#so when she hears that someone is transgender she is totally fine with it

[totheidiot]

so when my mother brushes my hair, that's when i sit around and watch death note in front of her. i rant to her about it a lot because SOMEBODY needs to listen to me going crazy over it. she knows about the basic characters like light, L, misa, near, mello, mikami (because i need to tell her how much i love him) and so today, i was watching the final episode for like the fifteenth time and ranting about near. that's when my extremely homophobic mother looked at the screen and claimed with 100% conviction that near from death note is a trans woman. God bless her.

[alsoanyways]

@transgender-scout @1ight wait fuck now i have to compile them okay okay okay i have a feeling this is gonna get long so I'm gonna put it under a cut haha but for real thank you for asking!!

First things first! This is how I imagine the flock is able to disguise themselves. There's no going undercover at an actual school for them, but I don't think anyone's looking twice at a bulky coat, especially if it's set in the future. Not too far in the future though, still in the 21st century. I have no ideas for a plot restructuring or anything, I never read past Nevermore and I barely remember anything past the fourth book, so most of my headcanons are character dynamics and such. I do have some that aren't focused on the flock but not many. Anyways.

(also idk if most of this can even be considered headcanon bc its basically fanfic at this point)

A couple things I should've added to the design post are Toto's Total’s nonexistence (I'm sorry if you like him but I do not lmao) and the fact that their hair is feathers. Like those very fine and very long feathers that roosters get. The flock also doesn't develop superpowers.

In my version of things, there's a small town close-ish to the E shaped house. Far enough that no one in town is gonna drop by for a visit, but close enough to fly down to for some groceries, which they'd do after Jeb left and until the money was gone. I think he would've taught them how to forage for things and that's how they get by since then.

Max (21) isn't The Leader TM either, I think leadership is shared more with Fang/Friday and Iggy. She likes volleyball and usually the one to go foraging. She's never thought about it but if she did, she'd probably consider herself agender.

Fang/Friday (22) gets his name from a Friday the 13th DVD cover, Jeb thinks he wants to be called Jason when he first points to it. He used to help Nudge/Dora and Angel with their hair when they were little and still does occasionally. He likes to draw and he's the go-to when someone needs to be comforted. There's no way in hell I would let him be anything less than bisexual.

Iggy (20) is the one that probably hears Friday's voice the most. He was also taught braille and Jeb got them a labeling machine. He's still the best cook and he's very protective over the vinyls/tapes/cds in the house. He mourns the loss of them when they have to flee the house, but he is excited to finally have access to new music. He's also gay. Because I said so.

Nudge/Dora (17) still wishes she could live a normal life, but has accepted that it's just not a possibility. She clings to "Dorothy" when she learns it. Being talkative and into fashion are still part of her character, but now she also loves bugs. She tags along when Max goes foraging so she can try and get pictures of any new bugs she hasn't seen before. Friday often gets to hear which bugs and what they were doing when they're sketching together.

Gazzy/Gizmo (14) gets his name when he watches the Gremlins movie for two months straight and starts mimicking the mogwai noises. He almost kills everyone when he mixes a couple cleaners from under the kitchen sink. He's quickly enamored with the chemistry books he's given afterwards. Like any other teenage boy, he likes video games and has too much energy for his own good. Max offers to race him when he's particularly amped.

Angel (11) is the only one out of the group that wasn't experimented on and she doesn't get the protectiveness or why they never go anywhere. She likes sitcoms and never refuses an offer to forage with Max. She also took a liking to helping Iggy cook things. She was very quick to tell people she wasn't a boy once she had the vocabulary.

Ari (15) has chronic pain. Being turned to goo and rebuilt into something different will do that to you. It doesn't get better the second time. Nor the third. He used to live in the E shaped house, before Jeb brought Gizmo, back when he was a regular kid. He's always liked animals, caring for them. He wanted to be a farmer or something when he grew up. After he joins the flock, he and Gizmo are fast friends. (Watching him and Gizmo dick around is what makes Friday realize that he really is just a kid.)

Maya/Em (21, kinda) my identity issues queen!! Cloning keeps the original memories intact and then they were further messed with to ensure her allegiance. She has a hard time coming to terms with that, with not being Max, not being who she thought she was. Her friends aren't her friends, she didn't watch Gizmo and Angel grow up, she didn't go to Friday after another nightmare, or call Dora to come catch a spider. That wasn't her. Having time away from them before she joins the flock helps. She renames herself Em during that time, distinct enough from Max but not removed from it completely. She learns that she likes cooking and she discovers cheerleading. She thinks she'd like that if she got the chance to participate. She's also aroace. She wants nothing to do with any of that.

Dylan (21) sticks closest to Em, but he eventually grows close to Iggy as well. They share a soaring/gliding wing shape and Iggy is grateful to have someone who can fly as long as he can (recreational flying is always cut short in his opinion, because the others have to work harder to stay airborne and get tired). Dylan likes to tinker around with motors and mechanisms, trying to get them to work again or building them from the ground up. Not that he has an abundance of opportunities to do that, but being able to fix a busted car comes in handy. He's one of them gays that can drive.

Lastly, I do have ideas on Erasers and different classes of them and their usages but jesus christ this did in fact get very long and I need to go eat something lmao so that'll have to be a separate post for another time.

[wifelinkmtg]

Yeah alright let’s talk Tarkir

Getting this out of the way: I do not care about Alesha, so if you were coming here ready to hear anything about the first-ever transgender girl out of Magic*, sorry to disappoint.

Actually, yeah, I’m gonna talk about this for a little bit. I understand Alesha means a lot to some people, and I’m not saying they’re wrong to feel that way. I’m sure there are people who had to fight to make Alesha openly & canonically trans, and I’m not saying that this was meaningless, wasted effort. It’s nice to be able to point to someone and say, see, there’s a place for people like me here. I was excited about it at the time and I wasn’t even into Magic back then.

But like c’mon, y’all, she’s not really a character, right? She gets one story, the thrust of which is, “this character is trans, and that’s basically fine.” Alesha exists to be part of the banner image of the internal WotC LGBT employees’ monthly newsletter. She exists to be the discord avatar for every third trans girl into Magic. She exists so a massive corporation can point to her as evidence that they care in some nebulous way about trans people, and she costs slightly less than paying someone to, say, actually moderate the hate speech comments on their vids of Autumn Burchett’s pro tour games.

All of which is to say, they don’t actually care. You know this. Individual staff, writers, artists - sure, but they’re not the ones who make the final decisions. And you and I deserve better from our stories, and we’re never going to get that from fucking Hasbro, right?

So here’s my pitch: seek out actual queer stories, and I’m not talking about contemporary YA shit with a marketing budget. For readers of this specific blog I’d recommend looking up “Attack Helicopter” by Isabel Fall (you should still be able to find it online). Stories where the texture and structure of thought are queer and trans are revelatory. You don’t need to beg for crumbs from a megacorp’s table.

ANYWAY, COMMA,

welcome to Tarkir! There used to not be dragons here, but now there are. In either timeline, everyone is locked in a brutal, unending struggle of clan-against-clan, so thanks, Sarkhan? Yeah, no, I hear you, it’s definitely different now. Yeah, and better. Yeah, because of the...yeah, because there’s dragons now, right. No, you did great, buddy. You really, uh, made a difference.

JESUS, IS HE CRYING? GET ME OUT OF HERE PLEASE

Monastery Swiftspear (art by Steve Argyle)

I’ve come to think of the current era of MtG art (let’s arbitrarily say from Kaladesh block to the present) as the “Magali Villeneuve era”, and if I’m being totally honest, I kind of hate it. Everything is technically competent, clearly lit, and immaculately detailed. Everyone has amazing cheekbones. It is so, so boring. I’m not at all saying she’s a bad artist! Sometimes, as with Kaldheim, she is very nearly the only person in a set making good art. I’ve featured her work on here many, many times.

What I am saying is that her work always has this, like, objectivity to it that feels detached and even alienating, like we’re looking at these characters through a powerful telescope. There’s no stylization, and dare I say no style.

The reason I bring her up in a set in which I will not be reviewing her work (sorry, Narset fans), is that Steve Argyle makes for an interesting comparison. They are to my untrained eye very similar artists: the sharp linework, the combination of dynamics and detachment. The major difference is that Steve’s art is substantially hornier and substantially male-gazier.

And goddammit, at least that’s something.

I HAVE THIS OPINION BECAUSE I’M A BAD FEMINIST. AND I DESERVE TO BE PUNISHED ABOUT IT

Unyielding Krumar (art by Viktor Titov)

I’m not sure why Viktor made this orc look like a ripped lizard man. None of the other orcs in this block look like this. Maybe he thought “krumar” was a species of lizard folk, when in point of fact a krumar is, checks notes, an orphan of the Mardu raised by the Abzan who killed their parents in a twist of worldbuilding regrettably reminiscent of a strategy used in real-world genocides. Whoops!

Anyway, big arms. Lizard person. Sorry about your family.

WIZARDS STAY CLASSY I GUESS

Ire Shaman (art by Jack Wang)

Yeah, see, extremely not a lizard.

We’re not going to talk about armor practicality because that is very much beside the point, but we were all thinking it, and I want to acknowledge that before moving onto saying nice things about what all the leather bands are doing for her arms, and what this lamellar bustier is doing for her tits.

YEAH I KNOW WHAT LAMELLAR IS. PRETTY HOT, RIGHT

Den Protector (art by Viktor Titov)

I am not immune to mothers, nor women in furs, and I’m especially not immune to women with big two-handed weapons (in either sense, I suppose.) I really like the sense of motion in this picture, and the dynamic thrust of the landscape behind her, and... hm. Is her right-hand grip reversed from what it should be? Dammit, that’s going to bother me.

I LIKE MY WOMEN TO HAVE BETTER GRIP TECHNIQUE IS ALL I’M SAYING

Wandering Champion (art by Willian Murai)

I am trying really, really hard not to date myself by a reference to a shitty 20-year-old flash animation. Anyway! she has flexibility, power, and isn’t afraid of a little viscera now and again. All excellent qualities.

I AM HONESTLY EXERCISING IMMENSE SELF-RESTRAINT HERE

Sultai Flayer (art by Izzy)

Sorry, do you not want a forty-foot androgyne snake person to remove your skin with tender, agonizing slowness? Are you lost?

WHY DON’T YOU MARRY YOUR SKIN IF YOU’RE SO GODDAMN ATTACHED TO IT. PUSSY.

Highspire Mantis (art by Igor Kieryluk)

I did the mantis bit in my Battle for Zendikar post, but I thought I’d actually dig into what the appeal is here: raptorial forelimbs. The inescapable, serrated hold of something that could slice you open as easy as thinking, but hasn’t yet. The smoothness of chitin, hard without being inflexible. The many strange articulations. And then either you make out or it eats your head, and it is not up to you which.

WHEN WILL WIZARDS GIVE US THE MANTIS-FUCKER REPRESENTATION WE DESERVE. ROSEWATER’S SILENCE ON THIS ISSUE IS DEAFENING.

Alright, that’s Tarkir down! Who knows what’s next? Probably a very cranky explanation of what fiction is and why it’s okay to like fictional bad guys (it’s because they’re not real.) At first I thought that was going to be a more interesting topic, but the more I think about it the more it seems like it’s...really not. I can have fun with it, though! Thanks for reading, and I’ll see y’all next time.

---------

*the first-ever transgender girl out of Magic/had to settle on a name/and the top three contenders after weeks of debate/were Alesha/and Shensu/and the Kolaghan Bomber

[kentuckyfriedsatan]

Here is a little multi chapter fic I’m currently working on.

Basically Dewdrop is not dealing so good with the soon arrival of the new water ghoul. It brings him back to times before his transition. Will Rain and Dew ever be able to be friends, or even more?

Or

Sunshine is a total badass and has to knock sense into literally everybody.

(Dewdrop is a trans man and uses he/him pronouns. Sunshine is transfem and uses she/they pronouns.)

I’m at chapter 6 right now, so you can read it up to there on AO3:

And I will do my best to post all chapter here on tumblr too, it will take a bit of time though.

Echos of Transcendence

Chapter 1

cw: gender dysphoria and a bit of depression because of it

Read it below the cut!

He looks at his reflection in the mirror. The long white hair Dewdrop normally cherishes is unkempt and greasyly hanging into his face, desperately needing a wash.

But for a week now he hasn’t really been in the mood for that. Copia had let him know about the summoning happening today at full moon a week prior. It wasn’t just any other summoning, it’s the summoning of the new water ghoul for the band project.

Something about the idea of a new water ghoul in their quarters makes his skin crawl. It reminds him of the time Dew himself was water, oh, and also important, a water ghoulette. He doesn’t hate who he was, but he more feels completely disconnected to who he was before his transition. It’s like his life finally began for real when he told his pack that he is transgender.

Since then he made adjustments to his body, taking hormones and getting top surgery. And even though that all helped him pass, the dysphoria never really goes away.

In front of the mirror he feels like his hips are too wide, he is too short with delicate hands and thin tail and he hates it.

And now he has to see somebody every day of the week, that reminds him of a time he was completely miserable and someone he could have been. Dew knew that this day had to come, the band needs to continue and is missing a bass player, but that doesn’t stop him from sulking.

He get‘s ripped from his thoughts when he hears knocking on his door.

“Dew! We have to leave for the chapel in an hour, are you nearly ready?“ Sunshine calls.

He gives no response. Dew doesn’t want to be seen by anybody. He is ashamed that he still isn’t over this. Why does he always have to be a problem?

“If you are in there and ignoring me, I will kick your ass!”

“Just leave me alone Sunny!”

Dewdrop yells back.

But she is not so easyly dismissed and knocks again just to signal her stubbornness.

“Come on,let me in! I know it’s hard for you right now, I just want to help. I’m your friend and I care for you!”

But why is it so hard for Dew? He transitioned years ago, he should have himself in check by now and not fall into a depressive phases as soon as a new water ghoul is only mentioned.

Sunny outed herself as transfem only this year and they don’t have the same problem it seems.

She is so much stronger than him. He is just pathetic. Everybody always has to help and comfort him, and he feels like he doesn’t deserve their kindness. He’s just weak.

“I don’t want your help! I will be fine!” Dewdrop says harshly.

He always reverts back to anger when he doesn’t know how to deal with his dark thoughts. He doesn’t want Sunny’s help, he will just drag her down.

“Nope, this is not happening! You are not shutting me out like this. I will come in now!”

Sunshine pushes the door open, determined to break through Dew's isolation.

When she sees his slumped posture in front of the mirror, they rush over to him. He registers their approach, but doesn’t try to move. Shame is rolling of him in waves. Her soft voice somehow breaks through to him.

“Come on firefly, can you look at me please?”

He slowly lifts his eyes. He doesn’t know why he expected to see disgust or anger in her eyes, but there is nothing but kindness and concern.

“Listen to me right now. I know what you are thinking, you are not weak and you are not a disappointment. We all like caring for you, you are our pack, our family and we love you. There is no such thing as needing to much help Dew. When you are not okay, you are not okay. And I am here to help. You care for all of as so deeply, let us return the favour please.”

He breaks down in sobs relived, shoulders shaking. Dew really needed to hear that to break him out of his downwards spiral.

“Can you maybe hug me?”

Before he can even finish his question, Sunshine has him wrapped tightly in her arms. He snivels a bit more, while they stroke his hair calmingly. Dew slowly stops his crying.

“Here we go. Do you want to talk?”

“I just feel so stupid you know? Dysphoria hit me last week so hard I couldn’t even shower, and all just because they will summon a new water ghoul. I shouldn’t feel this way anymore, especially because of such a stupid reason!”

“Don’t invalidate your feelings like that! I know it must be hard for you to always be reminded of the time you didn’t live as your true self. I will support you, I understand you and I will be there for you if you need anything. And if the new ghoul or anybody else gives you problems we will drag them back into the pit!”

Dewdrop has to smile and nods. “Same applies for you too of course. I will fuck them up if they say transphobic shit to you.”

“I know, thank you.” She smiles. “Now what do we do about this?” Sunshine vaguely gestures at his hair and overall state. Dew lets his head hang.

“‘m sorry for you having to see me like this…” he says shyly, tears rising to his eyes.

“Oh don’t worry about that, I have seen nearly every member of the pack in states worse than yours. And do you remember when I was first summoned and was afraid of the water from the shower for a long time? I must have been disgusting, but you still helped me get over it and even washed my messy hair. So really, you don’t have to worry.”

Dew then sniffles one last time and says: “I think I’m ready to shower now.”

“That’s good Dew! Do you want me to distract you?”

They ask.

Dew is really glad Sunshine offered a distraction or he knows he would spiral again as soon as he takes off his clothes. So he nods enthusiastically.

“Yes, that would really help me a lot.”

The shower wasn’t too bad, they turned off the light and Sunny let her hands glow just enough for Dew not to fall over in the shower. When they ran out of dad jokes to tell, she started singing the ingredients of different products lying around the bathroom. She wasn’t able to pronounce most of them correctly, but it obviously made Dew laugh, so they just continued until Dew was finished.

After he was dressed in the usual black uniform, Sunny and Dew both used their element to dry his hair and he let her brush it. It definitely calmed him down.

“Are you ready?”

Sunshine asks after glancing at her watch.

“As ready as I will ever be.”

[kindestegg]

Heya! I'm curious to hear your opinion on the last episode in general, I don't think you've said much from what I've seen. Mainly on Collie and stuff, and especially what you think about them going away in the end there. Are you perhaps planning to write a post on that or anything? I just like your takes on things so I'm curious

... can I say something? It makes me stupidly emotional in a positive way that so many people have been showing interest in my opinions and thoughts about toh and collector. I knew my posts on them had gotten somewhat popular, but it genuinely surprises seeing how many people seem to think of me and want to hear what I have to say! You guys are too incredibly sweet and I just want to thank you!

This got... pretty long since I assumed you wanted an overall rundown of my thoughts on the episode not just focused on colly so uhhh... tagging it as long post.

