.” you sounded genuine to everyone who wasn’t either of you, leaning forward to catch his eye.

It twitched as he searched you, just like it did in your lecture hall. Who said a classroom could only have four walls? 

“Not embarrassed for me,” he kept eye-contact, “embarrassed for you when you fall.”

There was a chorus of ooo-ing as you slumped back in your seat- not embarrassed yourself, but satisfied with his ability to get you back, even when it wasn’t over a work of fiction. “Very funny,” you started, needing an iron will to refer to him with his first name as to not make things look weird, “Egon.”

At some point, Christine had her face pressed to the glass while you were stuck in midday traffic- bumper to bumper. “Check out the moose!” she gasped, shaking your shoulder.

“Moose don’t live down here,” Elon spared a look while the car inched forward. You put your play down, squinting outside with her.

“Those are two bucks.”

“And they’re-” 

The car suddenly gained speed as traffic lessened, giving the two not-moose their privacy.

At some point, as the sun was getting ready to set, the car found itself on another long stretch of highway, no other vehicle in sight as you made your way around winding roads lined with yellow-green. Elon must’ve noticed something, or someone, with their thumb out when he decided to slow down, easing on the brakes as he pulled onto the shoulder.

The hitchhiker spoke into his half closed driver side window, “Hey, man. I just need a ride to somewhere with a bus stop.” Elon nodded understandably, saying something about checking the tires before you’d go.

“Try to make a decision before I get back,” Elon spoke softly as to not be overheard by your prospective guest. 

Egon definitely would’ve rather kept going, but Ray was the first to speak. “Probably won’t see anyone again for miles,” he presumed, turning in the passenger’s seat. 

“He can’t have any ill will. Hard to kill all six of us.” you offered, not to Egon’s surprise. He watched as you turned to your friend, tapping her boot against the floor. “Christine? What d’you think?”

She kept her eyes straight ahead, arms crossed. “Whatever gets us to the rest stop the fastest.”

“Don’t worry. Just don’t think about the beach. Or the river down there. Or drinking wate-”

“Be quiet , Peter!” she fussed. He apologized when she shifted around where she was sitting, checking how much progress her boyfriend had made on whatever he was doing.

Ray unbuckled his seatbelt. “He should sit up front,” he started, before Peter put a hand out.

“And where will you go?”

He gave his friend a bemused look, cocking an eyebrow. “I’ll get back there with you guys,” he said as if he was doubting his answer.

“With that butt? There’s no space.” Egon could tell you were holding in your own amusement before your own friend spoke up, foot tapping evolving into knee bouncing.

Christine squeezed your shoulder like it was a stressball. “I’d let you sit on me, but I think I’d piss my pants if you did.”

“Glad I’m being thought of,” you kept your eyes ahead as she once did to avoid being the next puzzle piece for this little dilemma. When you heard Elon approach the car again, with no verdict reached, you sighed heavily, unbuckling yourself and scooting forward. “You don’t mind?” his wide eyes caught sight of your hand on the frame of the door. He’d say no, make you sit on the roof; that’d keep you from bothering him. So why’d he say yes?

He thought he was done with this. The things you’d do, the things you’d say- he thought all of that was done, at least until school started again and he was locked into the same routine. But now, you were on him, and it wasn’t explicit but it felt that way and he couldn’t miss the look his twin gave him before he finally decided to drive and the car was moving . He got insanely self aware insanely quickly, cursing whoever it was that convinced him to wear a dingier pair of pants.

Elon couldn’t have been more careless a driver, bumping into potholes and sticks and whatever other debris littered the road ahead as he approached a town. He only had a second to burn a stare into the rearview mirror, before his brother stopped a little too hard, sending you sliding down the length of his bent thighs and into his torso.

Egon was absolutely burning up, hands not knowing where to stay as he unconsciously encompassed the middle of your back with both of his palms, sitting up uncomfortably. “Sorry” was all she could mutter as his heart clamored to the front of his chest.

Except, you looked back at him. Smiling . “What’re you sorry for?” you asked sweetly, quiet enough so only he could hear. This was his affliction acting up again, head swimming without coherent thought. He knew that this was nothing but your poison, giving him a perfectly reasonable reaction to the toxin. Like Claudius and Hamlet. God, he was thinking like you.

So Egon didn’t say anything, planting two hands on your waist like he’d seen his brother do to Christine. He could be poisonous, too.

The car sputtered to a stop at a larger gas station outside a little town, forever tainted by the sight of Christine running inside before she could have an accident. Peter offered to fill up the tank as the hitchhiker made his way to the bus shelter, and everyone emptying out the car left only you and Egon. 

“Thanks,” you grinned, pinching the apple of his blank face before you climbed off, following them all. He knew he’d rather stay alone in the car, but Peter had yet to bring the last 8 minutes up, and he was most likely close to breaking.

Egon gave Ray a half-hearted thanks as the interior gave him much needed relief from the sun, even if it was in the form of a handful of desktop fans. He wandered off from you and Ray as you stocked up on campfire-food, his eyes drawn to the knick-knacks for sale that lined the walls of pure dark wood, wherever there wasn’t an ancient looking antique mounted. A charming kind of hospitality, Egon thought as he passed another shelf full of anything anyone would stock up on. 

There was a lunch counter facing a large window that gave patrons a wide view of the orange sunset. But, he wasn’t so much drawn to it as he was to the glass classes full of confections and pastry that garnished the benchtop, marked with differing prices. Egon’s stomach sang at the idea of a slice of cake. When was the last time he had a good dessert?

“Huh. Pegged you more of a vanilla-guy.” Egon jumped. You had to stop popping up everywhere. “Let me buy it for you.” you kept your eyes on the crystalware. 

“Buy an entire chocolate cake?”

You shrugged, arms full of packets of graham crackers. “Sure, if you promise to go halfsies.”

Egon couldn’t think of much as you started towards the cashier, simply following you. “Why?” was the only word that came to mind. You stilled, sighing before keeping on.

“Because I find you so agreeable. Now, get my wallet for me.” And, naturally, it had to be in your back pocket.

You held the wax-paper wrapped one-tier in awe, both of you fairly hypnotized at opaque swirls of brown icing pressed against foggy parchment. You handed it off, telling him to hide it while you used the restroom. Egon hardly had a moment to take anything else in before you scuttled out the family bathroom, door shut harshly with your back.

“What?” He noted the quick rise and fall of your chest as you took a few steps away.

“They really missed each other.”

You all met Peter with bags full of marshmallow and chocolate when the stranger’s greyhound pulled up, coughing out exhaust. Elon quickly ducked into the glove compartment, springing out with a small baggie that his brother missed when he bounded over to the man. From this distance, the backpacker seemed elated as Elon returned, looking pleased with himself.

“What was that?” Ray placed the last paper sack into the trunk, away from the windows. 

“Expanding my business to the east coast,” he answered confidently. His eyes went round at the sight of a police trooper against the tangerine horizon, ushering everyone back inside so they could get back on their way.

It was past dark when they pulled into the parking lot of a state campsite, virtually all for themselves. Egon felt out of place when he gandered at his reflection in the mirror of the visitor’s bathroom, t-shirt and Peter’s lounge pants replacing his normal pajamas. He was starting to miss his cap and gown- it certainly would’ve protected against prospective ticks better than the short man’s bottoms leaving his ankles bare.

Elon drove out to the lake, where Ray was put in charge of starting a fire and assembling smores. At some point during the little mass, you had stopped him passing one to Egon insisting that you see the inside. You crinkle your nose, before grabbing the bag of marshmallows and handing him one on a stick. 

“How do you eat yours?” Your tone was professorial, as if you weren’t trying to interrogate him on how he toasted a mini cube of gelatin and sugar. Egon plucked it from you, holding it over the flame for all of three seconds. You made a face, taking it back. “There’s a right way to do it wrong.”

He watched as you let it burn completely charcoal black. Before he could refuse, you put a hand up, deep in concentration. Your fingers pinched the burnt outside, meticulously sliding it off to reveal a gooey, white center which you haphazardly rolled onto your palm after sampling the caramelized shell. “Try,” you held it out to him. Egon made a face in turn, silently refusing. He cowered, attempting to nix you when you climbed over your stump and onto his, eventually forcing the treat into his mouth. Reluctantly, he chewed, and found it wasn’t all that bad- if not a bit hot. He caught his brother’s eye as you sat back, licking the residue off your fingers, and the warmth and smoke of the fire caught up with him as he frowned. This was not enjoyable. This was the poisoned goblet

When the fire was out, they could really enjoy the night sky above them. It was an inky oil spill, dappled with the light of soft stars in an uncorrupted plane, vast and never ending as it rolled on in every possible direction. “It’s beautiful,” Christine marveled, curled up into her boyfriend while they sat on the grass.

Egon kept his eyes upward to avoid the sight of Elon’s fingers dancing along the hem of her pajamas. He muttered something about a better place to see it all, and they were off somewhere in the sloping hillside. Your knees were tucked into your chest when Ray leaned over, smiling.

“Have you ever seen stars like this?” You broke out into your own smile, shaking your head.

“Never,” you clenched and unclenched your hands, appealing smaller. Egon could feel that pull in between his eyes, that involuntary darkness in his face. But it wasn’t directed at you. It was directed at his friend. Where was this coming from?

Peter stood then, shaking refuse from himself. “C’mon, Ray. I’ll grab the camera and we can go up there for some good pictures.”

Ray stayed sitting with his legs crossed. “Oh, it’s okay. You can see it great down here.” 

“Oh, you’re so much better with the camera than me,” Peter persisted.

“I wouldn’t say that-” Ray started to wave his friend off, before he was hoisted to his feet and led off into the darkness somewhere. That left only you and him.

You rose when they disappeared over the trees, unlocking the trunk and propping it open as far as it could go. After clearing the way from stray bags and luggage, you procured a blanket that hung over the backseat, draping in across the bed and settling in. Egon looked on stiffly, before you touched the space next to yourself. “Because you don’t like the grass,” you said simply.

He sat, legs dangling over the edge of the car ungracefully. You didn’t seem to mind. “Isn’t it perfect?” you venerated heavenward. Egon took in the celestial body, marbling in a color he had only seen on your sweaters. Other hues swirled and mixed with each other, creating a depth that he was sure would match your corneas. Airglow flowed out from within Andromeda, streaks of energy peeking and hiding within a dark backdrop that mirrored the flow of your hair. The stars speckled everything in sight, being everything and nothing at the same time, content with vacuity and shining in abundance. He nodded, transfixed.

“I never realized that stars weren’t just…dots. Now they’re in front of me, and they’re things .” you expressed, attempting to trace them into vaster shapes. “It’s a shame the moon isn’t out.”

Egon did the same, scanning for a constellation. “Burning groups of hydrogen turning into helium, letting out electromagnetic radiation.”

You twinkled. “Show-off.” You leaned back on your hands, before sitting back up, digging around and emerging with the cake from earlier. “You hid it back here?” you judged him playfully, stealing two forks from the glove compartment.

“One for you,” you pressed a fork down the middle of the, surprisingly undamaged, dessert, “and one for me.” Egon was wary as you took a piece from his half, bringing it to his lips. His pupils crossed as you held it between his eyes, and he held back as if it was venom. He took the fork from you instead, whatever fluttery feeling that was happening in his abdomen flying away. 

You took your own bite, and nearly melted. “What’s in this?” you said around a mouthful of cake. Egon savored some of the pleasant, treacly chocolate flavor.

“Cherries,” Egon deduced, the both of you going back for more. At some point, you had clutched his arm, eyes wide and glowing.

“A shooting star!” you pointed, the streak of light soaring through space for a mere few more seconds before it faded as quick as it appeared. “Did you make a wish?”

He sat unaffectedly, arm tingling where you had touched him. “An archaic superstition.”

You raised a brow, sitting back again. “You believe in ghosts and possession, but not wishing on stars?”

Egon didn’t have an answer, and a silence fell when you brought yourself back to the cosmos. “If I had the time, I’d look more into astronomy.” He didn’t know what forced that out, perhaps it was the vulnerability of megacosm enveloping him.

“If you had time?”

“Astrology, if I had an eternity.” Egon paused, when you let out a noise of acknowledgment. “Its connections with the paranormal are worth researching, however frivolous.” In the corner of his vision, you were sitting and staring. Eyelids low, gaze burning and expression unguarded. Poison.

“You’re not just a robotic physicist.”

He was lost for words. “To who?”

“To me, at least.” Egon’s eyes studied every bit of your face, like a robotic physicist. Eyes with a depth that matched the hues of the night sky. Hair flowing like the airglow of space. There was a beating in his ears, drowning out sounds of rustling grasses and a rippling lake in the wind. If the universe had a tangible sound, it’d be this. And it sounded like your breathing. It all created a new layer of confusion for him. This reverie was voluntary. So why could he see ether within you? The medley of matter and the atemporal shine of stars?

An indecent noise pulled him from his rumination, though it did nothing to raise his temperature even higher than it already was. “They must’ve really missed each other,” you remarked, climbing over the backseat to grab your toiletries. Egon frowned, watching your figure retreat in the direction of the visitor’s bathroom. He only followed in case you’d get lost. But his insides still felt stark.

Egon woke when your head hit the trunk door, and you winced in pain. He sat up, not quite remembering electing to sleep in the commodious back seat, but recognizing that he was no longer in the middle of a park. He clutched the blanket pooled around his middle closer to himself, feeling like an indecent woman as you got the door open. This was a parking lot. To a diner.

“Well, don’t you two look nice.”

“You left us,” you stood at your friend’s table, not nearly as chastened at being in the middle of a busy restaurant in your sleep clothes as Egon was.

Christine smiled apologetically, putting her mug down, “Sorry, you just looked so peaceful.”

You both returned to the table after freshening up in the bathroom equally as eager to eat the breakfast that was ordered in your absence. Before having anything of your own, you split off a piece of the pie Christine saved and wordlessly slid it over to Egon. He ate it just as wordlessly.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Ray started from across the table, “The book you were reading earlier- it was Liliom, right? Are you a fan of Rodgers and Hammerstein?”

You brightened. Egon didn’t much enjoy the taste of pie anymore. “Oh, yeah! I love Carousel,” you clenched and unclenched your hands again.

“That’s great! My graduating class did Carousel!” Ray leaned forward. You parroted him.

“In highschool?” You asked, awestruck. “I’m jealous.”

“What’s Carousel?” Peter wondered indolently, buttering a piece of toast.

“It’s this opera-musical about a mill worker-”

“Who falls in love with a carnival barker-”

“But he dies trying to provide for her! And he has to redeem himself for their future daughter.” you say simultaneously, breaking out into a fit of laughter. Egon felt  ill.

“You were going to see Midsummer Night's Dream, right?” The question slipped out without much thought from him, though without any resistance or regret.

He added sugar to his coffee while you wiped your eye. “Yeah, there’s a revival in this theater with the best costume design.” 

“I’m surprised you enjoy it so much. I mean, it is a parody of its audience.”

You narrowed your eyes in the same owlish way you did at the chalkboard. “A parody of the audience?”

“Lysander, Hermia, Helena, Demetrius?” he offered. “Do they not mock the audience’s romantics?”

“They’re young and in love . They’re more of an ode to the audience, if anything- look at Hermia.”

Egon clicked his tongue, watching on as your passion sparked. “Her argument in the woods speaks otherwise. It mimics the efforts of the showgoers.”

“It mimics their situation!” There was the flame. He smiled to himself. This was familiar. This wasn’t confusing.

The back and forth continued, both developing a thesis: you asserted that love was arbitrary and that’s what makes it special, and he argued that love was arbitrary and that’s what makes it fleeting. You were brought to a standstill when Elon charmed a local motel owner into letting everyone use the showers- only being let in after vowing that no one in your party was a “hippie-lunatic-drug-dealer.”

What would’ve been an afternoon to get to the beach turned into an evening, when unexpected downpour managed to back up the highways. It didn’t seem to bother Elon or Ray, as they found an indoor flea market to explore while they waited for the storm to pass. It wasn’t all bad- there were endless tchotchkes to look at and Christine had managed to haggle for some unexpectedly good donuts.

The car eventually pulled into the beach town at night, joining dozens of others in the parking lot of an ocean themed motel. It was close enough to the boardwalk that the neon signs reflected off the windows, shining in Egon’s blinking eyes. Ray looked on eagerly as you popped the trunk.

“You saw the size of that coaster, right?” he asked Peter.

“Sure did.”

“We’re going on it, right?”

“Sure are.”

“You guys coming?” He asked you and Egon, making sure he still had his wallet.

You looked around, noticing that your friend and her boyfriend disappeared, probably at the front desk. Then you noticed all the stuff left to bring in. “Don’t wait up,” you breathed out, letting the men race each other to the attractions.

Egon started to help you pull bags out, before you gasped, looking up at something over your shoulder and stopping him. “What?” he followed your gaze to the yellow-lit windows of the kitsch inn.

“They’re catching up on lost time,” you dismissed him, “let’s just-” you put everything down, shutting the door. There was a beat of quiet filled with the sounds of fun from the oceanside, before you turned to him, grinning at the absurdity of the situation. “We’re stuck out here.” 

You lead him towards the boardwalk, hands in your pockets. “I don’t suppose you’re a fan of rides,” you assumed.

“I’m not. You can go ahead. I’ll just,” he pushed up his glasses, “wait.”

“No way.” Egon was confused as you threw a few glances around, before stealing over to the edge of the wooden boulevard. “Come on,” you clutched a woven rope.

There wasn’t much for him to do but follow, cringing at the feeling of sand under his shoes. You led him rather quickly, only stopping to get a better sense of direction. “Don’t you need a license to be on the beach?” Egon put out.

You halted at the bottom of a formation of large rocks. “It’s the beach,” you made your way up them like a staircase, “I shouldn’t need one.”

Egon sighed, prudently doing as you did when you waited for him at the top. They weren’t that high, just slippery from the tide as they formed what was natural and short pier. “This isn’t safe,” he warned, anxiously watching as you teetered to the end. “There are rules against this.”

“Just look,” you pointed upwards once he cagily caught up to you. The moon was finally visible, white beams bathing everything in a dim, pale light. It seemed so close from here. “Turn around,” you patted him on the shoulder. 

Egon hesitantly agreed, only turning around when he felt your clothes hit his back and heard your footsteps running down the makeshift wharf. There was a hearty splash when he raced to the ledge, pupils dilated when you didn’t come back up. He chucked off his shirt, diving in after you.

Your head popped out above the foaming surface of the ocean, laughing madly as you wiped the water from his face. “I remembered I can’t swim,” you gasped, gleefully holding onto Egon’s shoulders in an attempt to stay afloat. He blinked away salt from his eyes when there was the sound of a whistle from down the beach, making him hold you closer to himself.

Egon regarded the way moonlight bounced off your smiling face, seawater lapping around where you held him. Poisonous.

[trans-androgyne]

Sorry if this is an irritating ask or anything, but could you please explain to me what people find wrong about the term transandrophobia? As far as I’m aware it’s literally just a word to describe trans men’s oppression. I’m not against the idea that it might have something wrong with it (as a transmasc person), but through all this fighting I’ve never once seen someone clearly explain what the problem is.

I’ve seen people claim that transmascs keep throwing transfems under the bus, but the only thing I’ve ever seen is actually the OPPOSITE way around, and only when I go searching for it (but that might just be because I make an effort to keep my dash free of that kind of thing) again I’m not saying it doesn��t happen, I just… don’t quite understand all this.

Sorry abt this rambly ask, I’m just tired and frustrated and I HATE that we’ve been pitted against each other

I will do by best to genuinely present and respond to the main arguments I have heard made against using the term. Apologies in advance for the length.

The most common in my experience is that “androphobia/misandry doesn’t exist,” or “men aren’t oppressed for being men,” based on the terms transandrophobia and its origin, transmisandry. It feels like a non-sequitur to me, completely bypassing the actual meaning of the term. Some people do include androphobia or misandry in their definition of the term, but many more don’t and just use it to describe the intersection of transphobia and misogyny in the lives of transmascs or even just “transphobia against transmascs.” I personally do believe androphobia exists in a literal sense—the fear of men that has serious consequences—but not in the way they mean it. They are attempting to paint us as MRAs, but nobody who gets any eyes on them using the term has ever argued that women oppress men as a class. MRAs are antifeminist, and the transandrophobia conversation is very much a feminist one.

The simplest is just that transmascs just “don’t need a word” to talk about their oppression. Our experiences are called “just transphobia” or “just misogyny” based on whatever they think applies most in the moment. Our theorizing is painted as useless infighting or just being jealous that trans women have a word to describe their oppression. I vehemently disagree with this one, I think everyone deserves language to describe their experiences. I think it’s impossible to ignore the way that both transphobia and misogyny interact to affect us in a new way (the very definition of intersectionality), and that we deserve to recognize and describe that intersection. Even the coiner of the word “transmisogyny” appears to agree with us on this.

Other people will focus on the term’s perceived origins. They frequently call the person who changed the term “transmisandry” to “transandrophobia” a “lesbophobic transmisogynist” and rape fetishist. From everything I’ve been able to put together on the matter, it seems to be that they’re referring to him having engaged in someone else’s detrans kinks as a sex worker on a private blog. I’ve heard from others he may have harassed people, absolutely cannot verify that. To me, it feels like another case of accusing trans people with kinks others find unsavory of being a sexual predator/sex pest, which people generally recognize as transphobic. In any case, even if every single part of their outrage was true, I do not think the behavior of a person who didn’t even come up with the ideas means that transandrophobia theory is inherently transmisogynistic.

In regard to “throwing trans women under the bus,” I think a lot of those ideas come from oppositional sexism. It’s assumed that what we’re saying is true of men must be the opposite for women. Trans women, including the woman who coined “transmisogyny,” have been using trans men’s perceived “opposite” experiences to prove their points for many years. They try to make a claim for transmisogyny by saying trans men don’t experience similar issues (violence, sexualization, demonization, safety issues, misogyny, trouble passing). But the reality is, trans men do experience those issues — some to a lesser extent, some in a different form, some just less visibly due to our chronic erasure — and have other issues of their own that trans women don’t face (like abortion rights issues). An attack on the idea that trans men have it easier is seen as an attack on transmisogyny as a concept. But it isn’t!! Transmisogyny is so blatant and oppressive of a system that it doesn’t need to compare itself to transandrophobia/trans men’s issues to have ground to stand on. Trans people are all harmed by transphobia in different, complex ways and none of us have gendered privilege.

Very few people engage with the actual meat of transandrophobia theory. We have really bad optics, I’ll give them that. It’s hard to like a word with “androphobia” in it, talking about men’s issues puts people on edge due to MRAs, and there are TERFs actively trying to recruit us. (The last part is used against us when it shouldn’t be, they try to recruit transmascs of all stripes for detransitioning and are only using us in particular because so many transfems have been awful to us because of the term. They are trying to widen that divide while most of us discussing transandrophobia are trying to close it.)