As for my general thoughts on the episode... they are... uhhh A LOT of ohhhhh that's so cool ohhh that's so awesome... it was genuinely just a very fun high spirits episode for me, I was surprised seeing how easily colly was swayed and how willing he was to try and be friends... he is truly a very kind being! How strong raine was to push belos out and keep going, their ingenuity as well with all their movements!! They're so cool... the way they confirmed my suspicion that Collector really loves titans and knows a lot about their anatomy and culture!

I REALLY didn't think they were gonna do the Luz death fake out, that shocked me a lot since we already had a fake out with hunter, but now I'm starting to think they maybe did that to be a direct parallel to flapjack, as that one also featured the glowing lights rising. But then we met King's mom who is a total furbait for me so like!!! It's fine!!! Helloooo sexyyyyy!!!!!!! I love that they're genderfluid that got me so happy I love that he explains it by calling back to King's line about being queen and king that was already so damn transgender!!! I can't believe King is bigender just like her dad!!!

They have such good vibes anyway so it was really nice seeing them. Ngl I was kind of against seeing the titan again bc it was made such a point he was gone and we should mourn them, but she did kinda... die right after anyway so it's fine, and also again she is so cool it's kind of hard to not want him to have shown up. I love hiiiim. And then for that matter. Their conversation was so sweet and I love how it puts emphasis on two core themes of the series: the leftist sentiment of it being severely more important to fight to protect others genuinely from oppression and violence than to be respectable at those in power, and that Luz was never meant to be a chosen one, but she was a good kind person who deserved through her being there to be trusted. And is it not often just a matter of someone who is good choosing to do good when it counts?

I was a little sad that colly didn't get to do much fighting alongside the cast, but then again so didn't... most of the hexsquad! And his role was so important too, protecting everyone inside the Archives!! He is so very strong and i am so proud of him. Luzs titan form was so epic and her fight scene along with eda and King and eventually also raine was so cool!!!! And so was the scene with her just standing over belos... fuck yeah

I do not know if many more people noticed!! But the symbols around the titan as his spirit left luzs body were alchemical sun/gold symbols!! See!!! It's a titan symbol!! Also for that matter, the symbol on luzs chest on her titan design is the sun connected to the earth im pretty sure!! And i do love that King's dad said i love you with a bread pun but it is funny he almost... forgot to send any message lmao. It's okay though I'm sure she just wasn't prepared ♡

Ah and then the ending!! Was cute!! Personally I find the ending and epilogue pretty okay, I don't think it'll satisfy everyone of course, but I liked it well enough, everyone's endings felt nice. I HAVE actually spoken extensively (although more casually) about how I feel on Colly's fate, you can find that on my commander's answers tag as I responded to an anon on it, and I DO have a post about it planned but it will take... quite a long while to make, currently I am still laying down bullet points and I'm only to the second part of it and there are already four pages... uhm. Yeah. That and I'm starting to realize that it might make half the fandom want to crush me in a metal compactor. So thats fun. But well! I am committed to information above all!

Thank you again for the ask and for thinking of me!

[hellomynameisbisexual]

“The fear of rejection is twice as scary when the person looking out for you is not only is your parent, but they also have a higher responsibility of care because of your disability,” says Rian Hiney. As a bisexual, trans man, the 17-year-old has not only had to reveal his sexuality to his loved ones, but his gender identity, too.

Growing up being treated as a girl, Rian tells The Independent that he “never exactly felt ‘feminine’.”

“My mum used to try and dress me in pretty ‘girly’ dresses but all I remember is how I used to refuse and how uncomfortable I felt. I was constantly labelled a ‘tomboy’ and now that I am older, I totally detest the word," says Rian, who was born with an unknown condtion similar to quadreplegic cerebral palsy.

“It’s just a phase. You’re a tomboy. You’ll grow out of this’, whatever ‘this’ is’,” is the response that Rian became used to hearing.

“If I am going to be honest, when I was younger I didn’t even know what ‘this’ was, I just knew that ‘this’ wasn’t a phase, ‘this’ was me and there was nothing I could do to change ‘this’," he adds.

As Rian grew older, he gradually realised there was vocabulary - “trans” - to describe what he was feeling. The term describes a person who does not identify with the gender they were assigned with at birth, and therefore doesn't relate to a person's sexuality. But first, he had to deal with coming out as a bisexual.

“I initially came out as bisexual at the age of 15," he says. "I remember I first told my sisters and my friends. It wasn’t a massive shock to them and they actually took it quite well. I don’t think I really came out as bisexual to my parents, I just talked about bringing a girl or a boy or whoever home one day, and they had a hard time at first but they kind of accepted it. My mum did keep asking about it, ‘so who do you prefer,’ and what I got from my dad is ‘you’re missing the point, you silly girl’.”

But Rian still didn't feel quite right. Having been open about his sexuality, he was still uncertain to articulate his feelings about his gender identity without any role models to follow.

"When I first heard the word ‘transgender’, I initially thought of the offensive and outdated stereotypes of ‘cross-dressers’ and ‘lady boys’," he says. "There was no representation for me to look up to.” Rian slipped into a depression, and his sister noticed the red flagsof his mental health. With her support, Rian was able to open up about how the gender he was assigned at birth didn’t match up with how he truly felt inside.

“I just asked her, ‘What do you think of the name Rian?’, and we went from there. I told her everything.”

What frightened him was how his parents - who were responsible for his care - would react. "I didn’t want to feel like a 'disappointment' to my mum, and with my dad being your typical old fashioned conservative type of guy, I was very apprehensive."

"In the end, it wasn’t too bad. I just kind of came out with it spontaneously one day and my Dad's reaction really surprised me. He was quite calm about the whole thing and he has taken it within his stride. And apart from her at first teasing me about the name Rian (she didn’t like it at first), my mum has been fine."

Still, Rian's journey to acceptance was far from over. He quickly learned that while he was certain he was bisexual, the prejudice towards disabled people meant that others struggled to understand how he could have sexual feelings at all. And when he came out as trans, the prejudice he already faced was compounded by an unwanted fascination with his sexuality. Disappointingly, he discovered that while the disabled and LGBT communities are largely progressive and open, Rian didn't always feel accepted.

“Both communities regularly face other people’s nonsense. People being condescending, trying to teach you about gender and or disability, people treating your identity as a burden, and both communities are still fighting for their rights,” says Rian. Recent figures show that attacked on LGBT people have spiked by 80 per cent in the UK over the last four years, while the United Nations recently criticised the Government for failing to uphold the rights of disabled people following the implementation of austerity policies.

“Our sexual identities are constantly under critique,” he goes on. “Within the Trans community we are often overly sexualised. People do not see anything wrong with asking invasive questions about our genitals. Transwomen are often objects of sexual desire for straight cis‐men, but then still face violent transphobia from these cis‐men. Transmen and Transwomen aren’t looked at as ‘real’ men or women by some people, if they haven’t chosen to or been able to get surgery on their genitals.”

“On the other hand, people don’t think those who have a disability and in particular, wheelchair users have the right to be intimate. Some people can’t even comprehend it – someone at school recently said to me, ‘How can you be bisexual? You’re disabled and you can’t even have sex’. Trans people are hypersexualised and disabled people are desexualised. This is why people struggle to box me in.”

“I haven’t always felt embraced by the trans community as someone who has a disability. I have heard ableist comments made within the LGBTQI community and I have encountered ableism within LGBTQI ‘safe’ spaces numerous times. I often see people who are supposed to be allies making offensive ableist comments on social media during arguments and it is.”

So Rian is facing his situation by paving the way for others like him. He is currently on the board of Whizz-Kidz, the charity for young people who use wheelchairs, and hopes to act as a role model to other disabled and LGBT people.

He looks to a future where coming out is no longer necessary.

“I hope a time will come in the future where people won’t need to ‘come out.’ Instead people will just be allowed to ‘be’. I can’t see that happening in this generation to be honest, but I am confident that we are changing things enough so that people in the next generation will find things slightly easier. That’s what it is all about.”

[mcrmadness]

This is just me talking about (my) asexuality and aromanticism and mainly about how I figured I'm aroace. I'm from Finland and recently turned 30 so my experience and "lgbt+ history" might not be what you know it as, especially if you are not from Europe, or if your native language is English.

Also this is highly personal, so I doubt anyone here will have 100% same experience. But that's fine because remember: we're all individuals here and these are NEVER universal. You're still valid even if you wouldn't relate to what being aspec is to me.

It might be IS a long post so beware, but I've just been feeling like writing down some thoughts so here we go...

What I have been able to track is that I was 17, in 2008, when I first stumbled upon the term "asexuality". I don't remember exactly how, but I just remember reading about it and immediately going "yeah that's me". But what I do remember is that no one talked it being about sexual attraction. Basically how understood it was: asexuality = sex-repulsion.

I was 17, and somehow I knew I was sex-repulsed, but at the same time also thought I'm just a minor, so it's normal to be sex-repulsed. But even after turning 18, I don't recall ever feeling sexual attraction. I didn't think of myself as a "late bloomer" but just as someone who just has no interest towards sex. At some point I became really anxious of men, however. Nothing has ever happened to me* but still I, for some reason, developed terrible fear of men. I'm afab and just did not want to be seen as an object, and it made, still makes me, terrified to think someone might look at me and have Emotions. I know that we can't control our brains, I mean, I can't look at someone and force myself to feel attraction - just like those who do feel attraction, can't force themselves to stop feeling attraction. They can only control their actions. But yeah, I also had horrible (sexual) intrusive thoughts due to my generalized anxiety disorder at some point, which did not really help. They got a bit better when I came into terms with my asexuality and aromanticism, but sometimes they still come at me and it's never fun, but at least they're not as strong as what they used to be.

*(Unless if you can count that as sexual harrasment when, CW, I was 11 and a classmate was "into" me and tried to touch my face and talk "sweet things" to me but made it into a show despite me being uncomfortable and usually crying cos as a neurodivergent I didn't know how else to react.)

But anyway, back to the topic. So for years I understood asexuality as sex-repulsion, but I guess it's because I, well, am a sex-repulsed ace. So if I'm sex-repulsed, why would I then look at someone and feel something if I'm repulsed by the thing anyway? Like, it probably can't get any simpler than this :D And I know today that it's not as simple anymore. But that was 2008, at school (in ~2005) they only talked about gays a little, on one page in a sex.ed. book that otherwise was maybe 100 pages long. Only one page. About gays. And it was basically "Some boys like boys or some girls like girls and it's totally fine." and that was it, but the overall assumption was that everyone likes someone. And also there were no romantic orientations. Liking someone = both sexually and romantically. Not liking = not a thing except when you were depressed or otherwise mentally ill, or autistic or mentally disabled (which is a SUPER ableist take btw). I don't remember teachers ever talking about this, but it could also just be my adhd, maybe they did mention, but I just don't remember. At least in my notebooks there is no mention of this, everything was very much heteronormative and amatonormative, and also there was only two genders. I don't remember ever hearing about transgender people, apart from foreign documentaries and in them they were always portrayed as some shocking freaks of the nature, and loads of wrong terms were used. And this is still the mid and late 2000s we're talking about!

So this takes us to the other part aka aromanticism. Back then asexuality was not only sex-repulsion but also merged together with aromanticism, because people didn't talk about romantic orientations yet. So asexuality was not only sex-repulsion, but also you simply just not wanting a relationship. Again, nothing about attraction, just someone who did not care about sex nor relationships. A "forever single", if you will.

This was already annoying me a lot back then because I was really annoyed by sex "running the world". I was so angry because why is asexual the only sexuality that doesn't like sex? All the other sexualities had the assumption of them always wanting to have sex. Like, even think about someone who is straight, you hear that someone is straight, and you automatically assume(d) that oh they're into sex too cos why wouldn't they be. This was really driving me nuts because I was sure there are people who want to have a partner, but never want to have sex! I was still experiencing crushes, and I knew for sure it was nothing sexual, so it annoyed me that just because I'm asexual, it means I can't have crushes. That's why I actually called myself as "asexual bi" for a while, because "bisexual" indicated I would have not been sex-repulsed and I wanted to point out that I'm NOT into sexual things, at all - and remember that this was still the late 2000s or early 2010s and I had not heard of romantic orientations yet! So I was up to something, there just were no terms for that yet! Today that would be called bi-/panromantic asexual.

I haven't been able to track the exact date or even year when did I figure out I'm aromantic, or when did I hear about romantic orientations for the first time. From the messages I've been able to find, I was already in my early 20s. Aka somewhere around maybe 2011-2013. In those, I have still been wondering what I am or if I even want to have a relationship, not being really able to tell what I wanted or didn't want. Again, no one told me romantic orientations are about ATTRACTION and not about whether you have commitment issues or not (this as a half-joke, cos I have severe commitment issues with everything :D I need to feel free!).

Anyway, I do remember my key moment with aromanticism, or the "aromantic awakening" as you could call it too, was when I was 17 or 18. Or maybe I was older? I don't know, I have time blindness. Anyway, I had this one online friend I had a "crush" on (I think it was just undiagnosed adhd's person hyperfixation) and I even told her about it. Everything just is super shady, from those years, I was not really on my best and there are so many overlapping memories that feel like different alternative universes instead of memories on a same timeline. Anyway, I just remember at some point thinking about this girl and I thought about some "romantic" stuff, like kissing, and I just remember my brain going "NOOOOOPE!" I had wanted to meet with her some day so bad, but when I started thinking about actually meeting with her, I started to nope the fuck out. All I had in my head was awkward embarrassing "first kiss" scenarios from movies and I just was not having it! I basically went "lol I guess I'm aro too, then XD" but I still don't remember when did I have this realization. Was I 17? Or was I, say, 22? I guess I need to go through my old MSN Messenger and Skype convos some day to investigate this further because I really want to know. I couldn't even find anything from my Tumblr from those times (I registered here in 2011), but I don't know if that's just me not tagging or Tumblr search functioning normally (aka it never finds anything).

But yeah, I am touch-repulsed. And kiss-repulsed, and romance-repulsed, too, (unless it's my OTP we're talking about). I'm still not exactly sure if I'm touch repulsed because I'm aromantic, or if I'm aromantic because I'm touch-repulsed. I only know that because of my sensory issues (I'm neurodivergent), I have never liked touching nor being touched. Even as a little kid I hated hugs and never liked sitting on anyone's lap. I only tolerated my parents, mainly my mom, because they were my safe place as an extremely shy baby/toddler/kid, who was especially wary about men. I can't explain the latter, but there was something about adult men that caused me (as a baby) to hide my face against my mom's shoulder if they talked to me. I did that to everyone I didn't know, but especially to men I didn't know. No idea why.

I also remember how my siblings loved to sit on people's laps and were always climbing onto their laps, and I didn't like this. And once my (late) grandma was so touched when she asked me if I want to sit on her lap (I was maybe 5-7?) and I agreed just to make her happy. I still remember how it felt, and I did not like it at all, but it still made my grandma so happy that I THINK she almost cried when she told my mom I actually agreed to sit on her lap. I'm not sure how real this last part of the memory is because I was so young. But I do remember thinking I do that for a change because I knew my grandma would be happy.

So yeah, my touch-repulsion is not exactly a new thing but just something that has been a part of my personality forever. But is that the core reason for why I only feel aesthetic attraction? I never look at people and feel like I wanna touch. More of the opposite, the idea of having to touch them or them touching me makes me go "eeewww". If you have seen that video of a gibbon shaking their whole body after seeing a rat in their exhibit? That's what I feel like when I think about touching or being touched, in just any way, also platonically.

The only time I feel "sensual attraction" is when I see photos or videos of animals. The urge to pet a tiger is insane. But the feel of another human's skin or muscle (or hair or whatever) is very repulsive to me.

I still remember how disgusting it felt to e.g. sit on a cousin's lap. We sometimes used swings like this, and somehow I was aware of it not feeling nice, but still not doing anything about it cos it also was okay? Only later I have realized I really, really loathe the texture of human skin. Or the warmth and overall feeling of a human body. For example, I was at least 7 or younger when I sat on my cousin's lap while we were sitting on a swing and STILL, after over 20 years, I have that all in my body memory. I remember how the thigh bone felt under my legs and how freaking disgusting the muscles felt inbetween. Also at school, on the 1st grade, we often had to walk in a line of twos after the teacher and hold the pair's hand so no one gets lost. My then-friend had so ridiculously dry skin that the only thing I could think of was how I felt like throwing up because the skin on her palm felt so damn disgusting. I still can feel that in my hand when I think of it. That's one of my "core memories" from 1st grade - how disgusting the human skin can feel like.

I don't think I have ever felt actual romantic attraction towards anyone. It's really difficult to differentiate because as I mentioned, I get those people hyperfixations easily. I guess it's the same hormones but I never really want to do anything with them? I guess it's the emotional intimacy that "attracts" me and what gets me excited, but I'm still not exactly sure what emotional intimacy means to me. I don't exactly fall into the QPR category either, in a way I wish I had a best friend whose best friend also I would be, and that neither would have anyone else who is "better" than the other one. But the only intimacy there would be emotional intimacy, nothing else. And I need my freedom so I wouldn't move in with any human being, either.

Sometimes I've thought my "ideal partner" would be a robot because if I get annoyed, I could just turn it off and stuff into a closet and leave there, and if I felt like not having a "relationship" anymore, I could just remove the harddrive and destroy the robot, or both. That way I would be the only one with the memories, and I wouldn't have to worry about someone out there knowing things about me, things that only the closest can know, and I'm really afraid of letting anyone close in case it won't work (also with regular friendships) because I can't stop thinking about how much I wish I had that MIB memory cancelling device so that they would again know almost nothing, or at least much much less about me. There's already one friendship that ended a few years ago and I still keep thinking about how I wish I could take everything back and how I wish they delete(d) all the files and drawings and stuff I sent them. There are so many things about me I wish I never told them, now as we are no longer friends. Back then it felt like "of course this is gonna last a lifetime!" but turns out that nope, not all friendships will.

I guess it's time to stop rambling. This post is really long already. If you read it all the way here: congrats. And thanks. You probably just wasted your time but... that's on you I guess :DDD But yeah, some thoughts from a 30-years-old aroace who has been aware of their identity for at least or almost 10 years now.