We (people who use “transandrophobia”) are often characterized as a unified movement that hates trans women (like in that post that blew up in the wake of predstrogen’s banning). We are not a movement any more than “transmisogyny” or “exorsexism” are. We don’t all believe the same things, the only thing we share in common is that we feel transmascs have a specific kind of oppression and deserve a word to describe it. And, obviously, we are doing our best not to perpetuate (trans)misogyny! The number of disclaimers I have seen people put on their post to make it exceedingly obvious to the piss on the poor website that they’re not talking about trans women is absolutely astounding. I’m sure our circles do have some transmisogyny in them, everywhere does! We do our best to combat it and I know my personal spaces have a couple transfems in them that help keep us in check. If we were being genuinely transmisogynistic, I would ask people to actually point to what they’re seeing that’s harmful instead of just dismissing all of us as evil bigots.

I think what contributes to the backlash the most is simply that trans men do not fit into current understandings of feminism well. People have gotten it into their heads that men are gender oppressors and not gender oppressed — which doesn’t shake out so well when you put being trans into the equation. I grew up hearing “ew men are gross” “I hate men” “kill all men” sentiments due to being in LGBT spaces. Some people really, really do not want to let go of the idea that men are bad and icky and dangerous and women are good and pure and safe, especially when it benefits them as non-men. Many transmascs themselves have internalized the idea that they are gender oppressors, traitors to feminism, more likely to be dangerous/predatory/misogynistic, and take up too much space because they are men/mascs. I sure felt like that before finding these conversations! I sincerely think that as we grow our transfeminism and heal from our gender essentialism a little more, this rhetoric will be left in the past.

[uter-us]

"magic gender feelings"

hey yall! gonna clarify stuff abt this post

outside of and including radfems, there are many reasons a woman might not "feel" like a woman. a huuuuge notable one is that we live in a world where women are not valued the way men are and that is reflected in media and politics and interpersonal experiences and like every second ever. of course a woman or girl might not "feel" like the caricature, stereotype, or role that is thrust upon women. she might not feel the same way the rest of the word "feels" a woman should be. that is not "called being nonbinary," its just a normal reaction to misogyny

additionally, when radfems say they do not "feel" like a woman, its often heavy on the word feel, in that we simply are women and our womanhood is not tied to an internal ("magic gender") feeling. (fyi ik the "magic" part is j lighthearted and a joke, but the content of the message applies.) that is why i do not "feel" like a woman because i cannot "feel" something that is merely my reality. (i don't feel like i have curly hair, i just have curly hair.) most actual feelings i have regarding myself and my inner identity are merely aspects of my personality.

some comments:

->

(the person in the middle is being mean for no reason so ignore that)

i get the sentiment, and i can recognize that honestly in some ways it probably is much easier, but it's also not based in any material reality. and when denying (or just not completely understanding. im not attributing malice!) the subjugation an entire class of people face due to their sex, that is not a happy sparkly good vibe

i used to go by all pronouns and while never outwardly identified as "genderfluid" i heavily identified with it. and i do know that "vibe," and i cant describe the uniquely liberating experience it is to recognize that being a woman means nothing to my "vibe" or personality or anything like that.

i know the word "woman" takes on a lot, especially roles/stereotypes, but you don't ever have to reflect that in your actions. you can vibe with what makes you happy without attributing it to not being your observed sex. like you can legitimately do and be whatever you are doing while female and that qualifies as a woman!! theres nothing more to it!! its amazing!

when i hear radfems make the claim that "everyone would be nonbinary," it's more in the sentiment that no one 100% adheres entirely to the roles/expectations of man or woman, basically that to imply some people's "gender" or whatever IS binary is strange! not even the most tradwife or "alpha male" commits entirely to the role yk? not even they are 100% in either binary. it would be impossible, and every person inches out of these gendered expressions/performances/etc at LEAST from time to time (some more often than others, but it definitely is everybody)! so its just recognizing that sure there could be some "gender spectrum" but its far more real to acknowledge everyone is somewhere in the middle of these strict binaries than just a minor group of people. (at least that's my understanding of when radfems make that statement.)

lots of radfems used to be TRAs or trans-identified individuals-- even still have dysphoria-- and that contributed to their becoming radfems!! many radfems understand the pain of dysphoria, and their experience w medicalization and/or interpersonal experiences aid in their current understanding of gender ideology and what it means to be a woman. (also see below cuz i expand more on the other part, especially the last comment.)

the first comment i find so interesting because i think thats often the point. like often someone will claim they feel like a woman/man/nonbinary-person/etc or not, and are so sure of it. and because so much of this is dependent on the way you feel, one of the things that changed my mind abt gender ideology was j considering like, "how do i know this isnt the feeling of a woman? how do i know other women aren't experiencing this?" like even trans rights activists will state that not everyone "feels" being nonbinary the same way for example. so who's to say this feeling i feel is not also the feeling of a woman? yk? because chances are, theres a lot of other women feeling discomfort with their natal sex and perception/self-perception, and so much more!

so i'd ask anyone who says what the top comment says: if a woman is someone who feels like a woman, but you can't define or break down that feeling, how are you sure all of these women are feeling the same thing?

i consider myself a relatively patient person 99% of the time, but this is so aggravating! for anyone not in the loop, an egg is a term for someone who is trans but doesn't know it yet. hypocrisy is one of my greatest frustrations, cuz a huge TRA thing is that you can't tell other people if they are a man/woman/nonbinary-person/etc, and you always have to respect their identity, but apparently that doesn't apply now!!

its very invasive to push your own idea of what and who someone is onto them-- and no one can claim this "isn't pushing" when this individual has literally written (unsolicited) about a stranger's identity based off their own projections or preconceived ideas on what a woman should feel. and i get it, its the internet, people are gonna write whatever, but i have a right to be frustrated by it too!!

okay last one! if anyone knows where that post is or who made it, but basically i saw this post on here a while ago about how sometimes TRAs resemble some Christians. and the example was comparing something similar to the above circled comment, to an interaction between an atheist and a Christian thats something like. "I'm an atheist." "Oh, so you worship Satan?" and its like the idea that someone can't even consider outside of their view that their attempt to align you w it is entirely inaccurate, yk? like atheists don't worship Satan cuz they don't believe in him! and radfems/whoever don't have "a gender" cuz they don't believe in it (in the same sense tras do)!!

im sorry if i've come off super irritable writing this! i think im j frustrated for other reasons besides this, but i hope i don't come off especially unkind because i genuinly don't hold any hatred or discontentment w this person who made that tiktok, my point to this post is to clarify some of these comments because i see this idea all the time and when the radfem pov is misconstrued its much harder for TRAs to converse w us (cuz they arent really debating our ideas, but some other group w some other ideas). (i also dont speak for all radfems so keep that in mind too.) anyway if anyone disagrees/agrees or has corrections or needs clarification or anything feel free to reply!! :)

[xxlady-lunaxx]

I love you; I don't | {SaneGiyuu}

Theme: Angst? It's not bad but there's no fluff lmfao

Note: Spoilers<33

A little UzuRen mention

Idk but when I tell people my oneshot ideas somehow they always make me get angst ideas from what they say abt it, my sister told me i should end this in angst 🫡

btw the part 2:

part 2

×××

"Tomioka."

Giyuu turned at his name, tilting his head at the Wind Hashira who stood there, his arms cross and eyes averted.

"Yes?" 

Sanemi bit his lip, as if contemplating his life choices. "I like you. Romantically."

Giyuu gave a start, his eyes widening and cheeks flushing. "What?!"

"That's what I said," Sanemi snapped, embarrassed. He looked up, glaring at Giyuu through his bangs. "Do... you want to go out??"

"I... I-" Giyuu was at loss for words and his mouth opened and closed several times.

"Take your time," Sanemi said, rolling his eyes.

Giyuu looked down. He wanted to say yes, really, he did. But. But, if he dated Sanemi, he would end up losing him. It wasn't like he could protect Sanemi—one, Sanemi was at the same level (if maybe less or more) of strength as him, and two, he would never let himself be protected, really. Which just increased the chance of losing him, paired with the fact that they were both Hashira and were always sent on missions that were considerably harder. Dating Sanemi would only make Giyuu grow fonder and closer to him, which would make the loss... a thousand times more devestating. So...

"I'm... sorry, Shinazugawa," Giyuu whispered. "I... can't."

Sanemi blinked, speechless for a second, before nodding rapidly. "It's fine. Alright. See you around." Then he turned and seemingly disappeared.

Giyuu sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He felt bad but... he'd feel worse if he lost Sanemi. Which was practically destined to happen if he had accepted, given his luck. People seemed to die away like flower petals on a picked rose when they got close to Giyuu.

×××

"I don't fucking know! It's like... I was getting mixed signals, it's just... Fuck," Sanemi groaned, banging his head on the table. "But he said no. And now there's not fucking way I can show my face to him again."

Obanai sighed. "We should go somewhere else, people are staring," he said. 

"Right..." Sanemi grumbled, standing. "Let's go to an ocean so I can drown myself."

Obanai rolled his eyes and stood, grabbing Sanemi by the wrist and pulling him down a road. "Walk, bitch. We'll go find a place we can train so you can let off some steam."

"Mm."

After Sanemi got ahold of himself, the two walked down the path side by side in silence. Obanai spoke up after a couple minutes.

"Just forget about Tomioka. It won't happen in a flash but... try? If he said no he probably means no and he's just stupid for acting like he likes you then rejecting you. For all we know he might not be into men. I don't know, just try leveling your own feelings with his and see what you can get from it. But... yeah, I would ignore Tomioka too," Obanai said, glancing at Sanemi. "It's not like you two talk much in the first place, so it'll be fine."

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Comforting. But, I guess. I'd prefer just to not think about him, to be honest."

"That too," the ravenette said, nodding. "Anyways, relationship are tedious things when you're a Hashira. Or just in the Demon Slayer Corps, period."

"Mm. And yet we have Uzui—in the Demon Slayer Corps, a Hashira—somehow married. To three people. And you can't convince me otherwise that he doesn't have his eyes set on Rengoku too," Sanemi said, scoffing.

Obanai laughed. "He's just built like that. The little fuck is more interested in romance than saving people's lives."

"Eh, wouldn't we be too if demons didn't exist?" Sanemi asked, crossing his arms. 

"Fair point. Or not. I don't know if I'd exist if demons didnt," Obanai murmured thoughtfully.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"...Right."

"...Back to Tomioka," Obanai said, quickening his pace.

"No, not back to him. There should be a clearing up ahead, wanna spar?" Sanemi offered, unsheathing his katana.

"Bet. Loser has to buy the other something?" Obanai proposed, grinning. 

"Count your money, I want ohagi," Sanemi said, racing ahead of him.

"HEY-"

×××

Years had past—yes, years—and Muzan was killed and Hashira were lost. Amongst the living Hashira were Giyuu and Sanemi. Tengen, as well, although he had retired a couple months before. And now that there was no obvious constant threat on their lives, they could live more freely, think more freely.

Paired with the knowledge of when they would die, Giyuu felt as if he could act upon whatever he wanted to. Befriend whom he liked, grow closer to those he wanted to. Somehow, throughout the years, he had loved Sanemi all the same. The feeling had wavered sometimes, but would come back in full bloom only a few weeks later. Since he no longer felt as if he would lose someone immediately because of himself, he decided to tell Sanemi of this. 

So, one day, he sent a crow to Sanemi, asking if they could meet together, maybe eat lunch. The letter was messily written as his dominant(is he right-handed?) hand was gone, but he hoped that Sanemi would be able to read it alright.

Luckily, he seemed to have been able to, as he arrived at noon at the park Giyuu had invited him to. The two had both brought their own lunches and quickly found a place to sit and eat. It was quiet for a moment as the two got their bearings together. The weather was nice, warm with a light breeze, and there was a soft scent of sakura flowers in the air.

Giyuu ate clumsily, not yet used to using his left hand as he struggled with his chopsticks.

Sanemi tilted his head towards him, an amused smirk growing on his face. "You eat messier than Rengoku."

Giyuu huffed. "I'm trying!"

"Mhm. What did you me to come here for? Just to eat?" Sanemi asked, putting down his chopsticks. 

"Ah. You know when... you said that you liked me?" Giyuu said hesitantly.

"Well fuck, going right in. Yes. I don't want to remember that," Sanemi said pointedly, sighing. 

Giyuu gave him a small, lopsided smile. "Alright. Well, I told you 'no,' not because I didn't like you, but because I didn't want to lose you. You understand, yes? I'm sorry... for that. And for not explaining. I just... panicked. I didn't want to risk losing you, then blaming myself forever," he murmured. 

Sanemi stared at him. "That's... Fuck you," he said, grumbling. 

Giyuu sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you telling me this now, though??" Sanemi asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's really out of the blue."

"Ah... About that," Giyuu said, his voice lowering. "So..."

"Hm?"

"About what I said, that I said no, not because I disliked you? Well. Well, I did like you. I... do," Giyuu mumbled. "I like you." He cast his eyes down as he waited for a response. When he didn't get any, he looked back up at Sanemi.

Sanemi looked hesitant, his eyes down at his food on his lap. 

"What's wrong?" Giyuu asked curiously.

"I just..." He trailed off, his eyes meeting Giyuu's. "I don't like you like that anymore. I stopped, after a while. I figured I had no chance, so..."

Giyuu blinked. God. Of course. He should've expected this. "Oh."

"Sorry," Sanemi murmured. 

Giyuu shook his head, forcing a smile. "No, no, like you said before, it's alright. It's fine. You don't have to apologize, it's completely my fault. Uhm... I have to go now, I just remembered I promised to meet Tanjiro later, see you around..." he said, fumbling with his food and standing, quickly rushing off.

"TOMIOKA-" Sanemi shouted, his food falling to the floor as he stood.

Giyuu didn't look back, pressing a hand to his mouth to stop a sob that threatened to spill out. He should've expected this. There was no way in hell Sanemi would've stayed in love after years, it was a miracle he'd loved him in the first place. Of course.

×××

« Word count: 1380 »

[mazzystar24]

Okay for context look at this first and the link inside it^^^

Then this was part two here of the video

And now imma rant:

STOP THE HETERONORMATIVITY AND CONSERVATIVE ASS VIEW OF HOW FAMILIES FUNCTION

Thats point one I’m not elaborating on that one again but fr what coparent role entails differs family to family so without recognising that every single point you make abt what we should see happening is moot and a title being “reserved by Eddie” is a bullshit concept so that’s just getting ignored before I rant abt it again

But for real she’s like I think people don’t understand what coparenting is- brother in Christ the hypocrisy like coparenting plain and simple is two or more people parenting a child together regardless of romantic status

So let me ask you parenting itself? Is it about financial contribution or the shit on your list? Because

1. No it goes beyond that it’s being there for your kid it’s making decisions for your kid it’s helping them it’s childcare it’s being there for the hard stuff it’s doing annoying tasks, supporting the other parents decisions and a bunch of stuff that go beyond financial contribution or whatever

And this is stuff we’ve seen buck do such as their heart to hearts, being a safe space for him, making decisions abt where he should stay while Eddie was in the hospital, preparing food for his class, the implications of that one Eddie technophobia scene where Chris asks to go to buck and Eddie does a face implying that buck COULD agree but Eddie seeks him to back him up, and a billion other things that both @lenaboskow and @warpedpuppeteer said

Like there is also the debate of instrumental vs expressive role but that’s gonnna get me carried away in a sociology lesson but lemme explain briefly- instrumental role is monetary contribution it’s discipline it’s making the decisions for the child and family whereas expressive role is physical and emotional care of the child and their socialisation and other responsibilities

It makes sense that since buck isn’t legally a parent to Chris he leans more on the expressive role but also plenty of parents who are biological or legally parents of their kids will still take an expressive role and their partner will take an instrumental role like it’s just down to personal preference really even if it’s more common now for the roles to be split equally, because originally it was from the idea that women should be in the expressive role and men in the instrumental but for obvious reasons more people split or invert the roles nowadays but again it’s down to preference

2. THIS IS A TV SHOW not everything will be explicitly stated until it comes up

Chris hasn’t had a medical thing or an emergency or allergy thing yet so why would those things have come up as buck knowing them

Butttt it’s a safe assumption to say he does because not only are they firefighters and know the risks and how important medical history is but also because in canon Eddie pestered some poor mom with a bunch of info FOR A BIRTHDAY PARTY CHRIS WAS GOING TO so you’re telling me the guy who cares for Chris constantly isn’t gonna know the necessary info???? Where is the logic

3. By that logic of oh have we seen this or have we seen that then Athena, Bobby, Michael, henren, madney and even Eddie HIMSELF are apparently not parents either cos all of them have a few things on that list that aren’t explicitly stated or even implied

4. it’s an undisputed fact that Bobby is a dad to buck or Maddie was a mom to buck or bobby a dad to may

And because I can see the “father figure vs dad” defence a mile away let’s go with most relevantly the last two points

Maddie raised buck plain and simple- she was also a teenager so did she financially contribute did she know his past doctors did she make decisions abt where he should go to school etc etc? No because raising someone goes beyond that

Bobby is May’s dad- does she call him dad regularly? No she’s done it once and it was quite late into it but she considered him a dad before that

And also he came into her life when she was older than Chris so again moot point

Does he make decisions abt her or financially contribute? No

In fact a lot of the parenting moments for him in relation to her or Harry has been similar circumstances to buck and Chris

I’m gonna shut up now but like I beg some of y’all to think before you speak because the teeny tiny boxes y’all try to shove stuff into is so weird

Like this stuff is legit canon

On a final note I wanna give a heartbreaking reminder that the decision to have buck jump back into the water eventhough it had practically no chance of survival was based on asking one of the crew (directors?) if it was their kid would they jump and they said they would without hesitation so that’s why they had buck jump in without hesitation (tehe guys I love giving you guys heartbreaking reminders🤭🤭🤭)

[justagirlwhowritesss]

Lost in Time- A Kenji Kishimoto series

Summary: Kenji Kishimoto and Leyla Demir, a time-manupilator, are accidentally transported decades into the past during a mission gone wrong. As they navigate a pre-Reestablishment world, their growing bond is challenged by the decision to alter history or return to their own time, facing the risks of changing the future.

A/n: Had this idea for a while and decided to just write it out bcs I couldn’t stop thinking abt it. But idk if I should make it into a whole series tho. Anywaysss, Hope you enioy and do leave comments if you wish to write your thoughts on this:)

"Absolutely not."

"But Warner-"

"I said 'no', Castle and I won't be risking Juliette's life for it either."

Castle let out a frustrated sigh as he shook his head, leaning forward on the table "You are clearly not hearing me! I am telling you that this is a life or death matter Warner-"

"I don't care-"

"What the hell is happening here?" Kenji came strolling into the small room with an annoyed expression on his face.

He heard Warner mutter something along the lines of "Great, another imbecile." but decided to ignore it and looked at Castle for an explanation.

The older man sighed and stood up from the small chair and crossed his arms. Warner too, got up, saying "It is none of your business."

Kenji just rolled his eyes and pointed to the exit hissing "None of my business? Excusez-moi but your whole little 'argument' can be heard on every part of the base which is why Nouria even SENT me to come check on you guys."

Warner stared indifferently at Kenji. "Well you can go back and tell her that everything is fine-"

"Nothing's fine, Warner, and you know it. The mission-"

"Is not happening." The boy snapped as he glared back at Castle before continuing "I have had enough with this pointless conversation. I am not risking my and Juliette's happiness by doing that right after we got married and while we are all repairing a broken world."

Kenji furrowed his brows as he looked between the two men. "Uhhh....what exactly are you guys talking about? What is Warner going to do?"

Castle shook his head slightly as he said, "I got intel that the Nexus Device is still out there which is why I called upon Warner to inform him on the matter."

"And try to send me on that mission of yours to get it back. Over a meaningless rumor." Warner finished for him.

Kenji just put up his hands, feeling more confused than ever. "Wait a second, what the hell is a Nex-blabla device?"

Aaron sighed out frustratedly as Castle crossed his arms "A Nexus Device. And what it is, is an important relic that was kept very well hidden within the Reestablishment. It is rumoured to have the power to manipulate time which is why, we need to retrieve it before someone else gets to it-"

"You said it yourself, Castle, it is a rumor and I won't be risking my wife's or my life to go on a mission over a something that is only a rumor, a lie."

Castle glared back at the blond boy as he said, "That doesn't mean anything, Warner. You should know better than anyone else that during a war, all possibilities must be taken into account-"

"This isn't war. Therefore, we do not have to take all possibilities, all cases into account-"

"IT IS A WAR!"

Castles angry shout seemingly shocked not only Kenji but also Warner as his eyes slightly widened before becoming cold once more.

Castle gave neither of them a chance to talk as he opened his mouth once again. "Do you know how many people are still out there, still angry with us for taking out the old supreme leaders of The Reestablishment? Do you know how many of them are out there planning coups, assasination attempts and so on, on your, Juliette's and the rest of our lives? Just because we took out the big guys doesn't mean everything's over."

Kenji saw how Warner was clearly about to retort with something cruel so quickly intercepted their argument. " Maybe- maybe you could send me? I mean Warner and Juliette are busy with being leaders and all that shit, everyone else is also busy with the whole aftershocks of a war and I....well, I wouldn't mind doing something exciting."

Aaron slowly turned his head sideways to look at him as he deadpanned, "Exciting? You call this pointless, imbecile plan to go after something that may not even exist....exciting? Of course I should have expected to hear something like this from you, Kishimoto."

Kenji shrugged his shoulders. "Well sorry mr. 'I find everything and everyone except my wife boring and have no joy in life' but some of us want to go on missions and do something EVEN those that may or may not be real."

"Your not even fit for it."

Kenji's eyes widened before he scoffed "I'm sorry? You are telling me that I am not fit for the mission?"

Warner stood fully straight, scanned Kenji from head to toe, looked back at him, letting his emotionless eyes convey the message.

Kenji balled his hands into fists. "You-"

"Actually Kenji, you are right. You may be even more suited for this mission than Warner or Juliette."

They both turned to look back at Castle who has been analyzing them both this whole time.

Warner replied with a "You have gone mad." at the same time as Kenji said "Hell yeah, I am."

Castle sat back down, still seemingly assesing Kenji. "Why not? I didn't realize it when I called you here, Warner, but your and Kenji's skills are incomparable. I think you would be easily caught. Kenji, however, has been trained like a true soldier. I believe he would be able to move, attack and do the job sharply, stealthily, and to the point. Of course his invisibility power is a whole other advantage. Look how well he did when I sent him to take Juliette out of the jail Warner built the first time around."

Kenji smirked and nudged Warner who roughly pushed him away. But then his smirk fell as confusion overtook his features. "Wait, doesn't Warner also have the ability to be invisible."

Warner rolled his eyes. "I do, but I can only do it if someone else does it near me and I take in their power. Do you really think that there is someone in The Reestablishment with powers? Really?"

"Ohhhh right, right. Totally forgot about your whole copying people-"

"It is not copying, it is just mirroring. You idiot."