[thatsamericano]

I Just Want You To Know Who I Am

Pairing/Characters: America/Romano. Brief appearances from Spain, Belgium, and Veneziano. Background mention of Gerita.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mentions of transphobia, misgendering, and gender dysphoria. Some internalized acephobia. The fic is overall very fluffy in tone, and none of the characters are shown dealing with someone who doesn’t accept their sexuality or gender identity.

Summary: Romano didn’t always have the words to tell people who he was, but now that he does, he wants America to know he’s transgender. He’s scared, but he isn’t going to let that stop him anymore.

Word Count: 3065

Savino was glad he had words to succinctly describe who he was now. A long time ago, there hadn’t been words to describe the innate sense of wrongness he felt in his own body, his aversion to the name his grandfather had given him that went beyond his personal issues with the man, or the inexplicable way he’d felt like crying every time someone complimented him by telling him what a pretty little girl he was.

Centuries ago, when he was small, confused, and terrified, he tried to explain it for the first time. Spain was his guardian, and the only person he could turn to. Savino had told Antonio that he didn’t want to wear dresses like Belgium did. He wanted to wear trousers like Spain and have his hair cut like Spain’s too.

“But why?” Spain had asked, brow creased in confusion. “You look so preciosa in the clothes you have now.”

Romano had looked away, ashamed. “I… I don’t want to be preciosa, Spain. I want to be precioso.”

Spain blinked, stunned by what Romano had said. He’d probably never heard of such a thing, but to his credit, he had reacted as well as could be expected. He smiled at Romano and ruffled his hair. “I’ll make you some trousers and a shirt then, mijo.”

“Grazie, Tonio.” There was something that felt so right about Spain calling him mijo, acknowledging him as a son instead of a daughter. He puffed up his chest with a pride he’d never felt before.

“Of course. Should I call you another name too?”

“Just call me Romano for now.” He wasn’t sure of the human name he wanted yet.

Spain had helped so much after Romano told him the truth as he understood it back then. He cut Romano’s hair, dressed him as a boy, and agreed to use the human name Romano eventually decided upon. Spanish and Italian were both gendered languages, and Spain was very good about referring to him with the right endearments and adjectives. He complimented his little henchman just as much as he had before, but he never called him preciosa again.

When Belgium saw him in trousers for the first time, she had naturally been confused. Antonio had rubbed the back of his neck and sheepishly explained how he had been mistaken. Romano had always been a boy, but he hadn’t known. And since he was a boy, he ought to wear boy clothes and have his hair cut like one.

Belgium had bent down closer to his height and told Savino what a handsome boy he was. And that had made him feel so wonderful, to have someone else see him as a boy, especially a beautiful woman like Belgium. Romano had been able to explain everything to her later once he was an adult and had better language to describe who he was. Belgium nodded along with a soft little smile and said she hadn’t known that at the time, but figured it might have been something like that later, when she had been able to reflect on what happened with a better, more modern understanding of transgender people. She agreed to keep it secret for Savino, since it wasn’t something he wanted spread around.

He’d told Veneziano too. By then, he was presenting as a boy and most people believed he was one because they didn’t know he’d ever been considered a girl. Veneziano knew about his past, but it didn’t seem to make a difference to him. “Famiglia is famiglia,” he’d said. “And a fratello’s just as good as a sorella.” After asking for his new human name, Feliciano had hugged him and told him he didn’t need to know anything else unless Savino wanted to share it with him. From that day on, Feli had been just like Tonio. He never spoke to him as if he wasn’t a man, even if the idea of someone like Savino being a man wasn’t well understood at the time.

There were others he’d told over the years, mostly his prospective lovers. Savino couldn’t risk someone being disgusted by the sight of his naked body, so he’d always told them in advance, long before he got involved with them physically. But each time he was taking a huge risk, not just of rejection but of violence. Humans were not kind to men like him, and nations wouldn’t necessarily be either. There were many people he wanted but never pursued for that very reason, and America was one of them.

Alfred seemed kind, and he was a loud and vocal supporter of LGBT rights. He saw himself as a hero, and he truly wanted to make the world a better place for everyone. Once, Alfred had put his arm around Savino’s shoulders and promised that Romano could count on him if he was ever in a fix. Romano had pretended to be annoyed, mostly because he liked America’s arm around his shoulders a little too much.  He liked Alfred a little too much, and he had for decades, ever since he had lived in his house so long ago and grown to feel like Alfred’s place was a home as much as he anywhere that wasn’t South Italy could be. But he couldn’t bring himself to admit he loved him, not now, not when he hadn’t revealed something so important about who he was. It was one thing to be rejected by someone you had a silly crush on that didn’t mean anything, but it was another thing to be rejected by someone you loved. Savino didn’t know if he could survive the latter.

Romano was in such a better place than he’d been when he told Spain that first time, so long ago. He knew who he was and he had words for it that would make sense to other people who had never felt as he did. He’d been living as a man for centuries, and no one had questioned that in a long time. The twentieth century had brought with it medicines and surgeries for men like him, wonderful inventions that could bring his body more in line with his internal sense of himself. Romano still had occasional bouts of dysphoria, but now he could look at his naked body in the mirror without shame. He was mostly fine with who he was these days, and with the long journey he’d taken to get there. But would America be?

There was only one way to find out. Romano frowned down at his phone as he pressed the button to call America. It rang once, twice before America picked up.

“Hey, Little Italy! I’m so glad you called! I’ve been totally bored, and I’ve had no one to talk to all day!”

Romano smirked and decided to tease America a little. He enjoyed teasing him, seeing the way his face would get all red as he shyly glanced away. If only he’d ever been able to kiss Alfred when he was acting like that. “So you were lonely without me, Fredo?”

“I… uh, I didn’t say that. No, ‘cause like I tried to call Mattie, but he was hanging out with the Netherlands and Cuba and was too busy to do anything with his own brother.” Savino just knew that Alfred was pouting and making sad puppy eyes at being “abandoned” by Canada for his friends.

Savino snorted. “Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Feli’s on a date with his macho potato right now.”

Alfred giggled. “Macho potato. I always thought it was so funny when you call him that. But I’ve never really understood why.”

Because I’m jealous, Savino thought. I’m jealous of his height and his muscles, and how he got them so easily. I’m jealous of how he was born to look so macho with hardly any effort, and I’ve had to work so hard just to get where I am right now.

Savino cleared his throat and tried to shove the dysphoric thoughts away. “I don’t fucking know. He likes potatoes, and he likes to pretend he’s Mr. Macho Man. Do I need another reason?”

“Nah, that makes sense, I guess. But you can be pretty macho too. I still remember that one time on Halloween you dressed up as the Grandma from Little Red Riding Hood.” America paused, and Romano could hear him letting out a long sigh over the phone line. “You were wearing a dress, but like in a manly way? I don’t know how to explain it, but it was macho of you. Very macho.”

Dio, Alfred sounded turned on just from the memory of it. Savino remembered that costume. Spain and Belgium had both been surprised when he volunteered to dress up as the Grandma in keeping with their Little Red Riding Hood theme, and Spain had even pulled him aside to make sure he was comfortable wearing a dress, given how much it had bothered him as a child. But Romano had explained it was different this time. He was dressing up as a character, not him, and it was just that one night. Romano had worn sunglasses and toted in a gun to feel more tough and manly, and no one mistook his for a little old woman. That costume now hung in the back of his closet, behind the suit separates and shirts that were his normal, daily attire. Savino had considered finding selling the costume on eBay or donating it to an organization that took women’s clothing since he’d probably never wear it again.

But if he could make Alfred sound like that again, maybe Savino would hold onto the dress.

“Vinny? You still there?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just drifted off for a minute there.” His hand moved through the air like he was sweeping cobwebs out of his mind.

“It’s cool. Oh! Speaking of costumes, Japan was talking about this awesome anime convention in Tokyo next month. Hopefully my boss will give me enough time off for me to go, because it sounds amazing.”

Romano smiled at America’s enthusiasm. “I hope so too.”

Alfred launched into an excited discussion of all the characters he might cosplay as at the convention if he got to go. Romano didn’t know many of them, and America was speaking so fast he couldn’t hear the names of all of them, but he listened attentively regardless.

This was nice, Romano reflected. His friendship with America was warm, safe, and comfortable. He could listen to Alfred talk about something that made him happy for hours on end. If he didn’t say anything, never brought up the real reason he had called Alfred, it could stay this way forever.

But the thing was that he would gladly listen to Alfred talk about something that made him happy for hours on end. That Alfred made him feel warm, safe, and comfortable just by being himself. He was so close to letting himself fall in love with the idiota, and there was only one thing stopping him.

Savino broke into the middle of Alfred’s sentence. “Alfredo, I need to tell you something.”

“Is it something bad? You sound really scared. Is someone hurting you? Whose ass do I have to kick?”

“No… no one is. I’m fine. This is just really hard for me to say.” It had been so difficult each time. With Spain, Veneziano, and Belgium, he didn’t have words for it, and he had to explain himself in painful, drawn out sentences that didn’t always reflect the truth he knew in his heart (like telling Belgium he had been born a girl, when he’d never really felt like one). He was afraid of being rejected by people who mattered to him, and he was afraid they might not even comprehend what he was trying to tell them. Now, Savino had words, but that didn’t make him any less scared of losing someone who mattered to him.

“What is it?” Alfred asked gently.

He took a deep breath, in and out, then bit the bullet. “I’m transgender.”

Savino tried not to panic in the stunned silence than followed. Luckily that silence only lasted a few seconds. “Oh, wow, that’s… that’s awesome!”

Romano laughed in relief. “It is?”

“Of course it is, dude! I am so proud of you, and I am so glad you felt comfortable enough to share that with me!”

Savino closed his eyes, feeling that last barrier to falling in love with Alfred giving way. “You made it easy for me to feel comfortable, caro.”

“Umm, can I ask you a question?” Alfred’s voice sounded hesitant and strained. “I promise it won’t be too weird.”

“Sure, I guess.” Savino frowned and brushed some imaginary dust off his knee. People could ask invasive questions when someone revealed they were trans, but that didn’t sound like what Alfred was planning to do.

“What kind of transgender person are you? Because I just called you dude, but only because I called you dude so many times before and didn’t know it was wrong. I’d never intentionally misgender someone right after they came out to me. That would be epically shitty of me.” Alfred seemed worried and apologetic.

“It’s okay. I’m a trans guy, so you can call me dude if you want to.”

“Thank God! For a second, I thought I’d fucked up really badly. He/him pronouns still okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What about your name, Savino? And the nicknames I give you, Vinny and Little Italy?”

Savino grinned. “Yes. And I don’t even know why you’re worried about Little Italy. That has nothing to do with my gender.”

Alfred chuckled. “I figured I should make sure, just in case.”

“I’m glad I decided to tell you today,” Romano said. “I wanted to tell you before, but I was scared. You didn’t seem like you’d have a bad reaction, but it’s a hard thing to talk about, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Alfred paused, and it felt like he was preparing to say something important. Savino waited until he was ready. “I’m uhh… queer, I guess? I’m not really sure what to call myself.”

Savino smiled sadly at the insecurity he could hear in Alfred’s voice. “That’s okay. For a long time, I didn’t know what to call myself either.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t have.” America sighed, and he sounded distressed. “It’s… fuck, I don’t even know how to explain this. For most of my life, I thought I was asexual. Well, actually, I thought I was broken and that there was something wrong with me, but I’m trying not to feel that way anymore.”

“There is nothing wrong with you.” Damn it, he wished America wasn’t on another continent so he could hug him. He could probably use a hug right now.

“But then there was this guy. This one amazing, wonderful, really special guy.” Alfred laughed softly, thinking about whatever lucky bastard he was obviously in love with, and Savino wondered who it might be. Lithuania? Japan? Prussia? South Korea? America was close to a lot of people.

Or maybe it was him. Maybe he was the lucky bastard.

“He’s the only person I’ve ever, umm, wanted that way,” America continued. “I don’t think it’s because he’s a guy, because I’m not into guys generally, and I’m not into girls either. But I do like the specific ways he is a guy, so maybe I’m gay? I don’t know.”

“That’s fine, Fredo. You don’t have to label yourself if you don’t want to.” No wonder America was so confused. He had only liked one person his entire life. That wasn’t much information to determine your sexuality on.

“I really appreciate you saying that, but I wish I could label myself. All my other friends seem to know what genders they’re into, and it feels kind of weird that I don’t.”

“Well, you seem to be fixated on this one particular person. Do you think anything would be different if the guy you told me about had been a girl instead?” Romano wanted to help America figure this out, since his uncertainty seemed to be bothering him. This was the only way Romano could think of.

America thought it over. “I guess I still don’t know,” he answered quietly. His volume was more typical of Canada than what Romano was used to from America. “When you told me you were transgender and I wasn’t sure how you were transgender, I was more worried about hurting you than if I’d still think you were hot as a girl.”

Savino teared up. He was the lucky bastard after all. “Alfredo, you…”

“Crap, I didn’t make things weird, did I?! We can totally go back and pretend I didn’t say anything. You know me, open mouth, insert foot.” Alfred laughed shakily.

“I don’t want to go back and pretend you didn’t say anything. You know what I really want, idiota? I want to kiss the hell out of you, like I’ve wanted to kiss you for years. But I’d have to get on a goddamn plane and be trapped in a tin can of death with hundreds of other passengers for several hours to make that happen.” Romano hated flying, but he was willing to consider it.

“Or I could fly to see you. I’ve got a private jet, so I wouldn’t have to waste time going through airport security.”

Romano grinned. “That works too.”

“Can I call you back in a little bit? I need to call my boss to make sure he can spare me for a few days while I fly out to see you.”

“Sure, tesoro. Talk to you soon.”

Alfred hung up the phone, and Savino set his phone down on the table in front of him. Coming out to America had gone much better than he could’ve expected. Romano was glad he didn’t have that burden on his shoulders anymore, and he was hoping America would call back in a few minutes to let him know his boss’s decision. If he couldn’t be spared for a few days and Romano’s boss wouldn’t let him go either, they would have to find some way around that. As far as Romano was concerned, he’d been waiting more than long enough as it was, and he wasn’t going to wait any longer than he had to.

[loominggaia]

“Okay New York Anon here. I’m really sorry about this chapter and regret writing it, the way i did. Thinking about it post production I’m realizing I made it come off as transphobic and tasteless. Angry guy was supposed to be a parody of the stereotypical sjw you’d see in a cringe comp violently going off on people for accidentally being mis gendered. Sorry if this train wreak of a chapter offends anyone.”

Anon, I’m so honored that you would spend the time to write fanfiction about my series. Not everyone is a perfect writer (I’m sure not), and personally I don’t believe that every piece of writing has to “set a good example” when it comes to politics and morality. The Looming Gaia series is for ages 18+, not preschoolers. I think adults have the mental capacity to differentiate between right and wrong and form their own opinions when they’re reading something (at least I hope they do), so I’m going to go ahead and post your story.

But I also care about my followers’ well-beings, so I’m going to compromise and: 1) Put this chapter under a cut so they don’t have to see it if they don’t want to. 2) Put a content warning ahead of it so they can decide if it’s worth the risk.

If anyone proceeds from here and gets offended, that’s 100% their own fault. I care a lot about writing an inclusive series that doesn’t alienate anyone based on race, gender, sexuality, and so on. At the same time, I’m hugely against censorship, so I always welcome fan content even if it’s off-color or I don’t personally agree with what it’s trying to say (barring anything illegal or blatantly hateful towards any group; i.e. glorification of pedophilia or abuse, calls to real-world violence, supporting real-world hate groups, etc. I will never accept that kind of content. If anyone comes in here praising nazi ideaologies or calling for action against LGBT folks, they can fuck right off.)

Readers, you’ve been thoroughly warned.

You can read the other parts here.

CONTENT WARNINGS: This fan content contains scenes of captivity, mental hospitals, depictions of violence, off-color depiction of a transgender individual, and (censored) racial slurs. While reading this, I personally didn’t get the impression that Anon meant any harm. It comes off as goofy, edgy, over-the-top satire to me, like something you’d see in an episode of South Park. Use your best judgement and proceed at your own risk.

(content under cut)

The crew had squatted in an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city that night. They already knew that only humans existed in this world and the reaction that lady had to seeing Elska only compounded the need for stealth. Their only plan right now being find Evan and get back to Gaia. That morning the crew split up, Alaine and Lukus where to continue searching for Evan, Issac and Jeimos where to go shopping, Elska would search the outskirts out of sight and Zeffer would search at night.

Evan was not mad at doctors for keeping him hear. He knew they where just doing their jobs and where concerned for him, since magic, elves and werewolves where fictional to them he understood he looked like a crazy person to them. That didn’t take away from how annoying it was to be trapped here in this stupid hospital. Knowing his crew was out their somewhere he knew he needed to leave and contact them somehow, he needed a escape plan.

He had two plans so far, plan A was to butter up the therapist into letting him go. Behave himself, take his meds, admit Gaia’s not real and say he’s feeling better. Hoping that upon seeing this drastic improvement the therapist will approve his release and he can finally go out and find his friends. Plan B was in case plan A failed. He would bust himself out of here and go on the run. He really didn’t want to hurt anybody, just slip out unnoticed, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be that easy.

Issac and Jeimos wandered around the city streets aimlessly in absolute awe of the sights and sounds all around them. Jeimos was getting more unnerved by not being capable of feeling any magic in their surroundings and was starting to wonder if it was just all the iron nearby or something more? Not being able to read any of the signs around them made trying to find a store to stock up on supplies difficult. Finding a food place with golden arch’s they go their as their first stop.

The pair enter this strange restaurant, the place smelling of grease and fry oil. Theirs quite the line so they just wait, taking a look around and absorbing the experience. They see a lot of interesting people and things from pictures of a clown holding a burger, groups of people on strange devices and messy families eating, an extremely obese man the two mistook for a troll horking down a massive pile of greasy food. Kids running in and out of a indoor jungle gym. This place had it all.