"Same thing-"

Castles stern voice stopped them both from another argument as he said, "Alright that will be enough you two. Warner, you may leave. Kenji, stay."

Warner looked at him and then at Kenji before heading towards the door "Can't wait to tell Juliette about your death, Kishimoto."

Kenji just laughed and sat down on the creaky stool opposite of Castles desk. "Love you too, bro."

Castles got up and took two steps to reach the small, wooden cabinet near the window. He took out some papers before coming to sit back down, putting the papers on the table and spreading them out.

Kenji took one and began eyeing it. "This is a map."

Castle nodded as he said "Yes, a map of both the insides and the outsides of the whole area where some supporters of the old Reestablishment have taken refuge. Thanks to Sam, I was able to locate this place and get a proper detailed map on their residence. You will be breaking in here."

Kenji looked back at his friend "Quick question, how does this...whatever device look like?"

Castle sighed, "Nexus Device, Kenji. From what I know, It is supposed to look like a small, sleek and advanced piece of technology, almost like a wristwatch or a handheld gadget. You'll know it when you see it."

Kenji looked suspiciously at him "Aha....so just look for small things while also trying not to be killed or discovered, putting the whole resistance in jeopardy."

Castle smiles knowingly. "That is where you're wrong. You won't be going on this mission alone."

Kenji's rolled his eyes. "Please don't send me with anyone from here, God, especially not with Adam."

That caused his friend to chuckle before he regained his composure. "Actually, you have not met her. None of you have. You could say that she is a....good friend of mine."

Kenji's eyes widened. "Wait, what? You have friends?"

Castle gave him a stern look but that didn't stop him from slipping op and smiling slightly as he watched his close friend chuckle.

But then, as if realizing, Kenji's smile dropped as his eyes widened in horror. "Wait wait wait- A she? And none of us know her or ever met her? And you're sending her with me? Who the hell is she?"

"Leyla Demir, she is Turkish and the best trained killer I know with the most unique power. Time-manipulation."

Kenji leaned back with crossed arms, a confused expression overtaking his face. "Time-manipulation? You mean, she can stop time or some shit?"

"Language."

"Sorry, yeah, I mean- she can stop time or stuff?"

Castle smiled while slightly shaking his head. "It means, she can do anything that is time-related. Stop it, blink in to the future, the past, and even reverse it."

Kenji's eyes widened, mouth hanging wide open. "Jesus Christ. How can someone have such kind of power?"

Castle leaned back in his seat and regarded him with a knowing look. "You'll just have to see her for yourself. But do be careful, she is usually deathly quite and her answers are often short, straight to the point and cold. You won't be making much conversation with her but I believe that is what makes her so great at her job. She just comes, does what she is assigned to do, and then leaves."

Kenji scoffed, stood up and took the papers. "Oh I'll make her talk, alright. No one can ever resist the Kenji Kishimoto, after all."

He turned around, intending to head for the door before Castle stopped him. "Don't you want to know when you'll be heading out?"

He turned around with a sheepish smile. "Right, yeah. Uhh when do I need to leave?"

"This night, at eleven sharp. That is usually the time twenty-five minutes before the guards do their shift change which leaves the area unguarded for exactly three whole minutes."

Kenji nodded and turned around to leave but stopped once more when he heard Castle get up and look at him, worry slightly evident in his tone as he said, "Be careful, Kenji. I trust you and your skills very much but-"

Kenji smiled softly before saying, "I'll try my best not to die and if I do, tell Warner I will be coming back to haunt the shi- stuff out of him."

***********

It had been a while since Kenji felt this amount of excitement. Before it was all about them fighting and figuring out how to bring down The Reestablishment and then, once they did that, they had a broken world to deal with. And while it was tiring but great how they were restoring and creating a better, more brighter world, Kenji admittedly felt very useless.

These past few months it was almost always "Do this Kenji" or "Don't do this Kenji" or "Maybe you shouldn't do that" or "Just go ask Juliette" or "I don't know, Kenji, you kinda mess things up. Just stick to easy day to day work."

So what he destroyed a building that had Juliette's wedding dress inside? So what if his attempts at organizing things ended in chaos? So what if he accidentally threw away a stash of documents Haider sent? It was all accidental, okay? Atleast he was trying his best.

"Useless, you're useless." Kenji scoffed to himself as he put on his weapons, attempting to cheer himself up with the mission ahead. Finally, some action. Something to distract himself from.

He has been analyzing and constantly checking the maps for the past couple of hours, planning the area from which he would sneak in, which room the Nexus device could be in. Honestly? The place doesn't even look big at all. Well, he will see it soon for himself anyway. Kenji looked at the electronic clock,

10:58 pm

Time to leave on a little suicide mission.

With a final look in the mirror at himself, his black tactical gear, and all his weapons, visible and not-visible, Kenii left the house.

Twenty minutes later, he had managed to arrive at the location, turning off his invisibility and immediately hiding behind a large bush. Where is this Leyla? They only have four minutes left before the shift change. Whatever, if she doesn't show up, he is going in alone. He doesn't need a nanny to track along with him-

A sound came from behind him.

Kenji quickly took the small knife hidden in his boot and turned around, intending to land a shot at whoever or whatever is behind him but stopped when he saw the person.

He couldn't see her properly at all because it quite dark and she is wearing dark gear similar to his but from what he can see, atleast due to the faint light coming from the broken tall lamp beside them, if this woman is Leyla.....she is absolutely gorgeous.

An elegant yet strong build, warm, slightly tanned complexion, seemingly dark hair but what stood out the most....those otherworldly emerald eyes that could hypnotize you and look absolutely lethal as they stare back at him.

Kenji's trance came to a stop when she said with a slight hint of an accent, "I guess you're the idiot Castle told me about."

He didn't have the chance to reply as she wordlessly crouched beside him and looked through a small opening at the base.

Kenji collected himself and looked at her, asking "I-I am Kenji, this is the first time we meet."

She looked down at her watch, muttering a "One minute left."

He scoffed looking at the guards "Rude."

She still ignored him.

"Um anyways, how did you get to know Castle? I mean, we are like this close with him so I thought I would know about yo-"

She silenced him with a hiss.

"We have nearly twenty seconds before the shift change and I would very much appreciate it if you could just shut the hell up so we can get this over with and then go our separate ways."

He furrowed his brows in frustration. "What's wrong with you? I was just trying to be civil but I guess you wouldn't understand that since you are acting like a cranky old bit-"

She clearly either heard him and chose to ignore him or was too focused on the time because she quickly cut his rant off "It's time. Get up."

Kenji scoffed but got up, refocusing his attention back on the main goal. Get the device and get the hell out. It can't fall into the wrong hands. It can't.

He held his hand out for her to take, causing her to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"How do you expect to get in there? Just walk in? I can make us turn invisible, just hold my hand."

She clearly didn't want to but looked at the base and then back at him before sighing and taking ahold of his wrist instead of his hand. He found it weird but just kept his mouth shut as they both turned invisible.

Kenji felt her hold on his wrist tighten as she adjusted into the feeling. He whispered silently as they began to walk, "Are you ok-"

"Shhh, guards."

Kenji didn't need any more explanation as he saw three guards in the distance seemingly talking with one another. Seems like an awful lot of guards for a small area. That could only mean that they do have something important to protect.

They began silently heading towards an open back door when a woman dressed in a black shirt and loose pants stepped out, standing right in front of the entryway with her head bowed down, looking at a....notepad?

Shit. How the hell are they supposed to move past her and get inside? It's not like they can just walk through her. Kenji felt Leyla's body stand closer to him as they both stopped and just stared at the woman.

Please, for the love of God, can she just-

"Mrs.Pierson, we have a report."

The woman lifted her head to look back at a bulky man who came from behind her.

"I don't have the time, Michael. Tell them if they are going to try and once again just prolong the matter-"

"No, mrs.Pierson trust me, we made it very clear to them that we don't have the patience for their games no more. And by very clear I mean....we used other methods to make them understand."

The woman--mrs.Pierson, apparently--smiled and said a simple "Good" and moved past the man.

What were they talking about? It sure as hell seemed quite crucial. Kenji really felt like he needed to follow them and it seemed like Leyla was thinking the same because she just gripped his wrist tighter with her gloved hand, and made him follow her as she took the lead, entering through the door and following the two strangers.

The hallway was extremely narrow and the walls looked like they are about to crumble down any second now. Kenji barely managed to not trip over something or make noise as he followed Leyla through the tight hallway. Honestly, it seems like she doesn't even have a problem with this. Not once has Leyla made a sound, moving so quietly making Kenji think that if she weren't holding his wrist right now, he wouldn't even be sure if she is still there.

Has she done this before? Of course she has, you idiot. Has she seen worse? What could possible be worse than the war they had? He wonders what she did during that time.

Stop it. Idiot. Why the hell do you care? Why do you even wonder?

Finally, they reached a small opening with only an open door in the center. The wallpaper's here were piss yellow and almost fully ripped off the walls. God, it's not like Kenji is currently staying in a luxury plaza but...what the hell is this shithole? And who the hell are these people?

They quietly came to stand in the entryway as they both took in the room and the people inside it. The woman and the man from earlier were here as well as two more people whom Kenji didn't know about. They were holding what looked like a medium sized, black, shiny box.

He felt Leyla about to step inside the room so he pulled her back immediately, getting the point across that they can stand here and listen. Surprisingly, Leyla listened as he felt her body freeze in one place.

Kenji and Leyla pressed against the wall, their breaths shallow as they listened to the muffled conversation inside the room. The two unknown figures were standing beside a table, the black box placed in the center. The woman—Mrs. Pierson—was now engaged in a conversation with a very short and fidgety man.

"We've had issues with the security systems," Mrs. Pierson was saying, her tone clipped. "Do you have the new codes?"

The man nodded, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a small, metal key. He placed it on the table next to the box. "This is the key to the main vault. It’s the last piece we need to complete the upgrades."

Mrs. Pierson’s eyes narrowed as she examined the key. "Good. The Nexus Device must be secured before the operation begins."

Kenji’s eyes widened slightly. The mention of the Nexus Device caught his attention. So it is something important. Hah! Kenji couldn't wait to see the look on Warner's face when he tells him that he was wrong.

The second man, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up. "The vault's security is tight, but if we can get this device out, it will be worth the risk. The information we’ve received suggests it's an invaluable asset."

Mrs. Pierson nodded, a grim smile on her face. "Indeed. Make sure it's kept in a secure location until the time is right. We wouldn’t want anyone else discovering it."

Kenji felt Leyla’s grip tighten on his wrist. She was clearly assessing the situation, trying to plan their next move. He could sense her tension; she was used to dealing with high-stakes situations, and this one seemed to be no different.

As the conversation continued, Kenji’s attention shifted to the black box. It seemed to be the central focus of their discussion, and if it contained the Nexus Device, they were very close to their objective.

Leyla and Kenji slipped into the room, moving with the practiced stealth that Leyla had demonstrated earlier. Kenji's heart raced, but he kept his focus on the black box, which now lay tantalizingly close. Leyla quickly assessed the room, noting the positions of the two men and the security measures in place.

As they approached the black box, their movements were swift but not without tension. He quickly but carefully as to not touch anything and cause alert, dragged Leyla towards a corner of the room, far from the four people and the three guards currently discussing something in low tones.

"Let's go through the left side of the table, no one is standing there." He whispered so quietly, he thought maybe she hadn't even heard him. But Leyla's confirming squeeze to his wrist told him that she agreed.

Kenji crept closer to the box, his heart racing with anticipation. As he reached for it, he felt a sudden jolt in his power, a flicker of instability.

In that instant, Kenji’s invisibility wavered. He was momentarily visible—a ghostly outline against the darkness—before he could re-stabilize his power. It was enough. Mrs. Pierson’s eyes snapped to his position, her expression shifting from confusion to alarm.

“There’s someone there!” Mrs. Pierson shouted, her voice echoing through the room.

The men turned sharply, their eyes scanning the space. Kenji and Leyla’s invisibility wavered again as they scrambled to adjust their powers. Kenji’s face was now partially visible, caught in the beam of a flickering overhead light. The guards’ alarms were triggered.

“Get them!” one of the men yelled, rushing toward Kenji and Leyla.

The room erupted into chaos. Leyla moved quickly, drawing her weapons and engaging the guards with precise, fluid motions. Kenji, trying to regain full control of his invisibility, grabbed the box and fumbled with it, struggling to keep his powers stable.

Mrs. Pierson lunged for the box, trying to reclaim it from Kenji. He fought back, his movements erratic as he fought to maintain his invisibility. The struggle was fierce, and the room became a whirlwind of combat.

Leyla managed to fend off the attacking guards, her movements a blur of skill and precision. She glanced over at Kenji, who was wrestling with Mrs. Pierson and another man for control of the box.

“Kenji, let’s go!” Leyla shouted, urgency in her voice.

Gunshots were heard everywhere as Kenji managed to regain control over his body and become invisible, quickly runing and appearing behind one of the guards and snapping his neck, then moving on to the man named Michael and using one of the knives strapped to his body to stab his back, causing the man to crumble on the floor with a cry.

Leyla seemingly swiftly took care of the other two guards, her swift and fluid motions knocking out mrs.Pierson in the process. She wanted to kill her but the shouts from the outside confirmed Kenji's thoughts that there are more guards coming and they needed to get the hell out....like right now. He quickly grabbed Leyla and ran.

With the box secured, Kenji and Leyla made a break for the back door, their path now clear thanks to Leyla’s skilled combat. They dashed down the narrow hallway, the sounds of pursuit growing louder behind them.

Outside, they sprinted through the darkness, Kenji still trying to stabilize his powers. As they reached a corner of the building, Kenji glanced back to see guards pouring out, their shouts growing fainter.

Leyla skidded to a halt, pulling Kenji into a shadowed alcove. “We need to get out of here before they catch up.”

Kenji nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “I think... I think I’m losing my powers.”

"No you are not. I think its the effects of being this close to the device that are affecting our powers. It's too strong! Even I feel my own powers waning."

Leyla, her breath steadying, glanced at the device. “We need to figure out what this thing actually does. There might be a way to use it to our advantage.”

Kenji nodded, looking equally determined and exhausted. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.”

They moved to a small, dusty and broken chair in the alcove. Kenji placed the box on it, and Leyla began to carefully pry it open. Tension was high, and they both felt the urgency of their situation.

As Leyla worked on the box, Kenji’s impatience got the better of him. He reached over to help, but his movements were rushed and clumsy. “Come on, hurry up! We don’t have all night.”

Leyla shot him a sharp look. “Slow down, Kenji. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

Kenji’s frustration boiled over. “I know! But we need to get out of here before—”

He accidentally knocked the box off the table with a jolt. The device tumbled to the ground, and the lid popped open. A strange, pulsating glow emanated from within, filling the room with a blinding light.

“What did you do?” Leyla shouted as she tried to grab the device, but the light grew intense, enveloping them both.

Kenji reached for the device, but it slipped from his grasp. As he tried to stabilize it, he and Leyla were both caught in the expanding radiance. The light grew brighter and brighter until everything around them was engulfed in a blinding flash.

When the light finally faded, Kenji and Leyla found themselves in an entirely different setting. The warehouse was gone, replaced by a landscape that was completely unfamiliar. They were surrounded by a complete and vast greenery, the sun was high and shining brightly, there were cows and sheep on the grass, large trees covering the area.

“What the hell just happened?” Kenji asked, his voice tinged with panic.

Leyla was looking around, her face pale with horror.

"Where- where the hell are we?!"

"In the past....or the future, I don't even know."

Kenji came closer to Leyla, eyes wide with shock and frustration.

"What the hell did you do, Leyla? This wasn't a part of the plan!"

The moment Leyla turned around to look at him, Kenji felt the air get knocked out of his lungs. He was wrong, her hair wasn't dark at all. The sunlight casted it's soft glows over them, allowing him to see her clearly. Her hair was a very light brown, seemingly slightly curly, her eyes were even more breathtaking under the light, and that face...her soft face that currently held an ice cold expression on it as she stared daggers at him.

".....so you are the one to blame, not me! don't you dare blame me!" Kenji realized then, that she had been shouting at him for the past minute but he completely drowned her words out as his eyes admired every inch of her uncovered body, which wasn't much really, just her face. But it was more than enough because....dear God he had never seen anyone look so beautifully innocent and yet be so cold and hurtful.

"What?" Kenji said with a soft smile, his eyes never leaving her face as his mind was still in his own world. She pinched his ear with her gloved hand, causing him to finally come back to reality as he hissed an "Ow! Why the hell did you do that?!"

She crossed her arms. "Listen, Kishimoto, we need to know the date for us to even know where the hell we ended up in. Time travel, anything having to do with time in general, isn't simple at all. One wrong move and you could end up in a place where you can't even get out of."

"Kishimoto, huh? So we are absolutely formal now?"

She sighed and looked skywards. "Out of all the things I said, this is what you are stuck on? And we were never informal to begin with."

Kenji smirked. "We could be informal too, if you only say the word--"

"Hey! What the hell are you doing on my lawn?"

They both turned around to see a man, presumably in his fifties, striding towards them.

Kenji pushed Leyla behind him as a serious expression overtook his face, readying to strike at any sign of danger. Leyla just scoffed and moved past him coming to stand beside him when the man reached them. Kenji was about to say something but she intercepted quickly.

"What is todays date, old man?"

The man looked at her and threw his arms in the air. "Old man? Old man?! I am only 58! And who the hell d'you think you are, heh? Coming into my lawn, my goddamn property unnanounced-"

Kenji heard Leyla's voice turn even icier, if it was possible, as she asked- no, stated in a threatening voice, "What date is it."

The man too, clearly got the memo as he quickly stopped rambling and looked between them, his hands fidgeting.

The moment he said the date, Kenji wanted to tear his hair off. They were in the fucking past! With no way out! or...

That's right, Leyla had her time powers! she could get them out, right?....right?

Leyla seemingly also understood what timeline they were in as she quickly dragged him away without saying another word to the old man, who was still muttering something under his breath but was too scared of Leyla to shoo them away. Once they were in the other side of the lawn, behind a large farmhouse, Kenji looked at her wide eyed, "We are in the past! Are you kidding me?! Is this actually happening?! What the-"

"Will you shut the hell up, Kishimoto? Yes, we are in the past, but....this past is different."

"How different?"

Leyla's eyes drifted behind him, seemingly lost in thought. "This is thirty years before the Reestablishment took over. I have been in thousands of timelines but never this, never this one."

Kenji's eyes widened as his mouth hanged open. He whisper-shouted "What?! So, you mean to tell me that there is no Reestablishment?1 No wonder this place is so vibrant and alive. Why didn't you ever come to this timeline?"

Leyla crossed her arms, her expression becoming indifferent once more. "That is none of your business."

Kenji sighed. She wasn't an easy one, that much was clear about her. "Whatever, now can you please use your little time traveling powers to get us back to our rightful timeline?"

"No, I can't."

Kenji felt the hope drain out of him. "No? What the hell do you mean, no?! Aren't you supposed to have these time-manipulating powers or whatever-"

"I do, alright? I do. It's just that they are absolutely depleted at the moment. The Nexus Device- it seemingly affected me more than anyone else because we both have the power of time. Like calls to like, it seems. We drained each others powers. I need a couple of days to recharge even half of what that stupid device took from me."

This was madness. Absolute madness. Kenji prayed that maybe this was some sort of a nightmare that he was in, that he would wake up soon and go about his day. But, alas, it was all very much real.

Kenji leaned against the wall, his eyes wide in horror and realization.

"Holy shit."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[do-i-look-like-a-doctor]

Gojo headcanons bc ive got too much time on my hands

bro ate chalk as a kid and ive got proof

look at his kid self for a sec, he’s got a grown out buzzcut and the blue eyed stare. thats a chalk eater

you can’t convince me he’s a good swimmer

he’s lanky and tall, bro gets swept away the min he is near the ocean. he’s built to be shark food, sorry luv

the cloth he wears to cover his eyes is raggedy as hell

let me explain. he wears it constantly both in and out of battle, he wears it in any weather, and let’s be real he’s so odd that he probs sleeps in it sometimes

this leads me to believe that even tho he almost never gets hurt during a fight the blood and grime gets all up in the cloth

no amount of Tide or even acid could get rid of the STENCH that mask holds

it smells like ten cans of bounce that ass. one whiff could, quite literally, kill an old man

he’s a chronic podcast listener

tried to become one of those skater kids, failed miserably. geto never let him live it down

i think he’d make a great partner but if you listen to Hozier he will cause a scene

basically what im saying is he’s jealous of Hozier

Gojo knows that no matter how strong he is he will NEVER compare to that man’s vocals/lyrics and what they do to you

que Gojo trying to sing your fav Hozier song(s) but he can’t match the pitch which sends you into cardiac arrest

other than that he’s a pretty good singer, could probs serenade you to sleep

you know how everyone has an irrational fear? yuh his is birds

you ever see him interact with one in a normal way?

you see a bird, he sees a sack of organs with hollow bones that sore through the sky and sometimes they can talk

he pisses his pants when he sees a macaw

he’s a rich bitch and it’s a problem. not cuz he’s an ass abt it but bc he spoils the hell out of the teens

we know he would buy Megumi anything in the world but Yuuji and Nobara get the same treatment

he saw Yuuji’s orphaned ass and immediately transferred HUNDREDS to Yuuji’s bank acc

ain’t no student of his gonna be broke, that’s for sure

probs carries around pics of Megumi from when the teen was a kid

some are cute such as Megumi at the beach or having a fun at the zoo. others are of Megumi fighting for his life

i feel that when Yuuji entered the equation he also started taking pics of him during cute, fun, or important moments

very much sentimental older brother energy

whenever Gojo gets sick or injured he either becomes a massive baby or denies it until he’s dead

depends on the problem tbh. if he’s got a head cold he needs to be hospitalized but if he got his legs cut off he’d ignore it for weeks

you know how most men’s body wash or shampoo is named in, what’s considered, “masculine scents”

like redwood, campfire smoke, whiskey, fucking piss water

yuh he’s not a fan

i don’t think he’d really like those scents. in his mind, why does smelling like burnt coal or salt = masculine?

he probs just grabs whatever he likes, maybe orange scented stuff or even subtle vanilla

whatever cologne he wears tho is fucking delicious. you smell it and immediately your knees give out

i think if you gave him a huff of old spice tho he’d just disintegrate

im thinking of his general hygiene now, he has a solid routine

it’s not a million steps, probs just good quality face wash, serums, and moisturizer

that being said he suffered horrific back acne as a kid. dont ask how I know this, i will eat you alive

he looks and acts flawless but we know the truth. he sucks at card games

Yuuji’s biggest flex is he beat Gojo at go-fish 28 times in a row

he says calabunga and not a single person can stand it

that’s it for now, i’ll probs add more headcanons later

thanks for coming to my ted talk, i hope this post finds you before Sukuna does

(this is all mildly unedited, soz for mistakes)

[goblin-iz-whack]

So, Edgar being transmasc has a lot more canon backing than him being Genderfluid:

The deep voice and headband is an obvious homage to Rambo, who was one of the beacons of masculinity at the time. Makes sense that a young trans kid would try and replicate that.