They waited their turn almost at the register, waiting behind a mother and her kids who kept changing her order every three seconds and trying to corral her kids. The cashier, a young man around issacs age but with a tired, dead look in his eyes that made him look as if he’s seen a war zone rang the lady up and ushers our pair to the register, asking in a flat, apathetic voice what they would like to order. Neither of them can read the electronic menu so using the numbers and pictures they order

The disgruntled cashier rang them up, totaling their order up to over $55! Him not being pleased by Jeimos’s constant questions and issac playfully asking for a kids toy. They try to pay, placing some gold coins on the counter. The cashier just looks at the coins then back to them, and, in an even more annoyed voice, told them they only take usd, not foreign currency. Telling them they can either pay in cash or card or just leave, the line was building up behind them and getting restless.

Jeimos trying to salvage this, nervously ask if theirs anything they can work out. Not wanting to have wasted their time. The cashier breaths deeply, saying he’ll get the manager, leaving the counter behind. The people in line are angrily starting at the two, Issac having a ball and Jeimos being highly uncomfortable with all the staring and swearing from them. The cashier returns with a fat, sleezy looking middle age man, presumably the manager. Him asking what’s going on here?

The cashier explains the situation in his most annoyed, apathetic tone with the manager glancing over the two. He repeats what the cashier told them, they only take usd and if they can’t pay then just leave, their clogging up the line. Jeimos try’s to explain this is all they have and is about to give up when Issac speaks up and tells them the coins are solid gold. That catch’s the managers attention, who in a greedy smile picks up the coins to check, seeing yes, their real gold!!!

His greedy smile grows wider and he tells them they can understand work something out! Snatching up the gold coins and apologizing for the inconvenience, talking about his no good employees and starts berating the cashier right in front of them for being “rude and unhelpful” to such fine paying customers! The cashier takes one look at his boss, takes off his hat and apron shoving them into his bosses hands and just says, completely monotone “I quit” and walks out without a second glance.

Meanwhile, Lukus and Alaine where walking down the streets through the massive crowds looking for any sign of Evan. Despite trying to keep a low profile they where gathering a lot of attention, walking through down town in medieval armor and brandishing weapons tends to do that. While walking outside a storefront Alaines eyes are caught by a beautiful blue dress, he being mesmerized by. “Nice cosplay” she hears suddenly from behind, Turing around to see a short, well dressed women behind her.

Alaine jut awkwardly thanks her for the compliment. The women also compliments Alaines scales, believing them to be a make up design for whatever cosplay she’s doing. The women introduces herself as Kimi and ask if she was looking at that dress in the window. Alaine answers yes and now both are both gawking at and gushing over the dresses beauty. Kimi complaining about the ludicrously high price tag but before their conversation can continue Lukus calls back to her, wondering where she is?

Alaine snaps back on into mission mode as Lukus returns. She apologizes to Kimi for leaving and tells her their looking for someone, asking if she’s seen a large blonde man with a metal leg. She says no but wishes them luck on trying to find their friend. The two head off once again search the city streets for Evan and once again have no luck, it didn’t help that a lot of people where stopping them, asking for photos of their “costumes” and asking what characters their dressed as?

After hours of searching and coming up empty handed both where rather hungry. Stopping at a cafe looking place to grab a quick bite. The place smelled of coffee and a sign outside had a picture of a twin tailed mermaid on a green background. As they where waiting in line observing all the weird people around them they saw a familiar face ahead of them, Kimi. She had a coffee in her hands and was thanking the barista but didn’t see them. Neither did she see the weird guy she bumped into.

The guy she bumped into looked ridiculous to Alaine and Lukus, having fluorescent pink cloths, big goofy glasses and a oversized beanie I’ve this colorful hair. The guy yelled at her to watch where she’s going, she apologized but then she said sir. The pair could already sense this guy would be trouble as the moment kimi said “sir” it looked as if the weird guys was about to explode. SIR!!! He screamed, grabbing everyone’s attention, his face beat red and eyes bulging in rage!

To say he exploded on Kimi would be an understatement, he started loudly screaming at her “ did you just misgender me”!!! The screaming got even louder as he started listing off a bunch of gibberish and loudly insulting her, calling her sexist, anti-lgbt, telling to kill herself and die in a hole. His screaming getting more incoherent and seemed to be literally frothing at the mouth. Kimi was just backing away, scared and trying to apologize but the guy just kept screaming over her plea’s.

(Feel like I need to put a trigger warning for this one so here it is. Trigger warning for Lukus and Alaine getting in a fight with ‘that kind’ of trans guy, the kind responsible for all the negative stereotypes about the trans community. And Issac being called a racial slur. You have been warned.)

Alaine and Lukus stepped in to stop this dude from hurting Kimi. He seriously looked like he was about ready to punch her. They stepped in and tried to diffuse the situation, putting themselves between kimi and the angry man. They try to explain to him that how could she have known he wasn’t cis, that’s it’s an honest mistake and to let it slide. That only seemed to pissed him off more as he threw a drink in Alaines face and shoved Lukus in anger, wrong move.

Just as Lukus was winding up a punch Alaine beat him to it, knocking the asshole clean to the floor in a single strike. He went down like a sack of potato’s and was laying out cold. The three just left, taking Kimi and leaving. Alaine was fuming but if she where calmer she would have noticed it was water he threw at her, and would have also noticed she didn’t flop to the floor in her aquatic form, she was too pissed off the notices.

Kimi thanks them for saving her from that crazy guy and try’s frantically to explains to them she’s pro-lgbt, always try’s to respect peoples pronouns and is actually a lesbian herself. They cut her off, she didn’t need to explain herself to them. On the flip side Jeimos and Issac are carrying back their huge bags of fast food back to the groups hideout waiting to hear any news. Issac see’s a downed old man and the street and rushed to help him.

Just as Issac was reaching out to help him the old man swats him away, screaming at him. “Keep your hands off me you filthy N@$$#r”! Heads turn and people stop dead in their tracks in pure shock at what they just heard. Issac and Jeimos had no idea what that weird word meant but it guessing by the crowds reaction, it was really bad. The old man gets himself up and goes off on a racist rant, accusing Issac of trying to steal from him, calling all his “kind” low-life scum and just screams at him.

*

First of all Anon, your depiction of working at a fast food place is a whole-ass mood and I felt it lol. I’m interested to see what role this character Kimi plays! Maybe she has ties to the hospital? Seeing the crew clash with real-world culture is very interesting. I’m enjoying their adventure so far. TO BE CONTINUED…?

[thelostgirl21]

Pansexuality, Bisexuality, Asexuality, and experiencing sexual attraction towards a person regardless of gender...

Alright you guys, here’s the thing.

I’m seeing a lot of hurt, resentment, and misunderstanding in the pansexuality tag, coming primarily from pansexuals and bisexuals alike, and I think it’s high time we sat the fuck down together, and had a good heart-to-heart as a community.

Actually, I’m inviting asexuals to the table, too, because they happen to be much closer to a specific subset of pansexuality than a lot of people seem to believe, and might be able to offer valuable input and insight into that whole debate.

First, I know there are a lot of different views, versions, and definitions of what pansexuality is. Some identify as being sexually attracted to all gender expressions, others as being sexually attracted to people regardless of gender.

Here, I’m going to address what “regardless of gender” actually entails in terms of how one experiences sexual attraction towards another person without regard to their gender.  This is the definition of pansexuality that I wish to delve into and explore, so hopefully we may gain a broader perspective of why some of us feel that having a distinct space within the LGBTQ+ community matters.

First off, here is an especially important concept that does not seem to be well integrated for many people:

What orients human sexuality is not restricted to gender.

I repeat: What orients human sexuality is not restricted to gender.

What does it mean?

This means that every human being that do experience sexual attraction towards another human being does so according to a huge multitude of personal criteria that they perceive in another human being that - when combined together – trigger that sense of sexual attraction, and lets us perceive a person as being sexually attractive.

When we say that someone is "hot" and that “we want them"; usually, it is because there is that *special something* about the way they act, the way they move, the depth of their voice, the sound of their laughter, the mischievous glint in their eyes, their overall projected personality, how they carry themselves, their height, their weight, their confidence, their vulnerability, the shape of their forehead, their nose, the texture of their hair, the roundness of their buttocks, the culture they belong to, their intellect, etc., that is perceived as being sexually desirable traits to be found in a “mate”.

Some of these perceived traits tend to carry more weight, and thus will be taken into consideration, more than others.

However, assuming we are not asexual, we all sexually respond to an array of perceived physical, emotional, psychological, spiritual, intellectual, etc. features we see in another human being that makes us go "Yup! I wanna have the sex with you!"

For the vast majority of people, gender tends to be what they assess first - something that is significant enough to orient their sexuality - or that is, at least, perceived as being significant in some way.

For example, they will see a woman with luscious red hair, a gorgeous smile, an aura of authenticity, a resonant laughter, a soft, curvy body, freckles, a shy gaze yet a very firm and assured handshake, and their body will respond to said woman in a way that awakens some desire in them.  They will want to have sex with that woman, and they will typically appreciate that she is a woman while doing so.

Some will have a preference for cisgender or transgender women, but for the purpose of the issues I’m wishing to bring into light, please always assume that whenever I am referring to a woman or a man, this includes both cisgender and transgender individuals.

This is crucially important. Because I’ve sadly seen many people claiming that they are “pansexual” because they like every gender, even “transgenders”, while arguing that bisexuals only like “cisgender men and women”, and that makes absolutely no sense.

By doing so, you are pretending that your sexuality is “more inclusive” towards multiple gender identities, while at the same time pretending that, in order to be bisexual, a transgender woman would need to feel no sexual attraction towards other transgender men, and/or women of her own gender.

You are unwittingly relegating transgender individuals to the role of being someone else’s object of sexual desire, while not giving them the role of being the ones expressing that desire in how they identify.

The gender is “woman”.  The gender is “man”.  The gender is “non-binary”.  The (absence of) gender is “agender”.

You absolutely have the right to be exclusively sexually oriented towards men whose assigned gender at birth (usually determined by their genitalia) matches their gender identity.  

But that is a personal preference of yours in “how you like your men”.  

I know quite a few girls that are not sexually attracted to men that are smaller than themselves, and yet they are still heterosexual or bisexual.

Preferring someone whose gender matches the gender they were assigned at birth based on their genitalia is nothing wrong.

Pretending that transgender men and women should be excluded from the definition of bisexuality based on being transgender, is.  It reflects a failure to acknowledge that transgender men and women are the same gender as cisgender men and women.

So, everywhere you see me refer to “men” and “women”, please do assume that it includes both cisgender and transgender individuals.  Whenever I am talking about a specific interest in certain types of genitalia (that are associated with the gender assigned at birth vs the gender identity of a person), I will make that precision.

Otherwise men and women are men and women, period.

That being said, to go back to the notion of all the different variables influencing our sexual orientation, I believe that in order to properly understand the nuance found in pansexuality, it would be helpful to take a good look at an asexual’s experience of their own sexuality.

When people hear “asexual”, they often make the mistake of assuming that everyone that identifies as asexual are sex-repulsed, or that they can’t find pleasure in the act of sharing sex with a partner, romantic or otherwise.

All that asexuality means, really, is that the person is not sexually attracted towards other people.

It says absolutely nothing about an inability to experience sexual arousal and enjoy an active, satisfying sex life.

What it tells you, is that other people won’t be what will trigger the desire in them to have sex.

Let’s say you love ice cream!

Most of the time, you eat ice cream on your own, because you crave how good it tastes and enjoy eating ice cream for the ice cream itself.

It relaxes you, makes you feel good, and is very self-gratifying.

The sight of another person holding an ice cream cone, or even explicitly offering it to you, does not make you want to eat ice cream, however.  Your cravings for ice cream happen totally independently of how other people behave about ice cream, about you, and are not tied to the social aspect of enjoying ice cream with a partner.

You’re fine managing your ice cream eating habits on your own.

HOWEVER, sometimes, when you are with someone you strongly care about and trust, even if their presence changes nothing to your own impulses to desire eating ice cream, since eating ice cream *is* something you find personally pleasurable, you may find yourself wanting to share that pleasure with them.

You might even be open to spoon-feeding them the ice cream yourself.  Not because you are instinctively driven to eat ice cream in the company of another and share it, but because you do enjoy the whole aspect of togetherness, and the strengthening of social bonds that eating ice cream together brings you.

For sexually active asexuals, “sharing sex” with someone is often something that they will willingly engage in because they are very receptive to the feelings of intimacy and togetherness that engaging in sexual activity with someone they deeply care about - or might even be romantically engaged with - brings them.

It becomes something that is sought as a way to reinforce such social bonds, rather than an instinctive drive to have sex based on a desire that is triggered by a partner.

A human being can desire to bond with another person through something that leaves them as vulnerable and open as sexual intercourse, without perceiving the person they choose to have sex with as being sexually desirable themselves.

What will happen is that they will find ways to sexually arouse themselves through tactile stimulation, certain thoughts, and/or other ways – often rather unique to them – that they have experienced with, and they know can trigger a state of sexual arousal in themselves.

Once sexually aroused, they are free to enjoy the sexual activity in the company of someone that they care about.

In the context of a romantic relationship, there is also the aspect of empathy, of desiring to make someone they love feel good, and happy.

But the acceptance and understanding that an asexual does not sexually desire their romantic partner, and thus respecting their own limits and comfort zone in terms of how much sex they are willing and comfortable to share with a sexual partner, is absolutely crucial.

They do get something out of it, too (i.e. it’s not JUST about making the other feel better).  But the drive to “eat ice cream together” may be less than in someone that sees “ice cream” in someone else’s hands, and can barely contain their excitement and need to eat some.

Some asexuals do not ever feel comfortable having sex with other people, and that is perfectly ok, too.

But being asexual, in the context of a sexual orientation, doesn’t automatically mean being unable to sexually engage in sexual activity with others, being repulsed by it, and/or finding nothing rewarding in having sex with others.

It just means that other people are not something that orients their sexuality, and that they don’t trigger anything in them that makes them want to have sex with them.  At least, not without some secondary objective (ex: fostering a greater sense of emotional intimacy) in mind.

An asexual’s sexuality can be expressed regardless of the person.

If you can understand that, then you might understand how being pansexual feels.

As a pansexual, I experience sexual attraction to a person, but said attraction occurs regardless of that person’s gender.

I do not find women sexually desirable. I do not find men sexually desirable. I do not find non-binary gender identities sexually desirable.  I do not find agenders sexually desirable.

I can listen to a bisexual trying to explain to me what they find sexually exciting about girls, boys, agenders, etc. using terms to describe certain gendered traits.

Except I am unable to personally relate to any of the feelings they are describing.

Not because I am gender blind.

I do see your gender.

Just like I do see how tall you are, what your body type is, your hair color, your nose, etc.

And yet, people do not typically go around insisting on defining sexual orientation in terms of:

- Heterosexuality: being sexually attracted to people with different hair colors than yours.

- Homosexuality: being sexually attracted to people with the same hair color as you.

- Bisexuality: being sexually attracted to both people with different hair colors than your own (experiencing patterns of heterosexual attraction), and the same hair color as you (experiencing patterns of homosexual attraction).

- Pansexuality: Being sexually attracted to a person regardless of hair color, without experiencing any patterns of either heterosexual or homosexual attraction.

They do, however, keep insisting that another human being’s gender is one of the many traits they have - that may or may not outwardly be express - that should make you feel “something” about them.

Gender is supposed to be one of the key factors of sexual attraction that orients one’s sexuality.

But that is not always the case.  My body, my sexual impulses, instincts, or drive - no matter how you wish to call it - do not respond to gender.

And insisting that I should find anything about one being a woman, a man, or otherwise sexually attractive quickly becomes irritating.

If I were to live in a world where hair color was perceived as playing an important role in someone’s likeliness to find a person sexually attractive – and people were persecuted and discrimated against based on the hair colors they found themselves sexually attracted to – I wouldn’t feel it would be any different than the sexual orientation system we’re stuck in right now.

In terms of the genitalia that is traditionally associated with the gender assigned at birth, or even reassigned genitalia, I do not find anything remotely sexually interesting about vaginas and penises (and all their variations).

Yes, they are physically there, I can use them in the context of sexual intercourse, but they don’t offer anything more stimulating or interesting to me than what could be achieved with the use of fingers, a tongue, and/or especially toys (toys are notoriously difficult to beat in terms of functionality and versatility, actually).

Your genitalia is not about me, but about you.  I do not find your penis or your vagina sexually attractive.  They are body parts that look rather weird and funny to me (I’m including my own vagina in that assessment), and I don’t get what’s supposed to be sexually stimulating or interesting about having the opportunity to see or interact with that part of someone else’s body.

I’m not repulsed by your genitalia, but they don’t inspire me to have sex, either…

…UNTIL I’ve been having sex with the same partner for long enough that I manage to generate mental associations between your vagina or your penis with other aspects of yourself that do trigger some sexual desires in me.

My sexuality is expressed in a way that is highly empathetic.  So, as soon as I’m starting to truly bond with a partner and develop a long term connection with them, their own expression of sexual arousal will be an extremely strong trigger in terms of how sexually attractive they will look to me.

When I see my partner’s penis, it’s not the penis itself that I see.  The image that will instinctively and automatically pop into mind is the way his body lightly trembles under my touch, it’s the delicious little quiet moans and sighs escaping his lips, it’s the hungry looks he gives me, it’s the intimacy and the vulnerability behind each action, it’s the light sheen of sweat covering his skin, the rise and fall of the chest as his breath quickens, the pulse on his neck beating increasingly fast.

Every penis in the world looks to me like an oversized big toe, and they are totally irrelevant to my sexual interests, except for being “instruments” that I can play to make my partner experience heightened sensations, and bring them sexual satisfaction…  

And I can play with every instrument of origin and/or with every reassigned instrument… or none at all!  If you’d rather use toys that you control by yourself, and have me interact with the rest of your body during sexual intercourse, instead, it’s 100% fine by me.  I don’t need to get in direct contact with your genitalia to find sexual intercourse sexually satisfying, either.

As long as it remains something interactive we are sharing together, my pansexual arse will be perfectly fine!

But there comes a point where my partner’s penis no longer quite looks like “just a penis” to me - it looks like the whole experience of having sex with him.