Him and Alan are clearly named after Edgar Allan Poe. But our Alan is spelled differently than Poe's "Allan". Their parents cared enough to give them gimmicky names but not spell it right? Maybe Edgar had a different name and changed it to match his brother.

Anger. This guy is furious 24/7, if not furious then grumpy and rugged. This could be a clear example of exaggerating typically "Masculine" emotions because he just wants to be seen as male.

Layers. His outfits almost always include a jacket or an undershirt or both, even in the sequels. Layering is a common tip for Transmasc men to seem more masculine.

He's always trying to be in control. Another example of emulating "Masculine" features, he's always in charge and pretending he knows more than he does.

We never see his bare chest. To be clear I'm talking abt the sequels. We got loads of nudity in the sequels for no reason, but when he got stabbed and his shirt was taken off, his chest was bandaged and hidden away from the camera. This is such a reach but from a headcanon stance we could see it as him just not wanting people to see his chest, either because of top surgery scars or because he hasn't gotten the surgery.

Now, admittedly, him being Genderfluid is just me trying to make my favorite characters more like me, but I can squeeze out some backing:

Some of his outfits just seem more feminine, maybe it's just because he has longer hair and when he was younger he had a Babyface which is perceived as more feminine. But a lot of my friends say that he dresses like a butch lesbian so 👀

In one of the sequels, our protagonist calls them "Eddie" for no reason. Why would you call somebody you just met by a nickname? Could be because they were presenting as something else that day and wanted a different name to reflect that.

Him keeping his hair long despite trying to seem masculine just screams "neutral" to me, I'm also a Genderfluid person that likes their hair long, it can feel gender affirming no matter what I'm presenting as.

Idk man I love Edgar and since I'm Genderfluid I want him to be too and since most people headcanon Marko to also be Transmasc and Genderfluid this could be a sad parallel.

Now nobody asked for this but I also have a lot of canon evidence to him being Asexual, this is all In the sequels by the way:

He has an implied love Interest. Her name is Zoe, she's clearly in into him and trying to hint at it. But he...just doesn't get it. It doesn't seem like he's ignoring her, he just doesn't understand what she's hinting at.

Some lady that asked for his help, Gwen, just strips in front of him (Yeah these sequels are wild) and he gives zero fucks whatsoever. He also shows disgust for the romance/erotic novels she writes, granted he says its because she makes being a vampire look sexy, but it could be because he's a bit sex repulsed.

It's probably just me but it feels like everybody has some chemistry with him. Zoe, Gwen, several random unimportant characters that are weirdly touchy with him. And he just, does not care. If anything, he seems uncomfortable.

This is the back of the DVD for one of the sequels:

@evilrobot-bill

[vveakfish]

thinking abt this post (not adding a screenshot bc op [@mrpsychokiller] turned off reblogs and i wanna respect that) but like, idk it just got my brain moving.

i did my undergrad thesis on how sex and community in queer spaces can often go hand in hand & how kink can act as a vehicle for finding community within a subculture can in some (but not all) cases be Very sex centric.

And it was such a fucking trip to work on this project within the confines of Art School™ & realize that nearly every one of my professors wrote off the deeper meaning of my work because the images i was making were a lil kinky.

It created this really strange dichotomy within the feedback i got that semester.

My peers (namely the ones who were also queer freaks themselves) fucking Got It. we had in depth conversations about what it was that i was trying to say, and it was so great to have them around me while i worked myself to the bone on these prints.

but when i got critiques from my thesis advisor –and all the other professors in my program – it was like all they could see was the fact that i was depicting men who also happened to be sexy.

I remember about half way through the semester, when we did our like midterm review or whatever, there was very little talk about my technique, or if the images were effectively conveyed, or any of the other things my peers who were tackling less ‘risqué’ subject matter got feedback on. It was all about how the work was horny & bc of that they weren’t sure if it was ‘impactful enough’ to be thesis material.

“Okay, so u think they’re hot. Now what?”

And the thing that i found So interesting about this whole thing is that these prints weren’t even the most erotic work i’d done that year.

the last project i’d worked on the semester prior to thesis was a series of four paintings of porn stills. Dick, Balls, AND Hole all lovingly rendered in oils.

So when it came time to figure out what i wanted to do for thesis, i considered going in that same direction. But in the end, i decided the point of the project wasn’t the Raunch factor. So, i chose to pare back the sex so that my message wouldn’t get lost in it.

And Yet, there i was, standing in front of a room full of str8 ppl who couldn’t look past the suggestiveness of a twunk bound in shabari, or a big chested bear in a leather jacket, or a drag queen dancing in sexy lace up heels for long enough to even consider that maybe the work Wasn’t just about that.

The thing i realized (only at the end of the semester in trying to work through my feelings on all of this as i wrote out my thesis paper) was that outside of my peers, none of the people who had a chance to view my work and engage with it before it was complete did so in good faith. They decided that my work was intellectually worth less because it could be read as horny.

And like, ignoring the fact that i wasn’t making these images for sexual gratification, it shouldnt have MATTERED if i were !!!

These professors spent four years talking about how our work should evoke feeling in people, and that we should keep that in mind while composing our images etc. etc. etc.

but as soon as they thought the reaction the work might have been evoking was Horny™ it wasn’t deep enough.

I don’t really have a conclusion to this post, other than to say i fucking agree with the sentiment of the one i linked at the top. Fetish, kink, or sex should not detract from a work of art. And the fact that it does is a disservice not just to the artists who enjoy working on that kind of subject matter, but also the audience.

If your first response when seeing a work of art and learning that it Might have some element of sex involved in it is to deem it wrong, or shallow, or gross, you’re robbing yourself of the opportunity to engage with the work in a meaningful way.

and this is not to say “everyone should look at fetish art, idc if it icks you, get over it!!”

all i ask is that you investigate why it evokes such a strong reaction in you. Is your discomfort actually about the image itself? or is there something else going on. Sit with it for a second.

and since i wrote all this out and talked about my thesis, i might as well link the essay here. I’m still really proud of this project, and i have the prints embedded within the essay, so check it out if you have the chance!

[sneezemonster15]

A lot of adults women behave like incels but less violent and more manipulative. They usually love the cringe romance movies where the main girl is average looking and not like the other girls and manage to make the badboy soft. Generally they hate hot girls bc they are jealous (see the way Skr stans talk abt Ino and feel victorious bc they "won" against her, the hot girl). Those women are full of insecurities, thats why Skr is so relatable.

The way Skr tries to not think about the fact Sske dont wanna spend time with her is the same way some irl women ignore that their husbands are cheating, and if they cant ignore it they will attack the other women but they will NEVER leave the guy. All their self worth is based on having a bf/husband.

Then there are some lesbian/bi women who stan her as an act of feminism. She is a female character who got what she wanted so its a win apparently. Fortunatly those ppl are minority bc as a queer woman and feminist, it is very embarrassing to read those takes. I'm all for uplifting women and for them to get everything they desire but not at the expense of non sexist men. Plus, Skr dont even look so happy at the end of the day. So is it really a win for her and women?

Yeah that makes sense. But it's sad isn't it? Because even trying to have a dialogue with them isn't helpful. There's no point having it if they aren't ready to be receptive to it.

Sakura really sees no contradiction between what she says and what she does.

And yet...

Lol. Till only two days ago, she was found styling her hair in the middle of chuunin exams, all skinned knees and having suffered minor injuries, while her team mates were working. She let her hair grow in the first place because she thought Sasuke liked it. Lol.

What impression can it possibly give to the reader? Kishi had to stress on it too, with another character this time.

Why would Kishi stress so much on Sakura and her obsession with her hair, just to make her say something totally hypocritical five chapters down? Lol. Kishi is very clever about writing his characters act according to the character traits given to them. Like for example, the panel below, Kakashi acts according to his character (where he has a blindspot for Sakura's negative shades) thinks Sakura is not the type to brag when she is actually exactly the type to brag.

Lol, Sakura's whole personality is about being obsessive for Sasuke which in turn makes her violently jealous of Naruto and Ino. She beats Naruto up regularly for no apparent reason and harasses Ino, even though that girl did nothing but try to help her. And she brags, it's the only thing she does properly. Lol.

And yet, she is always bragging, showing off. From start to end.

And I am positive I am missing some panels here lol. She is always looking for external validation. She revels in it. While external validation itself is not a bad thing, since humans need some amount of external validation to measure their abilities, and Naruto does it too, but for him, it's rooted in his quest for acknowledgement and acceptance, so he could make friends and not be ostracized from community. Sakura does it because of her ego. While Naruto has his principles rooted in his belief systems, his emotions and his dream that egg him on to do better, Sakura finds her motivation in the desire to show off and impress people, mostly Sasuke.

She disrespects Ino, Tsunade, and she fights Kaguya while she says this?

Girl, why are you so embarrassing? If you wanna attack her, just do it. Why even mention her being a woman? She wasn't mocking you, she barely even noticed you. You aren't worthy enough for her to notice.

Lol. And things she says about being a woman are just so cringe lol.

No one underestimates her because she is a girl, in fact Kakashi coddles her because she is a girl. She is underestimated because despite training, she is just weak and unskilled, as compared to her cohorts. And if she is skillful, we don't see it in the same proportion measured against the way she talks about herself. Tsunade never had to sing about her being a woman and yet people are bloody scared of her strength. Temari never had to mention it, neither did Kushina. Chiyo certainly briefly talks about how women always get the short end of the stick in their male driven society, but she not only belongs to a much older generation that has seen a hell lot, she is a master puppeteer and a superior warrior in her own right, she has earned it.

It would have been fine if only Sakura had actually consistently kept her word, proven herself through actions and not just empty words. Because when she doesn't, it reduces the value of those words. I don't know if she really meant it when she said women were fickle. Who? Tsunade? Kushina? Chiyo? Temari? Nope, they didn't give any such impression.

She constantly condescends to Naruto despite him having proved himself to be skillful, strong, the one who wins team seven several battles while she stands in a corner shaking and sweating. Thing is, she realises she makes mistakes. She acknowledges Naruto's strength as well, but she doesn't do anything to change. The whole point of a realization is to work on it and correct your behaviour. She is condescending towards Naruto till the end. Konohamaru takes her down a peg when she is being disparaging towards him and Naruto when they are doing the oiroke jutsu contest. She even hits Konohamaru, and he gets pissed off. So he makes a reverse oiroke jutsu just to show her true face, and that face has a streak of blood trickling down her nose lol. But when Naruto uses it against Kaguya, she again condescends to him. Narusakus are kinda embarrassing tbh, Sakura doesn't get Naruto. She thinks she does but she doesn't. She thinks she gets Sasuke but she obviously doesn't. And yet, she makes her 'strategies' in kage arc around her knowledge of Naruto and fake confesses to him. Naruto rejects her. Lol. She goes to Sasuke and tries to kill him (with a kunai...) by tricking him, only to be attacked, twice. Even when she drugs her cohorts before going to Sasuke, they clock her real plan. Lol.

She overestimates herself, even though it's clear that if she only thought things through, she would be much more successful. She is really blind to her own shortcomings even though she tries but remains unsuccessful, which is even sadder.

She does know Sasuke doesn't wanna spend time with her, she also gets a sense that she will always be much lesser than Naruto in Sasuke's eyes, she knows but she doesn't care. Even if it means long term misery for everyone involved.

Yes, I am sure some women find her character relatable. But relatable doesn't mean everything. I relate to Sasuke and I am very wary of establishing emotional connections but I know it's not something ideal or healthy. Connection is what people thrive on. If I ever started to relate with Sakura, I would really be compelled to take a hard look at myself. Lol.

[ratboychronicles]

ok adding onto my Great Comet x CHNT au. thing. i have thoughts………….

WARNING FOR CHNT AND THE GREAT COMET SPOILERS

gonna assign everyone to characters n then give my argument why they’re similar

Sydney —> Natasha

scary similar tbh. i have good reason for this listen LISTEN!!

the main differences between Natasha and Sydney is that Natasha is more immature and childish. Natasha still holds some form of “”love”” or desire for love for/from Anatole when he leaves for PETERSBUURRRGGG!!! She doesn’t see through his deception in the way Sydney saw through Elijah’s—partly because Elijah is …….. very noticeably insane, and Anatole is just a charming shithead, but STILL!! i think Sydney would’ve noticed insincerity by the end even if Elijah wasn’t visibly insane.

NOW THEIR SIMILARITIES …… the big thing imo is that the two desperately seek love, while also being unaware of what love looks like—leaving them susceptible to people like Anatole and Elijah. I would say that Natasha feels neglected in similar ways to Sydney, even though Natasha is notably more universally adored than Sydney, for the both of them, the person who was meant to love them most in this case were neglecting them. NOW……. with how I’ve assigned Jedidiah in this AU, it gets sort of confusing, but i’m ignoring that for now so i can talk my shit <3

another thing i noticed abt the two of them is that out of their desperation to feel loved, they go against all warnings thrown at them—are fully willing to accept the self destruction that will follow their actions—simply to experience what they believe to be love and understanding.

“I’m afraid for you, Natasha—afraid you are going to your ruin!” “Then I’ll go to my ruin—yes I will, as soon as possible!”

“…Are you saying… the only reason you don’t want me around the Elephant Man… is because he might tell me your secrets?“ […] “Sydney, please […] You won’t be safe!” “What if I’m okay with that?”

the both of them feel desperate enough that they’re willing to risk their livelihoods to experience even the idea of affection, even if visibly not healthy at all.

SO Sydney and Natasha’s shared desire for love and to feel appreciated—along with their lack of knowledge when it comes to love—are the reasons the two of them got so close to the NASTIEST MEN EVER!!!!

“Feelings of… understanding. Of being seen. He… loves me? He recognizes how poorly I’m regarded and that… I can’t pretend that doesn’t make me feel a little better, and feel appreciated.”

“… but I love you. Of that, there is no doubt […] how else could we have kissed? […] it means that you are kind, noble and splendid, and I could not help loving you … I will love you, Anatole. I will do anything for you.”

as if….. Anatole didn’t literally force himself onto Natasha……….. and as if ……. Elijah didn’t cause Sydney distress, stalk him, and take advantage of him ….. hm…… it’s almost as if….. they were vulnerable people who fell into the hands of …. very manipulative and dangerous people……

on that note,

Elijah —> Anatole

is anyone shocked. no one should be shocked.

they both share the Disney Prince charm—they’re both also blond and talk kinda similar.

the big similarity between them is that they are! very obsessed with one person! however, dare i say…..they’re both BIG love-bombers. they shower their muse, their object of affection—with love so great, no true lover could ever meet such heights! alas, this is the point….. both make great demands, forcing the other to do something that would greatly hurt the people they love, while also convincing them that the love of their family and friends could not POSSIBLY outweigh their own practical WORSHIP!! and therefore demand they agree to an abduction for an elopement, or to steal journals that are….. special to his closest friend…… for a lack of better word. BESIDES THE POINT: doing things they would have never done unless being convinced by a person who seemingly adores them, who wants the best for them—the ONLY one with their best interests in mind.

“Natalie, Natalie, Natalie, I must love you or die. Natalie, Natalie, Natalie, if you love me, say yes! And I will come and steal you away, steal you out of the dark.”

“My love, everyone else may be sleeping on your virtues, but I am wide awake. I love you. I would die for you.”

they’re both manipulative, noticeably charming, love-bombers, and generally quite extreme in their measures (both have committed attempted kidnapping!!!)

also both are quite physical and touchy……. pushing boundaries any chance they can, taking control of the other in whatever way they can, ya know!!

the motives r obvs …… very different (one wants to preach his cult i mean religion and the other is just a whore) but they go about it in the same fucking way

MOVING ON!!!

Jedidiah —> Pierre

my assignment for Jedidiah is expected BUT i kind of had to fight myself on also assigning him to Andrei instead of just. pretending Andrei wasn’t there because. Pierre wasn’t as directly responsible for Natasha’s loneliness as much as Jedidiah is for Sydney’s, BUT….. Pierre also isn’t around LMAO and Pierre doesn’t really have a reason unlike Andrei. he’s just drinking and sulking and reading, and he believes himself to be not good enough for Natasha. same as Jedidiah, but Jedidiah was more mentally ill about it.

“If I … were not myself … but the brightest, handsomest, best man on earth …and if I were free … I would get down on my knees this minute … and ask you for your hand … and for your love.”

“I swallowed the acid I’d coughed up, and relished how it burnt my throat. I’d never spit this up again. I’d let it dissolve me before I let another heart stop. Sydney, listen to me. I love you. I’ll dissolve, okay? I’ll shatter like glass. Like the face of a clock, and it whispers, Sydney, so please don’t listen… I love you…”

NONETHELESS. feels obvious because they’re both sad pathetic wet cats and both are CUCKLODS!! PIERRE THE CUCKOLD SITS AT HOME, THE POOR MAN!!! i pretend andrei isn’t here nor does he exist because he complicates my delusions. and one does not have space for that.

also…… Jedidiah threatening to bash Elijah’s head in with a statue is such a funny image. i need to draw Jedidiah absolutely seething with rage, foaming at the mouth.

ill do assignments to everyone else based on what’d be funniest in accordance to the musical dynamics and based on character vibe

[justalilpearlie]

I don't ship majormoon or hell even see pearl as trans, but I don't get the hate for trans man pearl x cis gay scott when I've seen ppl do this to other characters in the mcyt fandom even in the traffic life series and everyone loves it.

I think it's because it's a canon gay character and they think you making pearl trans as an "excuse to ship them" even if that was the case, which I think is not, you are still respecting Scott boundaries of not shipping him with women, idk it's just confusing how ppl are fine with it until you bring Scott into the mix.

Also we need more gay/straight ppl shipped with trans characters canon or not

Sorry I saw you get hate on that on the Scott shipping bracket, and as a trans person myself it felt really disrespectful

thank you so much anon yes exactly this 🙏🙏

All the labels I give Pearl are my labels too which is what bugs me the most about this

And I have a high school au thingy where I made her go like.

lesbian -> (straight?) trans man -> bisexual trans man -> gay trans man -> gay bigender -> bisexual? bigender -> what the fuck is going on man aaaaa labels are so hard -> gendervoid verinix and queer!! (But its easier to say ftm/bigender mlm. Still could like women but its so not often that prefers to call himself a gay man 98% of the time)

And guess what? THATS BEEN MORE OR LESS MY QUEER HISTORY SINCE I STARTED QUESTIONING MY IDENTITY!! ONLY DIFFERENCE IS I HAD A GENDERFLUID ERA BETWEEN CIS LESBIAN AND BI TRANS MAN-

My main reason to ship majormoon was because LL scott reminded me of my current partner

I still am not that big of a fan of DL majormoon cause. On the opposite end of the spectrum. DL scott reminds me of a shitty ex of mine.

But either way ofc I cant ignore it cause its a big part of their story! But thats why I tend to focus on spreading positivity about the ship in all its other aspects

If other people get to have fun, project, have headcanons and etc. Why cant I?

Cause I dont give Pearl short hair? Cause i dont change anything abt her design? Cause he still uses she pronouns? He/She slash She/He users also have the She there for a reason.

I dont change anything abt Pearl's design myself and let him present femenine/androgynous and keep the long hair in most of my art is. BECAUSE AGAIN THATS ME!!

I personally dont have body disphoria *most* of the time. I have social disphoria yes. I wanna be treated as a man and I dont want anyone I didn't explicitly allow to to she/her me cause yes Im bigender but i mostly feel like a man. But I have *zero* plans to medically transition.

I love how I look, I love how I dress, I love wearing make up and I love how my voice sounds. I dont personally fw long hair cause that *does* make sme disphoric, but for Pearl I think it fits her. I think he deserves to keep his hair long for as long as she decides to do so.

In general. Let people have their trans headcanons and ship them with whoever they want

a straight cis person dating a straight trans person doesnt make them a gay couple.

a gay/queer cis person dating a gay/queer trans person doesnt make them a straight couple.

Trans men dont owe you masculinity.

Trans women dont owe you femininity.

Nonbinary people dont owe you androgyny.

Transmasc =/= trans man

Transfem =/= trans woman

Pronouns =/= gender

I thought we all mostly knew this but just in case a little reminder

[lovecatsys]

okay I don't expect anyone to rb this but u can if u want this is just a lil mini rant abt David now that I've read Academy X

When I first started reading New X-Men I was like huh this is Not the David I know but now that I've gotten through all of his major character development I think I really Get where Gillen was coming from with him and think he actually got David right. I don't agree with David being attracted to Teddy or Colossus even though Gillen seems to think that's his Type (it's not, his type is asshole speedsters lmao. Kieron, could you by chance be, projecting? Mayhaps?) and like. If I was going to make any of the OG 12 queer I would have done Brian, the most obvious answer, but he got killed off too quickly for that to happen lol. But it's okay because David is a bi icon now and we love that for him.

I do find it a little strange that he and Tommy got along so well at first after what Nori did to him, but hey, who's to say he didn't even realize how similar they were? and given the long time period between YA 2 and when Tommy and David were confirmed to be together, I think it's safe to say that David may have forgiven her, or at least gotten over her enough to overlook the similarities between her and Tommy by that time.

But yeah... since then the only thing I've really liked for David was Gillen's Thinkfast pride story and the voices infinity one focused on Tommy. The rest... it's either crumbs where they're just reduced to "Nerd boy and asshole bf" or its... Williams' X-Factor.

The biggest problem, obviously, with X-Factor was the Hatecrime. That was not Leah's story to tell, and of course it's been so long now that if David gets to be big in anything it's unlikely it will be acknowledged. Which it SHOULD BE. Now that she did that, we HAVE to acknowledge it in his story because that isn't something that David should just be able to walk away from. Ignoring it or pretending it didn't happen, at this point, just isn't okay.

My other main criticism with Williams' David is that, well... along with many of her other characters in this book, he's pretty much reduced to a memey, one dimensional, fragment of what he has been in the past. He's "Distinguished bi nerd boy" which... that has never been David, that has never been who he is.

I think David working in investigation is very interesting and obviously his powers are very useful for that, but I wish we could bring back David working in combat, because friendly reminder, he has the fighting skills of everyone he's ever come into contact with, even when he had lost his powers, after the Cuckoos gave him everything back, he could fight like fucking Wolverine, he had all of Kitty's ninja training in him. and now he has even more than that. He's incredibly skilled in hand to hand combat, and he's also just, beyond useful and powerful in so many ways.

Anyways. to wrap this up. Idk how long Gillen is going to stay with the X books but I wish he would write David again. I wish David was in something big, or long enough to be interesting, I wish he was on a team, maybe even leading a team. He was such a great leader for the New Mutants Squad? He didn't even have powers or the knowledge he had before losing them when he helped his team take down FUCKING NIMROD??? HELLO?? He should be so much more relevant than he is right now.