And I’m sexually attracted to him.  I’m sexually attracted to elements of his personality, yes, but also to his body.

A bubble butt remains a bubble butt, regardless of the gender it belongs to.  And bubble butts are very sexually attractive.

You’ve got the bubble butt?  In my own personal list of personal features likely to make me perceive you as sexually attractive, bubble butts rate very high.

So, while my partner’s penis does not orient my sexuality, and I could have done with or without.  My sexual attraction towards other aspects of him (oh yeah, he’s got the bubble butt, alright!) allows me to embrace that part of his body as something “more” than “just a weird looking big toe that inflate and deflate”.

The way I feel about vaginas is pretty much the same. I don’t find them attractive or interesting, but since I’m interested in making my sexual partner feel good, too, over time I’ll learn to develop an appreciation for my own partner’s vagina.

Therefore, trying to argue that “biological sex” or genitalia should be perceived as “mattering more” or being “more relevant” in the context of describing how we experience sexual attraction towards a person than one’s hair color – and therefore, I should pay more attention to something that is traditionally being used to define gender upon birth than someone being a ginger – does not work with a pansexual that identifies as such, because they experience sexual attraction regardless of gender.

I’m not repulsed by your genitalia, I don’t desire it. What I need, what I want, is having someone close to me I can kiss, caress the curve of the small of their back, run my fingers through their hair, bite their shoulders, grab that bubble butt with both hands and feel those muscles offer some resistance against my fingers, etc.

A person’s overall body is what is perceived as being sexually attractive and will orient my sexuality.  Their genitalia, or even specific gendered traits associated with their body, not so much.

Which brings me to the infamous question pansexuals keep being asked over, and over again every time they try to tell someone that they are sexually attracted to a person regardless of gender.

“Oh, so who they are, their personality, matters to you more than what’s between their legs or how they look?”

*NOISE OF RECORD BEING SCRATCHED. *

Alright, hold on.  Are you telling me that if you remove “gender” from the equation, regarding what we can find attractive in another person, the only thing you’re left with becomes some utterly disembodied entity that is “all hearts and no parts”?

Are you telling me that gender is something so big, so powerful, that someone’s whole physical appearance become entirely swallowed by it?

Are you saying that gender has absolutely no bearings, or influence over one’s emotional, intellectual, spiritual, psychological traits?

If that is, indeed, what you are saying, how is it, then, that society keeps yapping about how men and women are supposed to think, what they are supposed to wear, what they are meant to like and dislike, what personality traits they are supposed to have and/or are more socially appropriate to express, and how their relationship dynamic is supposed to be build in terms of how male and females relate to each other?

Socially, I think we can agree that talks of gender tend to be quite prevalent, and generally, gender is an aspect being perceived as coloring every single aspect of a person…

And yet, if I’m telling you that I can be sexually attracted to a person regardless of their gender, are you really telling me that the only place where, suddenly, gender seems to be important, is in terms of what’s between the person’s leg, and how they physically LOOK?!

How does that work for you?

So, here is what appears to get really confusing for both the pansexual being asked the question, and the one asking it.

People that have a sexual orientation towards one, or even all genders, will tend to find aspects of someone being a woman, a man, non-binary, or even agender sexually attractive.

They may love all forms of possible genders expressions out there, and maybe even love them all equally and for the same overall reasons.  Their body may experience sexual attraction towards men, women, and non-binary genders equally.

But there’s something about one’s gender they still perceive as being relevant and “hot” and they will notice as being sexually desirable in relation to gender.

They can read about what’s great about dating women, men, and non-binary (assuming they are also romantically attracted to certain people), or having sex with them, and personally connect with those feelings.

They might find penises and vaginas to be sexually interesting and stimulating, and the direct contact with a sexual partner’s genitalia will be something they enjoy, cherish, and naturally seek as being a significant pleasurable part of their sexual intercourse.

Their sexual instincts, their sexual drive, etc. does respond to the gender of their sexual partner.

A pansexual that experiences sexual attraction to a person regardless of gender does not experience such a response.

And, for those of you that are sexually sensitive to other people’s gender, it can apparently seem rather inconceivable that you can be totally dispassionate about gender when it comes to being in a sexual relationship with a partner.

Whether we are talking about a quick “one-night stand” type of encounter, or in the context of a long-term romance, gender is utterly irrelevant, and not an aspect of the other person that triggers any feelings of sexual attraction for pansexuals.

It doesn’t orient our sexuality.  We have no sexual orientation and have never known what finding women, men, or other gender expressions sexually attractive feels like.

So, as we are saying “we experience sexual attraction to a person regardless of gender”, people that like one or many genders out there will naturally go for what feels familiar to them.

They try to understand how that can even be possible.

For many, especially those that feel strongly about having sex with specific gender(s), the key component associated with a person’s gender seems to be the genitalia and/or other physical traits that tend to be gendered in their eyes.

A woman will tend to have a body that is less muscular, a higher pitched voice, wear their hair longer more often, they have enlarged breasts and nipples, etc.

There is thus a natural association between “how someone looks” and “gender”.

To the pansexual, while they may “see” the elements of physical femininity and masculinity of a person’s body, their brain does not respond to those perceived “gendered traits” as something exciting or desirable.

It feels neutral, irrelevant, we do not understand why we are supposed to care about the difference between massaging a woman’s breast or a man’s chest within the context of sexual intercourse, or how it’s supposed to be really different.

Ok, yeah, there is a difference, but in terms of how my instincts prioritize that difference, it’s the same as gazing into a pair of green rather than blue eyes.

That difference is so trivial to me that it is not worth paying attention to it during sexual intercourse.

Gendered traits are not where I find my sexual inspiration.  The physical traits I do find sexually attractive tend to be perceived as being very gender neutral in the context of sexual attraction, even if most people consider them “gendered”.

Like your penis, your vagina, or any reassigned genitalia, I can learn to develop an appreciation for your masculinity, your femininity, your gender-fluidity, etc. as we go deeper into the sexual relationship and it has the opportunity to evolve.

I may not give a damn about gender sexually or even romantically, but I care about you.

I care about making you feel valued, seen, and wanted for everything you are.

I may not be sexually or even romantically attracted to every single aspect of yourself, but just like an asexual might still take the time to “share the sex” with their partner because they appreciate the feeling of intimacy and togetherness, because they want them to feel good, because finding the right balance between their own needs and their partner’s needs matter (always withing their own personal limits and comfort), and thus, they will find their own “payoff” in the pleasure in watching someone they care about enjoy themselves in such a way…

Well, I’ll gladly worship at the altar of your femininity, and make a conscious effort to develop an appreciation for the gendered aspect of who you are in the context of sexual intercourse, so I can help fulfil that particular aspect of your needs. Whereas, as I stated earlier, someone that has a sexual orientation will see a woman with luscious red hair, a gorgeous smile, an aura of authenticity, a resonant laughter, a soft, curvy body, freckles, a shy gaze yet a very firm and assured handshake, and their body will respond to said woman in a way that awakens some desire in them.  And, in response, they will want to date that woman and they will instinctively appreciate that she is a woman.

A pansexual will see a person with luscious red hair, a gorgeous smile, an aura of authenticity, a resonant laughter, a soft, curvy body, freckles, a woman gender, a shy gaze yet a very firm and assured handshake, and their body will respond to said person in a way that awakens some desire in them.  And, in response, they will want to date that person and they will instinctively appreciate who she is, but without necessarily putting any emphasis on the gendered aspects of her identity.

However, since we do see gender, we can develop an acquired appreciation for it.  It’s so far down the list of things we may consider in a partner that it does not orient our sexuality.

That appreciation will not be instinctive, but a taste we will learn to acquire and manifest for the benefit of our partner and the health of the whole relationship.

Gender may be but one of the many parts of your identity, and carry no more weight when it comes to choosing a partner than your hair color from my perspective, if that is a part of your identity you feel strongly about and tend to put at the forefront, I will thus make it one of my priorities within our relationship, too.

I can’t control how my sexual instincts respond to you.  I can’t “make myself” be sexually attracted to you being a woman.  But I can easily appreciate the aesthetic beauty of your womanhood, learn to appreciate all the aspect of being a woman that matter to you, and regularly reflect those aspects back to you in a positive, nurturing, appreciative manner.

And my compliments will be sincere, whether I find those aspects sexually arousing or not.

I experience my sexuality in a way that is one “person” away from being asexual.

So I really can’t blame those that do experience heterosexual (attracted to a gender not their own), homosexual (attracted to their own gender), or both heterosexual and homosexual patterns of sexual attraction to be confused as to what “regardless of gender” really means for some of us, and thus jump to conclusions.

“Oh, so who they are, their personality, matters to you more than what’s between their legs or how they look?”

That’s simply their way of expressing “I don’t get it.  Doesn’t everyone have a gender identity?  How can you sexually disregard gender in the way someone looks while still finding them sexually attractive?”

The mistake they are making, in asking this question, is disregarding all the other aspects of a person that plays a role in their own sexual orientation, too.

Why, as a straight woman, aren’t they trying to get into the pants of every person they perceive as being male or that identify as men?

Gender may be one of the key factors orienting their sexuality, but they also have preferences in nose shapes, height, weight, voices, accents, attitudes, etc. that will orient their sexual desires.

Our inability to feel anything attractive about a prospective partner’s gender, doesn’t remove our ability to experience attraction towards other aspects of their physicality that we find sexually attractive.

Truth is, I’m pretty sure the vast majority of straight, gays, lesbians, and bisexuals, among others, naturally prioritize personality and the overall “vibe” they get from a person over their physical looks and what’s between their legs.

But, just as someone who is gay may have no idea what being pansexual feels like…  A pansexual has no clue how being heterosexual, homosexual, or bisexual (in the sense of being attracted towards own gender and other genders) truly feels like.

We don’t relate to gender in the same way other people seem to.  At least, when I hear them talk about gender and describe how they feel about men, women, and others, that feeling doesn’t seem to match my own experience.

So, being continuously asked to define our sexual orientation in terms of gender attraction – when it has no bearings on our sexuality – at some point, might end up being perceived as some form of harassment and micro-aggression for us, especially when we are asked to “justify” how that can even be possible, and have people argue that because everyone has a gender, then we are all attracted to their gender by default.

(Yeah, everyone has a thumb by default, and no one is forcing me to define my sexual orientation by the fact that I’m sexually attracted to their thumb.)

So, imagine our relief when, suddenly, the focus is driven AWAY from people’s gender.

When we hear “Oh, so who they are, their personality, matters to you more than what’s between their legs or how they look?”, we are suddenly being offered the possibility of being sexually oriented towards a person based on something that is not defined by the one asking the question as “predominantly gendered”.

We very naïvely assume that, if the other person is asking the question, it is because heterosexuals, homosexuals, and bisexuals feel that a person’s looks, and/or their genitalia, typically matter more to them in terms of how they experience sexual attraction, than the non-gendered aspects of their personality.

If you ask someone who is straight “Does someone’s personality, who they are at the core, matters more to you than what’s between their legs or how they look?”

They may very well answer “yes”, because they will only think about the current context of that question, and find truth in it.

If you ask me, as a pansexual, the same question, my first instinct is going to be to also answer “yes”.

However, if I take a moment to fully analyse that question, the record goes to a scratching halt!

Not every pansexual has the required amount of patience and personal insight to dissect everything that is sadly implied by such a loaded question, and will instead focus on the overwhelming relief of having finally found an “out” from a system that doesn’t fit them.

They will embrace that suggestion, think that this sets them apart from those who do respond to gender as part of their sexual orientation, integrate it as a key concept of their whole sexuality, and start proudly declaring that they are pansexual, because they are sexually attracted to “hearts, not parts!”

Doing so, they sadly attract the ire of straight, gays, lesbians, and bisexuals that FINALLY have their own moment of epiphany and go “Wait a minute?!  Are you saying that all that matters to us in a sexual partner is what’s between their legs?! Are you saying we are all physically-obsessed whores that only care about looks without giving a damn about personality?!  I may be bisexual, but if a man has an awful personality, there’s no way I’m going to be having sex with him!  Get off your high horse, you pompous, higher-than-thou pricks!”

Suddenly, they all seem to forget where the suggestion that we were caring more about “hearts” than “parts” came from in the first place, and then resent us for it!

Yes, it is absolutely wrong to define our sexual orientation in such a way!

“Hearts, not parts” has nothing to do with pansexuality.

But just like I won’t blame people with a gender-based sexual orientation to ask the wrong types of question based on their own confusion and inability to spontaneously relate to what being pansexual feels like; I won’t blame pansexuals for having made the mistake of appropriating that slogan to try to escape a system that suffocates them, without realizing that they’ve failed to clearly help them understand what pansexuality is like.

I will correct them, and try to make fellow pansexuals understand that, while “hearts, not parts” may reflect something they consider as being an important aspect of their own sexuality, it is not what sets them apart from people with a gender-based sexual orientation.

Pansexuals like parts just as much, or as little, as people identifying as straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, etc.  

How much importance we instinctively assign to the physical appearance of the person we are sexually attracted to does not say anything about how we respond (or, more accurately, fail to respond to) gender.

All we are saying is how physically vs mentally and/or emotionally we tend to be sexually orientated towards prospective sexual partners.  This is an aspect of one’s sexuality that can be applied to all, regardless of how they feel about gender.

Even in the context of demisexuality, parts usually do matter.  Experiencing secondary sexual attraction, only after a strong emotional bond has been formed with someone, won’t remove the aspect that the demisexual then needs to experience a sense of secondary sexual attraction towards the other person.

If a demisexual wanted to have sex with every single person they emotionally connected with first, they’d be unable to form any sincere, trusting, platonic friendships.

Not all demisexuals are interested in being in a romantic relationship, either.  They can be sexually attracted to a very close friend they would trust with everything they are, yet don’t experience any desire to develop a romance with or become sexually exclusive.

The nature of the strong emotional bond that occurs before secondary sexual attraction comes into play can greatly vary from one demisexual to the next.

In any case, prioritizing a person’s personality over looks in one’s relationship is something that can occur regardless of sexual orientation and even romantic inclinations.  It does not set pansexuality apart.

What sets us apart, is our inability to perceive gender as something of any significant influence in the way we experience sexual attraction towards another person.

A pansexual grows up in a world that uses a classification system to define sexual orientation that feels confusing to them.

They see people around them getting all excited about a boy or a girl in school, expressing what they feel is attractive about them being a boy or a girl (back when I was a teenager, the binary was extremely predominant, so at least that aspect is slowly changing) without feeling any inclination either way, or even understanding what parts of them being male or female is supposed to be sexually (and/or romantically) exciting.

They will learn to parrot what they hear from others, to use other people’s terms to describe their own sexual attraction. They are so convinced that everyone MUST have a sexual orientation that they will be actively (and sometimes, desperately) looking for it.

They may identify as straight given they found themselves sexually attracted to someone who was a girl, and thus deduce that must mean that they “like girls”.

But then, another person they feel sexually attracted to a year later happens to be a boy…  So, are they bisexual instead?

Except, they no longer feel anything significant about girls in general…  Does that mean they are gay?

Then, they meet another girl, and feel sexually attracted towards her – same they did with the first girl.

Were they really bisexuals, but have just “forgotten” about it?

Except now that they are attracted to that girl, they feel nothing remarkable about boys in general, either…

What the hell is going on?!

We find people sexually attractive typically on a case by case scenario.  We know, deep down, we aren’t opposed to having sex with people from any gender, but we don’t find members of that gender sexually attractive per say.

If we look at our history, we will find people from all gender identities that we may have been sexually attracted to at different points of our lives, but we never feel like their gender mattered more than the color of their eyes or that there was a sense of attraction that came from how we perceived or acknowledged their gender.

Except we are constantly told about how great and desirable women, men, and other genders are.  

But no matter how much efforts to make to “feel something” about people’s gender, we don’t get it.

With time, we tend to feel like an alien within society and sadly, even among the LGBTQ+ community.  We internalize the way we process our sexual orientation and our lack of gender orientation as meaning there is something wrong with us, that we are “missing parts” that should be there, because every definition we see regarding sexual orientation fails to clearly reflect our reality.

We either adapt by constantly changing labels to describe our sexual orientation, depending on the gender of whoever we are in a relationship with at the time.

We end up giving in, and calling ourselves “bisexuals”, although the “regardless of gender” aspect of bisexuality tends to be absent / underrepresented within that community, and we are still surrounded by people gushing about liking men, women, non-binary, etc.

Or, we often end up making the choice of abandoning the system, no longer caring about whatever label people ask us to identify as, and often refusing to offer any clear or definitive answer to questions we feel don’t apply to the way we experience our sexuality in the first place.

If it appears I’m never quite offering you a satisfying answer, or you can’t accept I don’t feel anything special about the gender of a prospective mate, what else am I supposed to tell you?

When I’m not taking the time to really get into all those nuances and details, I do say I find men, women, non-binary people sexually attractive regardless of their gender, because I am able acknowledge that someone is a man, a woman, or elsewhere on the gender spectrum.

Society talks about people in terms of “men”, “women”, “bigender”, etc.  So, it makes sense to use the same language.  

Except, by doing so, I’m always referring to the fact that I can be sexually attracted to people that happen to be of all gender identities; and not expressing that I’m sexually attracted to them with regards of the gender identity they have, or what I see about themselves that I perceive to be feminine, masculine or otherwise.  Be those traits physical, intellectual, emotional, spiritual, etc.

Yeah, I’m sexually attracted to men, women, non-binary and agender people in the context where we are using those words to describe their gender identity; but it has nothing to do with my own instinctive sexual response to their gender.

I’m sexually attracted to brunettes, blondes, gingers, and other hair colors as well in the context where we are using those words to describe their hair color, and not my own instinctive sexual response to their hair color.

Oddly enough, I experience my sexuality in a way that is “inclusive” of all genders out there…  but only because my sexual impulses are instinctively rejecting gender as an aspect that influences my sexual desires towards them, and making me likely to want to get into a sexual relationship with them. Bisexuals usually tend to be openly appreciative of all forms of gender expressions out there, and welcome them with open arms.

Pansexuals will just want to have sex with you regardless.

While saying this, however, I’m aware that there may be plenty of bisexuals that identify with what I’ve explained since the beginning, and to them, this is also what their bisexuality means.

Maybe they don’t feel irritated by the way people keep insisting that it doesn’t matter whether one identifies as “sexually attracted to all genders” or “sexually attracted regardless of gender”.

Perhaps they decided that they were fine with adopting a label that was “close enough”, so that others would be satisfied with the answer, and leave them be.

Or maybe they got lucky, and found other bisexuals that clearly explained to them that it was totally normal to feel like gender was totally irrelevant to how you experience sexual attraction towards another human being.

But some of us did experience a lot of doubt and confusion that ended up taking a certain toll on our self-esteem (at least, for a while).

Some of us do feel more strongly about truly being seen for who we are: people without a sexual orientation with regards to gender.

Some of us also feel a special kinship with the asexual community, whose asexuality will sadly often be mocked, invalidated, or heavily questioned as soon as they choose to engage in sexual activity with a romantic partner.

I’m fully open to recognizing that the bisexual label, historically, might have been designed with the idea of including people that experience sexual attraction towards another human being regardless of gender into it.

But how we define sexual orientation and human sexuality, and the vocabulary used to describe it, is bound to keep evolving over the next few years as people start recognizing and identifying with complexities that weren’t as easily recognized, expressed, and accepted before.

It took me about 30 years to discover that there were other people out there that didn’t have any sexual orientation towards other people’s genders, and could be sexually attracted to them regardless.

I sincerely would have benefited from having had access to other pansexuals; people that, perhaps, would have been able to put words on what I was experiencing, help me understand and sort out my feelings, and figure out why being asked which gender I found sexually attractive tended to fill me with confusion and a sense of disconnectedness from the people around me.

I would have appreciated to have people describe sexual attraction and orientation to me in broader terms that put little to no focus on gender, and helped me explore my personal preferences in a more gender-neutral way.

What I’m trying to explain to you, is that I don’t feel that there is anything more inclusive, noble, or great about identifying as being pansexual, especially not as opposed to bisexuality.

But what I am trying to convey, name, and identify, is a very specific need that I had, growing up as a queer child, that sadly I feel hasn’t been addressed and properly met by the LGBTQ+ and the bisexual community back then.

It wasn’t because there were any ill-intents from bisexuals that would talk to me about how they found men and women, for example, sexually attractive…

It wasn’t because people were trying to be unwelcoming or deny my own experience.

It was simply because I did not have the words, the maturity, and the level of personal insight back then to futher explain what I was feeling.

I could not tell you why listening to bisexuals describe the way they were sexually attracted to multiple gender identities was generating more distress than it was helping me understand myself.

I could not tell you why I felt like my “sexual interests” kept changing according to whoever I liked at the time I liked them.

I could not properly realize that sexual orientation went WAY beyond gender, and that you could find a bubble butt to be a sexually attractive feature on someone, without giving a damn about any perceived male or female characteristics of said bubble butt, or the gender identity of the person you were sexually attracted to.

What I’m trying to say, today, now that I’ve had time to put all of this into words, is that those of us that experience sexual attraction towards other people regardless of gender might greatly benefit from having their own space.

I don’t care about calling it “pansexuality”.  You can call me “non-gender-oriented-sexual” or whatever else you like (as long as it remains respectful).

What matters to me, is that the current and future generations of LGBTQ+ kids be given the opportunity to meet with other people without gender-based sexual orientation, connect with others that can validate and clearly name what they are going through, and receive some guidance from those of us that have grown fully comfortable embracing that aspect of our sexuality and defining our sexual orientation in an alternative manner.

I am talking about clearer visibility, and access to resources for people we are supposed to care for and help.

I do not care about being right or wrong.

I’m telling you that some “non-gender-oriented-sexual” people, that currently tend to identify as pansexual, feel highly uncomfortable using gender to describe their sexual orientation.

And thus, insisting to put them all in the same category where a subset of people that understand what experiencing heterosexual (sexual attraction towards a gender different than our own) and homosexual urges (sexual attraction towards the same gender) feels like we are reinforcing the notion that there is something abnormal or wrong with them, rather than making it easier for them to get access to the resources they need and receive guidance from people that (fail to) relate to people’s genders in the same (or very similar) way they do.

I’m not trying to say the bisexual manifesto has no value or was wrong, either, simply trying to point out that there are some aspects and implications, regarding the personal experience of people that are sexually attracted to others regardless of their gender, that might have been overlooked back then.

And that we likely have everything to gain, as a larger community, by taking a good second look at all of our current definitions, without fear of redefining ourselves in a way that better reflects today’s context and reality.

I’m asking for help, understanding, acceptance, and hopefully visibility for others like me, so they don’t have to suffer the same issues I suffered from when I was a kid.

I want to help open the dialogue with the pansexual, bisexual and asexual communities, to get their own input on this and see what could be done to help us better support each other.

I’m open to many alternatives and solutions, but from the current look of things, I think this is a discussion that really needs to be had.

[phroyd]

This brilliant researcher supports a theory that vindicates important Feminist Thought, but removes some hopeful biological validation of the pre-adolescent Transgender rationale!  And she is totally correct, there IS No Gendered Brain! - Phroyd

You receive an invitation, emblazoned with a question: “A bouncing little ‘he’ or a pretty little ‘she’?” The question is your teaser for the “gender reveal party” to which you are being invited by an expectant mother who, at more than 20 weeks into her pregnancy, knows what you don’t: the sex of her child. After you arrive, explains cognitive neuroscientist Gina Rippon in her riveting new book, The Gendered Brain, the big reveal will be hidden within some novelty item, such as a white iced cake, and will be colour-coded. Cut the cake and you’ll see either blue or pink filling. If it is blue, it is a…

Yes, you’ve guessed it. Whatever its sex, this baby’s future is predetermined by the entrenched belief that males and females do all kinds of things differently, better or worse, because they have different brains.

A neuroscientist explains: the need for ‘empathetic citizens’ - podcast

“Hang on a minute!” chuckles Rippon, who has been interested in the human brain since childhood, “the science has moved on. We’re in the 21st century now!” Her measured delivery is at odds with the image created by her detractors, who decry her as a “neuronazi” and a “grumpy old harridan” with an “equality fetish”. For my part, I was braced for an encounter with an egghead, who would talk at me and over me. Rippon is patient, though there is an urgency in her voice as she explains how vital it is, how life-changing, that we finally unpack – and discard – the sexist stereotypes and binary coding that limit and harm us.

For Rippon, a twin, the effects of stereotyping kicked in early. Her “under-achieving” brother was sent to a boys’ academic Catholic boarding school, aged 11. “It’s difficult to say this. I was clearly academically bright. I was top in the country for the 11+.” This gave her a scholarship to a grammar school. Her parents sent her to a girls’ non-academic Catholic convent instead. The school did not teach science. Pupils were brought up to be nuns or a diplomatic wife or mother. “Psychology,” she points out, “was the nearest I could get to studying the brain. I didn’t have the A levels to do medicine. I had wanted to be a doctor.”

A PhD in physiological psychology and a focus on brain processes and schizophrenia followed. Today, the Essex-born scientist is a professor emeritus of cognitive neuroimaging at Aston University, Birmingham. Her brother is an artist. When she is not in the lab using state-of-the-art brain imaging techniques to study developmental disorders such as autism, she is out in the world, debunking the “pernicious” sex differences myth: the idea that you can “sex” a brain or that there is such a thing as a male brain and a female brain. It is a scientific argument that has gathered momentum, unchallenged, since the 18th century “when people were happy to spout off about what men and women’s brains were like – before you could even look at them. They came up with these nice ideas and metaphors that fitted the status quo and society, and gave rise to different education for men and women.”

Rippon has analysed the data on sex differences in the brain. She admits that she, like many others, initially sought out these differences. But she couldn’t find any beyond the negligible, and other research was also starting to question the very existence of such differences. For example, once any differences in brain size were accounted for, “well-known” sex differences in key structures disappeared. Which is when the penny dropped: perhaps it was time to abandon the age-old search for the differences between brains from men and brains from women. Are there any significant differences based on sex alone? The answer, she says, is no. To suggest otherwise is “neurofoolishness”.

Plasticity is now a scientific given – the brain is moulded from birth onwards until old age

“The idea of the male brain and the female brain suggests that each is a characteristically homogenous thing and that whoever has got a male brain, say, will have the same kind of aptitudes, preferences and personalities as everyone else with that ‘type’ of brain. We now know that is not the case. We are at the point where we need to say, ‘Forget the male and female brain; it’s a distraction, it’s inaccurate.’ It’s possibly harmful, too, because it’s used as a hook to say, well, there’s no point girls doing science because they haven’t got a science brain, or boys shouldn’t be emotional or should want to lead.”

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The next question was, what then is driving the differences in behaviour between girls and boys, men and women? Our “gendered world”, she says, shapes everything, from educational policy and social hierarchies to relationships, self-identity, wellbeing and mental health. If that sounds like a familiar 20th-century social conditioning argument, it is – except that it is now coupled with knowledge of the brain’s plasticity, which we have only been aware of in the past 30 years.

“It is now a scientific given,” says Rippon, “that the brain is moulded from birth onwards and continues to be moulded through to the ‘cognitive cliff’ in old age when our grey cells start disappearing. So out goes the old ‘biology is destiny’ argument: effectively, that you get the brain you are born with – yes, it gets a bit bigger and better connected but you’ve got your developmental endpoint, determined by a biological blueprint unfolding along the way. With brain plasticity, the brain is much more a function of experiences. If you learn a skill your brain will change, and it will carry on changing.” This is shown to be the case in studies of black cab drivers learning the Knowledge, for example. “The brain is waxing and waning much more than we ever realised. So if you haven’t had particular experiences – if as a girl you weren’t given Lego, you don’t have the same spatial training that other people in the world have.

If, on the other hand, you were given those spatial tasks again and again, you would get better at them. “The neural paths change; they become automatic pathways. The task really does become easier.”

Neural plasticity throws the nature/nurture polarity out of the lab window. “Nature is entangled with nature,” says Rippon. Added to this, “being part of a social cooperative group is one of the prime drives of our brain.” The brain is also predictive and forward-thinking in a way we had never previously realised. Like a satnav, it follows rules, is hungry for them. “The brain is a rule scavenger,” explains Rippon, “and it picks up its rules from the outside world. The rules will change how the brain works and how someone behaves.” The upshot of gendered rules? “The ‘gender gap’ becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

Rippon regularly talks in schools. She wants girls to have leading scientists as role models, and she wants all children to know that their identity, abilities, achievements and behaviour are not prescribed by their biological sex. “Gender bombardment” makes us think otherwise. Male babies dressed in blue romper suits, female ones in pink is a binary coding that belies a status quo that resists the scientific evidence. “Pinkification”, as Rippon calls it, has to go. Parents don’t always like what they hear.

The brain is a rule scavenger and it picks up its rules from the outside world

“They say, ‘I have a son and a daughter, and they are different.’ And I say, ‘I have two daughters, and they are very different.’ When you talk about male and female identity, people are very wedded to the idea that men and women are different. People like me are not sex-difference deniers,” continues Rippon. “Of course there are sex differences. Anatomically, men and women are different. The brain is a biological organ. Sex is a biological factor. But it is not the sole factor; it intersects with so many variables.”

I ask her for a comparable watershed moment in the history of scientific understanding, in order to gauge the significance of her own. “The idea of the Earth circling around the sun,” she bats back.

Letting go of age-old certainties is frightening, concedes Rippon, who is both optimistic about the future, and fearful for it. “I am concerned about what the 21st century is doing, the way it’s making gender more relevant. We need to look at what we are plunging our children’s brains into.”

Ours may be the age of the self-image, yet we aren’t ready to let the individual self emerge, unfettered by cultural expectations of one’s biological sex. That disconnect, says Rippon, is writ large, for example, in men. “It suggests there is something wrong in their self-image.” The social brain wants to fit in. The satnav recalibrates, according to expectations. “If they are being driven down a route that leads to self-harm or even suicide or violence, what is taking them there?”

On the plus side, our plastic brains are good learners. All we need to do is change the life lessons.

How gender stereotypes led brain science

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Research so far has failed to challenge deep prejudice, says Gina Rippon

Several things went wrong in the early days of sex differences and brain imaging research. With respect to sex differences, there was a frustrating backward focus on historical beliefs in stereotypes (termed “neurosexism” by psychologist Cordelia Fine). Studies were designed based on the go-to list of the “robust” differences between females and males, generated over the centuries, or the data were interpreted in terms of stereotypical female/male characteristics which may not have even been measured in the scanner. If a difference was found, it was much more likely to be published than a finding of no difference, and it would also breathlessly be hailed as an “at last the truth” moment by an enthusiastic media. Finally the evidence that women are hard-wired to be rubbish at map reading and that men can’t multi-task! So the advent of brain imaging at the end of the 20th century did not do much to advance our understanding of alleged links between sex and the brain. Here in the 21st century, are we doing any better?

One major breakthrough in recent years has been the realisation that, even in adulthood, our brains are continually being changed, not just by the education we receive, but also by the jobs we do, the hobbies we have, the sports we play. The brain of a working London taxi driver will be different from that of a trainee and from that of a retired taxi driver; we can track differences among people who play videogames or are learning origami or to play the violin. Supposing these brain-changing experiences are different for different people, or groups of people? If, for example, being male means that you have much greater experience of constructing things or manipulating complex 3D representations (such as playing with Lego), it is very likely that this will be shown in your brain. Brains reflect the lives they have lived, not just the sex of their owners.

Seeing the life-long impressions made on our plastic brains by the experiences and attitudes they encounter makes us realise that we need to take a really close look at what is going on outside our heads as well as inside. We can no longer cast the sex differences debate as nature versus nurture – we need to acknowledge that the relationship between a brain and its world is not a one-way street, but a constant two-way flow of traffic.

Once we acknowledge that our brains are plastic and mouldable, then the power of gender stereotypes becomes evident. If we could follow the brain journey of a baby girl or a baby boy, we could see that right from the moment of birth, or even before, these brains may be set on different roads. Toys, clothes, books, parents, families, teachers, schools, universities, employers, social and cultural norms – and, of course, gender stereotypes – all can signpost different directions for different brains.

Resolving arguments about differences in the brain really matters. Understanding where such differences come from is important for everyone who has a brain and everyone who has a sex or a gender of some kind. Beliefs about sex differences (even if ill-founded) inform stereotypes, which commonly provide just two labels – girl or boy, female or male – which, in turn, historically carry with them huge amounts of “contents assured” information and save us having to judge each individual on their own merits or idiosyncrasies.

With input from exciting breakthroughs in neuroscience, the neat, binary distinctiveness of these labels is being challenged – we are coming to realise that nature is inextricably entangled with nurture. What used to be thought fixed and inevitable is being shown to be plastic and flexible; the powerful biology-changing effects of our physical and our social worlds are being revealed.

The 21st century is not just challenging the old answers – it is challenging the question itself.

An extract from The Gendered Brain by Gina Rippon, published by Vintage on 28 February for £20. To buy a copy for £15 go to guardianbookshop.com

Phroyd

[1-800-hellraiser]

Born This Way (Jane the Killer x Female! Lesbian!Reader)

Pages: 5.1 

Words: 1,793

Genre: I have no Idea tbh/kinda fluffy?

Associated song: Born this way - Lady Gaga

!Tw! Swearing and alcohol

(P.s Happy Pride! :))

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"No matter gay, straight, or bi, lesbian, transgendered life. I'm on the right track baby, I was born to survive."

    You stand nervously at Jane's door, trying to work up the nerve to knock. 'Why is this so fucking difficult for me?' You ask yourself, you don't really know. You want to ask Jane to go to a pride parade with you and Clockwork that's somewhat close to the mansion. But, you can't bring yourself to ask her. You don't want to be a pussy and ask someone else to ask her for you, that's middle school level pussy-ness. You are not going to stoop down to that level. Ever.

   Taking a deep breath, you knock on Jane's door. You immediately regret it as you hear a muffled 'I'll be there in a second' through her door. You are tempted to sprint back to your room. Before you could, Jane's door opens. Your breath hitches in your throat. "Oh hey Y/n." "H-hey Jane." You manage out, Jane looks at you funny. "Are you okay Y/n?" Hearing that, you finally come to your senses. 

   "Oh yeah, I'm fine. I just zoned out a bit. But, I came to ask you if you wanted to maybe go to a pride parade with me and Clockwork?" You squeak out, Jane's eyes widen a bit. "I would love that, Y/n. When are we going?" Jane asks, gently rubbing her left hand over her right. "Tomorrow at noon, its going to be on walnut  street. We're gonna walk." You explain, a hint of relief in your tone.

   "Ok, great!" Jane says, putting her hands together. You smile and nod. "I'm gonna go tell Clockwork that you're coming, I'll see you tomorrow." You say, giving Jane a gentle wave, she waves back and goes back into her  room. You silently celebrate in front of her closed door. Then, you happily walk to Clockwork's room.

    After navigating through a few hallways, you find a door with 'Clockwork' messily etched into the wood. You knock on Clockworks door excitedly, rocking back and forth on your heels. After a few seconds, a disheveled looking Clockwork emerges from her room. "What do you want." She slurs, your face explodes into a giant grin. "She said yes!" You say, bouncing on your feet. Clockwork smiles and wipes some drool off of her chin. 

   "That's great, now leave me alone, I'm trying to sleep." Clockwork insists, closing her door on you. That didn't phase you though, since she's just like that. You go back to your room to find something to do. You arrive back at your room and decide to pick out some clothes for pride tomorrow.

   You decide to take the lesbian flag you have hanging above your bed with you. You search through your wardrobe and find a sleeveless flannel with the lesbian flag colors. You take that and find a pair of black jean shorts. You grab those and look for a pair of socks. You find knee high rainbow socks with white hearts you got last year from Spencer's. You also have some bracelets that are the lesbian flag colors. You set your outfit on top of your dresser and look around for something to do. 

   You glance at the clock on your wall. It reads 10:37 (22:37) pm. You decide to shower and hit the hay. You grab your pjs and walk to the bathroom. You grab some towels from the cabnet next to the sink. You place your pjs on the edge of the sink and strip off your old clothes. You toss your old clothes to the side, and turn on the shower. You step in and let the warm water cascade over you. 

   Stepping out of the shower, you wrap at towel around your figure. After you dry off, you brush through your h/c mess of hair. After that, you brush your teeth and pick up your clothes and put them in with the rest of your dirty clothes. You finally flop onto your bed and slowly slip out of consciousness.

   Tomorrow arrives with a bang, literally. Clockwork got back at you for waking her up by sneaking into your room with a gun and firing it in your room. Thankfully, nothing was damaged. "YOU MOTHERFUCKER." You screech falling off your bed. Clockwork is doubled over crying. "You ass!" You yell, Clockwork only laughs harder.

   You sigh loudly, "I'll deal with you later, I need to shower." You sigh and close the door on the dying Clockwork. You collect your pride apparel and trudge into the bathroom. You peel off your pjs and toss them aside. You test the water before getting in the shower. The water is perfect, so you step in. 

   Stepping out of your nice morning shower, you feel refreshed. You dry yourself off, brush your hair and teeth, then get dressed. You also used body paint and painted the lesbian flag on the bottom of your right eye and the top of your left eye. You look at yourself in the mirror. You smile, you look cute today, you hope Jane thinks the same.

   You blush and shake your head, ridding that thought from your mind. You walk out of the bathroom with your pjs, butting them back to wear tonight. You put in your shoes and gather your things. You leave your room and notice that Clockwork left. You shrug and walk down to the living room. Clockwork is decked out in pride gear, but Jane isn't so much. She does, however, have a medium sized lesbian flag laying on her lap and lesbian flags painted on the cheeks of her mask. 

    "Wow Y/n, you look cute." Jane muses, resting her face in her hand, being careful of her makeup. "O-oh, thanks, Jane." You respond, gliding your fingertips over your flushed cheek. "Well, we better get going, I want to get there early before it get's to rowdy," Jane states. You nod, some pride serve alcohol for the adults, some don't serve alcohol. The pride closest to you, does. You follow Jane and Clockwork out the door and make your way through the forest.

   You finally make it to pride. There are quite a few people there already. About, 50-100 people, with more probably on their way. There are many flags, of course. There are the most common ones, like the gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, transgender, nonbinary, genderqueer, LGBTQ+ ally, and many more flags. But there are also some that are less common, such as intersex, omnisexual, aromantic, asexual, polysexual, and even lithromantic flags. 

   You're so happy to see so many people that are accepting of themselves and others. You feel this fuzziness inside you, and it's not just the beer. You feel at home, safe. You look around at the people, and vendors. The vendors are selling food and apparel for people that want to buy it. There are also a few drag queens and kings walking around, taking pictures with people. There is also music, the song playing right now is 'Born This Way' by Lady Gaga. 

   "Holy shit, is that Trixie Mattel?!" You hear Clockwork shout over the music. You turn and sure enough, it is the infamous Trixie Mattel. "It sure is." You add, Clockwork grabs your and Jane's wrists and proceeds to drag you to ho meet her. You giggle, for as long as you known Clockwork, you've known about her love for the queen. Clockwork watches Trixie's videos religiously. 

   Once you reach the queen, Clockworks freezes. You never seen her do this before, at all. Jane taps Trixie on the shoulder. "Excuse me, Ms. Mattel?" Trixie turns around and smiles at Jane. "Oh honey, no need to be so formal! Please, call me Trixie." The queen declares, Jame nods. "Okay, Trixie, my friend Natalie here wanted to get a picture with you, she's a huge fan." Jane explains, nudging Clockwork closer to Trixie. 

   Clockwork snaps out of her broken-ness and grins ear to ear. She pats around her pockets for her phone, a look of panic sets onto her facial features as she realizes she left her phone at home. You hand her your phone, "I'll send you the picture when we go back home," You affirm. Clockwork smiles and hugs you tightly, "Oh my god thank you Y/n, you're the best!" "You're welcome." You say, patting her back. 

   Clockwork goes up to Trixie, Trixie wraps her harm around Clockwork and Clockwork wraps her arm around Trixie's waist. Clockwork snaps the picture, says a quick 'thank you' and scuffles away. After she walks away, she bounces on her heels, gushing about how nice Trixie is and how cool she is. You giggle at Clockwork fangirling over her favorite queen. 

   You, Jane and Clockwork had fun at pride. You won a dance competition between you and a random person who bet on you losing. You gained twenty dollars from that experience. Jane got hit on by a lot of women and used you as an excuse to get away from it all, while Clockwork made out with a total of twelve single people. Eight female and four male. You bought some more pride apparel at some of the vendors and some fucking amazing food. Clockwork also got drunk and threw up in a trashcan, that's when you and Jane decided to call it a day.

   You and Jane haul a drunken Clockwork up to her room. "Nooooo, I wanna go *hic* backkkkk." She pleads, Jane shakes her head. "Clockwork, you're very drunk, we can't go back, besides, it was getting dark anyways." You try to explain, but it didn't work. You open Clockwork's bedroom door and lay her on her bed. You set her phone in her hand and walk out of the room with Jane. 

   "I had a lot of fun today with you, Jane." You inform, rubbing the back of your neck. "I did too, we should do that again sometime." You nod and look down. "Y/n, look at me, I think you have something on your face." You look up at Jane and she leans forward and plants a sweet peck on your lips. "Goodnight Y/n, see you tomorrow," She says. Jane turns and calmly walks away from you. You brush your fingertips over your lips and break out into a goofy grin.

[tamsong]

biana coming to terms with her sexuality: a short fic

(cw: internalized homophobia due to a heteronormativity)

when biana came in sophie’s room at alluveterre late at night, rubbing her eyes and saying, “uh, can i ask you something?” in a soft, nervous voice, sophie wasn’t surprised.

this had happened with nearly every one of her friends. they would appear in her room either at night or during a period of downtime, looking like they were possessed by an idea that they couldn’t get rid of. they’d ask if they could ask her something, and sophie would say, “of course.” usually the question was something pertaining to the human world. dex had asked once if humans really had been to the moon. keefe asked if it was true that humans had schools specifically for art and music. fitz asked if humans’ minds could break and what they might do if someone was struggling mentally. sophie would answer, and the friend would stand there contemplating for a few moments, whisper a quiet “thanks,” and then leave. this had almost become routine, and sophie had actually been waiting for biana to come it at some point.

what did surprise sophie, though, was the question that biana asked.

“is it true that in the human world, you can get married to someone of the same gender?”

sophie blinked. she had never heard any elf say anything about the lgbt community, as it was called in the forbidden cities. she hadn’t even known that it was even a concept that existed for elves. “um, yes,” she said. “not everywhere. some humans think it’s sinful and treat people really bad for it. but in the country where i’m from, i think they just legalized it a year or two ago. and there are pride events for people who like the same gender or are transgender- if you don’t know what that means, it’s when someone is born as one gender but their mind doesn’t match up to it. why do you ask?”

biana didn’t reply, and at first sophie thought she was going to leave. instead, biana walked over to sophie’s bed and sat down next to her, not making eye contact. she twisted her fingers over and over again, her usual nervous habit. sophie became increasingly worried that she was going to break a bone. “elves don’t have anything like that. i’ve never known a boy who liked a boy, or a girl who liked a girl. when you get your match lists, there’s no question asking you what gender you like. i know because i’ve secretly looked at alvar’s. why?” she murmured. “why isn’t it an option for us?”

sophie turned to look at biana, who was still gazing down at the floor. it was hard to tell in the dark room, illuminated only by a few weak beams of light from where the door was cracked open, but she thought biana was blushing. she thought she knew what biana wanted to tell her, but sophie didn’t want to scare her off. “elves seem weirdly obsessed with genetic diversity and having children,” sophie offered gently. “that’s what the match lists are for, right? so it would make sense that same-gender couples aren’t considered in the lists. or,” she added, “maybe elves just don’t have that in their genes, or maybe it’s so rare that nobody thinks about it.”

biana shook her head violently. sophie wasn’t sure if she was denying something, or upset, or just clearing her head. she scooted a little closer to her friend, and wrapped an arm around biana’s slightly trembling shoulders. “are you okay?” sophie asked. “is something wrong?”

biana gave a small shrug. the two girls sat there silent together for a moment. finally, biana screwed her eyes shut and blurted out, “i think i might be broken. like something in my head has gone wrong. i know it.” she turned back up to look sophie in the eyes, her face constricted with panic. “i don’t like boys at all. never have. i hope that i will eventually, but the longer i go without liking them the less sure i am that it’ll ever happen.” she paused, and then sighed, and her whole body seemed to sag. “can i trust you?”

“of course,” sophie said without hesitating. “no matter what, i’ll always be here for you.”

“i know,” biana said. “but i’m scared. this is the first time i’ve ever said this out loud. it’s... a lot, you know?”

sophie nodded. she rubbed her thumb on biana’s neck to try to calm her nerves. it was a small gesture, but sophie wanted her friend to know that she had her undying love and support. “i know. it’s okay,” she said.

“it’s okay,” biana repeated numbly. “it’s okay? i don’t think it is. but i’m gonna have to say it at some point so i might as well do it now.” she breathed in to steady herself. “i... i think i like girls. boys are fine, but whenever i see you fangirling over my brother or... or whatever, i just don’t get it. i faked my crush on keefe because i didn’t want anybody to look at me weirdly and he seemed like a reasonable option because lots of girls like him and he would never actually like me back anyway,” she rambled. “but whenever i see a pretty girl, it’s like i freeze up, and i blush a lot, and i want to stare at her all day but i have to look away so i don’t seem weird. i denied it for so long because that’s unheard of here, but i can only hold back the truth for so long. sometimes, i make friends with a girl i like, because that’s all i can really hope for, but ninety percent of the time she just goes after my brother and that’s part of why i was so mean to you at first. i didn’t want to get hurt again.” 

she dropped her head into her hands. “i’m so sorry, sophie, you probably didn’t want to hear about this. i know it’s not right and i’m just bad and broken and i’m sorry! i’m sorry,” she cried, her voice quivering and her body heaving with sobs that she didn’t have to hold back anymore. sophie simply rubbed her back and let her cry, knowing how cathartic this all was for her. 

when biana’s sobs began to level out, sophie said, “biana. look at me.” her friend shook her head. “please. look at me.”

she slowly lifted her head as if it were the hardest task she’d ever had to accomplish. biana’s eyes were rimmed with red, and sophie could see tear tracks carving paths through her perfect face. you don’t deserve this, sophie thought helplessly. the world should be treating you better than this. 

“biana.”

“yeah?”

sophie cupped biana’s face and wiped away a tear. “you shouldn’t be sorry. this is who you are, and there is nothing wrong with you. i know you might not feel like that. but it’s true. and i’ll keep telling you that as long as you need me to.”

biana sniffled. “thanks, sophie. i don’t think i believe it yet, but i really appreciate it.” suddenly, she threw her arms around sophie, and sophie was happy to hug her back. “thank you. thank you so much.”

the two girls stayed like this for what seemed like hours, holding each other tight under the weight of the darkness and the rest of the world. finally, they separated, but didn’t move any farther than that. biana asked, “do you think it would be okay if i slept here with you tonight?” she paused. “wait, no, that sounded bad. i promise, sophie, i didn’t mean anything weird! you can say no if you want. i’m sorry!”

sophie shouldn’t have laughed, because biana was genuinely distressed, but she couldn’t help it. “relax, it’s fine. you can totally stay! i know you don’t mean anything weird.”

biana sighed with relief. “oh, okay. good.”

they sat there on the bed talking about meaningless things for a few more minutes, and then crawled next to each other under the covers. biana was tired from all the emotional vulnerability, and so she began to drift off rather quickly. as she sank into the gentle fog of sleep, biana couldn’t help thinking that maybe everything really would be okay.

(and if sophie and biana woke up in the morning cuddled closer together than was entirely necessary, what did it matter? nobody needed to know.)

[bbcmyhero]

Car

Got a little free time, so I might as well get started on this one. Into the episode with the giant continuity error, because I distinctly remember them having a car before this episode. At least I’m about...95% sure they did.

Are weetabix anything like the mini-wheats cereal? Cuz, if so, I’d honestly like to get my mitts on some. Frosted mini-wheats have the best crunch, ever. 

Also, I hate eating odd numbers of things. I maybe wouldn’t eat 20 giant wheat cracker things, but maybe...4?

Standing in the corner and howling is very #relatable. I get you, Arnie

Again with the fat jokes. Lovely. 

No need to rub in Arnie’s lack of powers by doing an equipment test right then and there. George is worst cousin. 

Still get a giggle out of that George and Ella interaction. 

“No, don’t kiss me.” 

“Thanks very much, Ella, I really appreciate that.” 

I really think if left to their own devices, George and Stanley would get along. Even if they had to bond over not liking Ella. 

Oh, the weird guy in the corner is friends with George? Not a shock. 

There it is, the part about them not having a car. But, again, I coulda sworn they had one in an earlier episode.

Yeah, just checked. Janet’s getting groceries out of a car in the pilot episode. 

Did they have to sell it? 

OMG, George, stop talking. You look like the saddest gold-digger in the world. Mooching off someone as apparently broke as Janet. 

“You make me ashamed of my sex!” 

“Ella knows you try your best, Stanley.” 

BRB, dying

Nice. Now there’s two howlers. 

Poor Janet. 

See, right there. Tyler does the same thing George does later, when he erases his own memory, while trying to remind himself not to talk about Thermoman. Like Tyler’s erasing his own memory. 

Tyler is a transgender alien. Change my mind. 

That poster of Piers is the definition of Cringe. But, also, yeah. No. The man is gorgeous, but I wouldn’t trust him to operate on anyone. No one should book a surgery with him. 

But dear sweet fluffy LORD, this is precious!

The genuine smile. The jumping into the car like an excited kid. 

The blue shirt. 

Did he need to be a smug ass? No. 

Do I enjoy seeing the precious actually happy? Yes. 

Can’t say I blame Mrs Raven. Don’t want anyone in my face with the flu, either. 

I get sick, I crumble like a jenga tower. 

“There is no Mr Right. There’s only Mr Crap, Mr Tit, and their friend, Mr Total Tosser.” 

Wisdom. 

That is a beautiful tie. 

And lookit Piers! For one brief  moment, having none to give about anyone’s opinion. 

Because he’s got a really flash car, and you haven’t. 

“You needn’t worry, Mrs Raven. Janet says most germs are afraid of catching you.” 

And Janet just...runs…

Again, howling in the corner is a totally normal reaction to having no money. 

“I could clone myself, but we’d keep on fighting over who gets ya on a Saturday night.” 

Retroactively disturbing line, considering Hilary the creeper clone. 

WTF, George? Why did your mind jump straight to the idea that Janet was suggesting eating Arnie? 

What the actual hell goes on up there on Ultron? 

Aw, Janet and Arnie celebrating together. Another case of “could have been adorable friends.” 

Except Arnie is a creep, so…

Yet again, Janet laughing at the weird alien custom. 

Which, granted, does look like camp gay “I’m a little teapot,” but still. Rude. 

Okay, I definitely see the fat Freddie Mercury resemblance. 

Doesn’t mean I have to like the joke. 

Also, frozen Janet is the stuff of nightmares. Is no one going to thaw her out? 

I’m not 100% convinced Tyler isn’t hearing actual alien words in the radio static. 

Poor thing. I know he meant “present life,” as in reincarnation, but I still think “faded memories of being Ultronian.” 

This lady’s gold blouse is awesome. 

But ew with Arnie looking through her clothes. 

I know they immediately sniffed a disaster, but that alone should still have gotten him a warning. Considering his hero test question was about sexual harassment. 

Piers has on a stupid hat. I love it. 

It makes the boring shirt more attractive. 

BUT! Dude bragging aside, bby, we all know you didn’t take any ladies for a “test drive.” Except in your own mind. 

Bless. Janet and George are so happy about his four customers, but everyone else is completely unimpressed. 

And the weirdest courting ritual in the world begins in 3

2

1

Mrs Raven gets bitchy, Arnie gets...a boner, apparently. 

Insult. Insult. Hand lick. Both parties clearly need a cigarette. 

I ship it. 

And George basically just insulted Mrs Raven by saying it was fair how she hated everyone. And she just looks pleased as punch. 

Bits of shipwreck all over the living room and helmets not in the helmet cupboard. You know your life is weird, when…

Um, no. Bad George. We don’t imply the little woman is a nag when she doesn’t want you trashing the house for her to clean up. 

At least he cleaned up without complaining. 

Oh, I love this part. 

“She’s queen of here...YOU’VE STOLEN THE CROWN JEWELS!” 

GDI, Arnie

And there went Janet’s morals completely out the window. 

YOU’VE STOLEN THE CROWN JEWELS

But I want a car

Okay, theft is staying on the dl for now

Stanley doesn’t even blink at George wearing a crown. It’s just one more weird thing George does. 

That was weirdly polite. “Oh, it’s you. You’ve come outta your corner.” 

Like, nice to meet you, weird guy. What’s up. 

Love that delayed reaction...oh. Wait. George is wearing a crown. 

Oh, of course this weirdly similar crown isn’t part of the crown jewels. 

Good thing George was so completely convinced of that, or Stanley probably wouldn’t have been. 

Tyler still in the corner counting the oats. Apparently no one finds that a bit strange. 

At least that guy behind him threw some side eye at calling George “master.” 

Also, I would dearly love it if I could find a magical alien healer to fix everything that is fubared in my stupid body. 

No more broken thyroid gland. No more kidney pain. No more stress puking. 

Sounds fake. 

Mrs Raven wanting the phone to ring, then getting annoyed when it does, is me bored outta my mind and wishing someone would text. Then resenting it. 

Janet’s face says she really believes Mrs Raven would kill all the patients and bury them in the car park. 

“Bye, baby, daddy’ll see you very soon.” 

I react to this the same way I react to bearded Hugh swinging his belt on Taskmaster. 

Incoherent whimpering and nail biting, mostly. At the calmer end. 

Jesus!

Okay, I’m cool. 

“I am always...we’ve got no patients.” 

Blue! Shirt!

It’s not nice to say sexy things while wearing a blue shirt. Sir. Not fair. 

I’m fine. 

Piers just watching Arnie and Mrs Raven’s mating ritual like...wtf am I seeing here? And then just nodding, like, yeah, that was definitely the most disturbing flirting I’ve ever seen. I’m leaving before it gets worse….

Wait…

Is George curing my patients? 

How very dare he? The nerve!

Mrs Raven’s little quick change with the stolen scarf. I think it has to be in the lost and found more than one week before you can claim it, ya know. 

Bless him, I think Piers is going to cry. And back to caring what everyone thinks, again. 

Another thing that was nice while it lasted. 

Theft cat is out of the bag. But he’s right. That is one ugly necklace. 

Even if all that stuff was just stolen and hidden in their flat that day, how did no one notice a bedroom full of corgis? They’d surely have started barking at some point. 

Rule of funny. 

George at least has more morals than Janet. 

I mean, I know a car would be useful, but I can’t believe either of them trusted Arnie in the first place. 

Howling sadly in the corner is contagious. Poor Janet. Nice going, George. Just couldn’t be a little more optimistic, could you? 

Lovely problematic cinnamon roll in a blue shirt is at the door. 

“You have all my patients, I want them back….Not that I like them, they just go with the job.” 

I love him. 

If looks could kill, I’d have murdered Janet and George ten times over by now. 

Couldn’t just take the check and get yourselves any old car. 

No. 

I mean, someone hands me 8k, I’m not gonna be a greedy prick about it. 

But, it’s the throat-clearing and the slumped shoulders that Piers has going on, while handing over his car keys. Like a little kid that just got conned out of his favorite toy. 

And the fidgety hands.

God save me from this man’s little sad hand fidgets. 

“Can we give you a lift?” 

You ever see A Fish Called Wanda? The way whenever Otto crashes his car into someone else’s he always screams “asshoooooooooole!” 

That’s me, rn. 

I mean, I laughed the first time. But that was before...the incident. The moment that changed everything. 

Also, flying the car over traffic isn’t very subtle and secret-identity. 

Douchebags. 

[crystalninjaphoenix]

One Short Day

A JSE Fanfic

Yay, I wrote something that isn’t connected to pain for once in my life! Or at least, the most you get are hints and maybe a moment. I was planning on working on something else, but...I don’t know, I just felt like I needed something softer, and I’m sure there are people who need that too. So behold, an attempt at mostly-fluff! I just wanted to write the boys having fun out on the town, simple enough ^-^

It was rare that there was a full day they could all be together. A day where Schneep wasn’t working, Chase wasn’t recording, Marvin didn’t have a show, and Jackie didn’t have to bolt off at the last minute to do heroic vigilantism. A day where they could just do whatever they wanted, all of them, together.

They met up at Jackie’s apartment building. Naturally, JJ arrived first, then Schneep and Chase at about the same time. Just when they were starting to get worried, Marvin showed up, sprinting up to the group and skidding to a halt beside them.

“Late again, I see?” Jackie said when Marvin finally caught his breath. “Maybe we should just tell you we’re meeting thirty minutes earlier than we actually are.”

“Gimme a break.” Marvin rolled his eyes. “My phone was out of battery so I couldn’t check the time, then I got distracted.”

Jackie raised an eyebrow. “With what?”

“Um...” Marvin looked away, embarrassed. “I may have started playing Plague Inc...for an hour...or more.”

“Dude. Set a timer next time or something,” Chase said. “Ask JJ if you can borrow one of his watches if you have to, I dunno, anything.”

“Enough of this, we are wasting minutes,” Schneep said, checking his own watch. “Jackie decided what to do, what is it?”

Jackie immediately brightened. “Okay, so, we all know JJ hasn’t seen much of the town.” Everyone nodded. “So I thought we could give him the grand tour! Get lunch, go to the park, and I think the fair is open tonight so we can finish with that. That good with everyone?”

“So we’re just gonna walk all over town?” Chase asked. “Only two of us can drive, and none of us have a car right now.”

“Toughen up, Chase, walking’s good for you!” Marvin teased. “Right? Schneep, you’re a doctor, tell him I’m right.”

“He’s right,” Schneep said.

“See?!”

JJ snapped his fingers for attention. I thought we were wasting time? I certainly can’t lead the way, so I’ll ask one of you to.

“Right!” Jackie started off. “C’mon guys, lunch is waiting for us!”

They ended up at a local restaurant near the center of town called Kassie’s. It was a quaint little place, and since it was a warm day they decided to sit at a table outside. The chipper waitress gave them a plate of free fries, then took their order, and headed back inside.

“Is it just me, or is it kind of hot today?” Chase asked, fanning himself with some of the napkins.

“No, it’s not just you. God, I’m dying,” Jackie agreed.

“Jackie, you are not only wearing long sleeves, you are wearing two layers of them,” Schneep pointed out with a smile.

“Oh, you’re one to talk, Mr. Sweater-all-the-time!” Jackie rolled his eyes. “What about Jays? He’s got that vest/dress shirt on.”

JJ looked aghast. You four can run around and show your arms all you like, but I’ll have you know it isn’t proper for a gentleman!

“Are you implying we aren’t gentlemen?” Marvin asked, right before tossing a fry into the air and catching it in his mouth.

JJ raised an eyebrow. Indeed.

“I don’t care, it’s hot. I’m taking this off.” With a few flailing arms, Jackie pulled his hoodie over his head and tugged it off, revealing a Marvel-themed T-shirt underneath. “Ah. That’s better.” He looked around to see the others staring at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Holy shit, Jackie!” Chase yelled. “Your arm!”

“Wh—oh fuck I forgot I was wearing short sleeves today.” Jackie looked down at his left arm. “Yeah, okay, I got scars, you can look all you want.”

“So that’s why I’ve never seen you in T-shirts,” Marvin realized. “Jackie, what the fuck happened?”

Jackie frowned, then coughed awkwardly. “Y’know...I’d rather not talk about it right now. Maybe later. Besides, Schneep already knows the story. ‘S how we met.”

“Honestly, you three are making mountains out of mole hills,” Schneep said. “Is fine now. You should see his torso, now those are scars.”

That only made the other three look more worried. Jackie sighed. “Look, guys, we’re having a fun day. We’re gonna have fun, and not gonna get all concerned, though I do appreciate it. And you—” he glared at Schneep “—need to stop saying that, ‘cause it makes it sound like I lost some epic battle instead of just having top surgery.”

Chase and Marvin relaxed in unison. “I’m still convinced you have, I dunno, fucking bullet scars or something,” Marvin muttered as Chase pulled the remains of the fries towards him.

“Oh yeah, but Schneep’s talking about the surgery. He’s done this before, and it’s no longer funny!” Jackie looked pointedly at Schneep when saying that last part, who just responded with a massive grin.

JJ was the only one who still looked concerned, but now that was paired with confusion. He looked around at the others. What is top surgery?

You could almost hear the hiss as the others all inhaled sharply in unison. They’d all forgotten for a moment that JJ didn’t know. Schneep cleared his throat. “Jackie, would you like to explain?”

“Right yeah. God, where do I start with this?” There was a slight pause in the conversation as the waitress returned with their food. The moment she was out of earshot, Jackie started up again. “Alright, so...” he leaned forward, hands clasped together, eyes wide and nervous. “You know how I call myself Jackieboy Man, right?”

JJ nodded. A moniker I never understood, but yes.

“Well, I didn’t always call myself that. Neither did anyone else. Because, well, they all thought that...I was a, uh, girl. Even I did. For the longest time I just sort of...accepted it. I only started to figure it out in high school. I got my first job, and one of the customers called me ‘that nice lady,’ and hearing it...just sort of surprised me. Like someone gave the wrong answer to a really easy test question. So...I started thinking, and eventually I realized that I wasn’t...actually a girl. That was when I renamed myself.”

JJ didn’t look any less confused. Why would they not understand that? Wouldn’t they be able to...see that you are not?

Jackie winced. “Well, no...you see, I...fuck.” Jackie put his head in his hands, took a deep breath, then looked up again. “I was born...in the wrong body. Top surgery is...it’s to get rid of the parts I didn’t want. Are you...are you getting this now?”

After a moment, JJ’s eyes widened. He nodded hesitantly.

“Okay. Good. Great.” Jackie sighed. “I don’t know if this word existed in the twenties, but nowadays we have ‘transgender’ as...a thing. When someone is something other than what their body is born as. I’m still a he. Or, just, anything but she, really. Literally call me anything but a girl. And please, don’t ask about what my name was before. Or what’s...down there. Those questions make me...really uncomfortable.”

My good man! JJ signed. Why would I do such a rude thing? And to my dear friend, nonetheless. 

Jackie’s shoulders slumped. He leaned back in his chair and exhaled in relief. He’d been dreading this conversation, but better to rip the bandaid off now. “Thanks, man. I...appreciate your understanding.”

JJ smiled. No trouble at all, Jackie! I may not fully grasp the concept, but that’s no reason to disrespect your wishes.

“If you want, I can answer questions. Just...later. And as long as you get I don’t represent everyone who’s trans.”

JJ nodded and gave a thumbs-up. There was silence for a moment, before Chase broke it by saying “Hey, guys, I made a Jenga tower out of fries.”

Schneep rolled his eyes, and immediately knocked over Chase’s tower.

“Aw you bitch!” Chase gasped. “You didn’t even play the game right!”

“Fuck your games. Actually eat the food like it’s supposed to be.”

“You’re just jealous cause you got a salad instead.”

“Maybe I am! Did you think of that?!”

“Dude, I just said I did!”

The rest of lunch was covered in the blanket of familiar banter. Jackie smiled to himself. God, he was so glad nothing changed.

About two hours later, the boys had made their way to the southern part of the city. That was where the park was. It had an official name, but everyone just called it “the park” because there was only one of them and it was shorter. The park itself was pretty big, with trees, paths, flowerbeds, and two playgrounds at either end.

Since it was the middle of the afternoon, there were quite a few families with young children hanging around, parents watching their kids climb all over the jungle gyms and pushing them on the swings. While Marvin and Jackie walked ahead, pulling JJ with them and talking his ears off, Chase and Schneep hung back a bit. Chase was staring at the families on the playground.

“Chase? Are you okay?” Schneep asked gently. 

“Yeah...yeah, I’m fine. It’s not a down day.” Schneep gave him a Look. “No, really! It’s just...y’know, seeing all the kids kinda bums me out. You know?”

“Of course I do, Chase,” Schneep said. He was probably the only one of the boys who did. “If you are feeling upset, you can go home.”

“No! God, no, that’s not what I meant at all. This has been good so far. I don’t want it to end.” Chase frowned. “Now I’m just...man. I’m starting to lose it.”

“Chase.” Schneep grabbed his hand. “If you are not enjoying yourself, we can always go do something more quiet. We would hate to push you to do something you are not up to.”

Chase considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “Nah, it’s not too bad. It helps that you guys are here, I think. But I’ll let you know...if it gets too much.”

Schneep gave him a long look, before finally judging that everything was alright. “Okay. You have to do that, or I am going to break into your home at night and yell at you for lying.”

“Okay, okay, I get the idea,” Chase laughed. He looked down at their clasped hands. “You’re not worried people are gonna think we’re a couple, then?”

“What? Oh. Is there no such thing as regular hand-holding in this country?! Besides, it should not fucking matter. Also you are not my type anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re not mine, either. You’re a guy.” Chase and Schneep both had a good laugh at that.

Marvin looked over his shoulder at the two of them. “Are you two gonna walk fast or what?”

“Or what,” Chase said with a smirk.

“Oh, you’re hilarious. A fucking comedic genius. Hey guys!” he said that last part to Jackie and JJ. “We’re gonna slow down so these two assholes can join us.”

“Marvin, how dare you,” Schneep said, mock-offended. “At least be more creative in your insulting us.”

“No.” The two mini-groups merged together to form the main group once again. “So what’re you two talking about?”

“Chase is worried that hand-holding makes a couple,” Schneep tattled.

“Bullshit,” Marvin stated. Jackie went “yeah!” in the background. JJ frowned at the use of language, but nodded. “What makes a couple is the kissing. And romantic interest in each other, which leads to the former.”

“You say, having not been on a date in at least five months,” Jackie muttered.

“Shut your stupid face, you...lovely person.” Marvin pulled his wand out of his pocket and twirled it, like he did when he was nervous. “We’ve all been kinda busy lately.”

“Yeah...that’s true,” Jackie sighed. “But maybe if you went out more, you could find someone you could go out with. Just once, if a commitment isn’t your thing right now.”

Marvin frowned. “Why in the wide world of wingmen would I go on a date once deliberately?”

“A night of fun?” Schneep suggested.

“With a complete stranger that I have no interest in? No. I need to have some intrigue in whoever they end up being.”

“None of you are gonna get anywhere with him,” Chase said. “He doesn’t get one-night stands.”

“Damn right I don’t! There’s no point!”

And it just seems improper, JJ signed. If you aren’t going to court someone, don’t approach them at all.

“Marvin! You have an ally!” Jackie gasped. 

“Good. Finally, someone who agrees with me.” Marvin held up his hand and, after a moment of figuring out, JJ high-fived it. “Yeah! There we go, you got it!”

Jackie checked the time on his phone. “Alright, it’s starting to get a bit late. If we want to get enough time at the fair, we’re gonna have to book it to the eastern side.”

They didn’t actually run the whole way there, despite Jackie wanting to. By the time they got to the fair the sun was starting to set. They bought tickets and headed inside, where the Ferris wheel and the roller coaster towered over the smaller rides and the carnival games. It was a weekday, but it was one of the first days the fair was open, so the fairgrounds were crowded but not packed.

Chase gasped. “Games. We can do the games first.”

You do realized they’re all rigged, right? JJ asked.

“Who cares? They’re fun! Games now.”

Soon, the others started to suspect that the reason Chase was so eager to play games was because he knew he would win every time. The dude was scarily good. A combination of sheer luck, skill, and fuck-it-let’s-take-a-chance-ness led to many more victories than the others, something Marvin and Schneep immediately called him out for.

“You are cheating, I am sure of it!” Schneep huffed, folding his arms.

“Nah, just have a knack for it. And, in this case, practice.” Chase tossed one of the wooden balls back and forth while he waited for the carnival worker to hand him his prize. “Ya gotta aim for a bit above the spot where the third jug sits on top of the other two, then throw hard. It’s a bit of an arc.”

“No, you’re a cheater,” Marvin asserted, muttering darkly.

“Aw, c’mon! Here, will this make you less salty?” Chase accepted his stuffed prize from the worker, then handed it right over to Marvin. “I got it for you! You like cats.”

Marvin glared down at the plushie. “You’re lucky it has a cute face,” he said.

“See?!” Chase smiled. He was actually having a good time. It was a good change of pace from the park.

Eventually, everyone had a prize except for JJ. They were running out of games to play, but then Jackie spotted one of those ‘find the ball under the shuffling cups.’ “Hey guys, you up for that one?”

JJ brightened. I’m actually quite skilled at those!

“Well, then, let’s go!” Jackie pulled him over, the others in tow.

The carnival worker was calling out the rules of the game. “You get one, you win one of these lovely roses, you get two in a row, you win one of these tiny fellows here, and you get three in a row, you win one of these adorable penguins! Step right up, step right up!”

“Hey!” Jackie waved to get the worker’s attention. “We want to play!”

“Well then, young sirs, the rules are simple. Keep your eye on the ball, see right here, right here, it’s under the middle cup. Now watch as I take the cup this way, then that, then this and oh look at that! It’s goin’ fast, it’s goin’ fast don’t lose it don’t lose it! Now, which one is the ball under?”

Jackie was fairly sure he knew where it was, but he turned to JJ anyway. “So, which one?” he asked.

JJ bit his lip, then reached forward to point at one of the cups...only for the worker to slap his hand away. “I’m sorry sir, please don’t touch the cups. To prevent tamperin’, see? Just tell me.”

JJ looked a bit stunned at the worker’s aggressive tone. But he signed It’s under the left one.

“Excuse me?”

“He says it’s under the left one,” Marvin jumped in.

“...ah, I see.” The worker lifted up the cup to reveal the ball. “Seems you were right. Do you want to try again?”

The boys glanced uneasily between each other. The worker’s tone had dropped from the polite-carnival talk to one that was a bit...short. She was also talking much slower than she was before, drawing out the vowel sounds. “He can hear you perfectly fine,” Chase said. “He just can’t talk.”

“Mmm...I see...” The worker pursed her lips. “Do you want to try again?”

They all nodded. The worker was silent this time as she shuffled the cups, faster than before. When she stopped, she looked at Jackie. “Which one is the ball under?”

Jackie had a vague idea where, but he wasn’t sure. “JJ, do you know?”

The left one again, JJ signed, less enthusiastically.

“The left,” Jackie translated.

The worker frowned as she revealed the ball under the left cup. “You boys aren’t cheating, are you? Those weird gestures seem like symbols.”

Marvin laughed bitterly. “Yeah, they’re symbols alright. They stand for words. Do you not know how sign language fucking works? He’s telling us the answers ‘cause he’s the best one at it. Now let’s do this one more time.”

The worker shuffled the cups impossibly fast. Once more, she asked Jackie where the ball was. This time, he had no idea, and just looked at JJ. JJ, in turn, stiffened a bit, eyes hardening. It’s under the right one, though I wouldn’t put it past her to sneak it up her sleeve.

“Right,” all the boys said in unison.

The worker reluctantly lifted up the rightmost cup to show the ball sitting underneath. “Congratulations,” she said dully. “You win one of the big prizes. What color do you want?”

Turquoise, JJ signed. “Turquoise,” Jackie translated.

They walked away from the booth in silence. After a few moments of walking, Marvin said, “I could totally put a curse on her.”

“No,” Jackie said firmly.

“Just one little spell. She can lose her voice for a week.”

JJ shook his head, then tucked his prize under his arm so he could use his hands to sign. Revenge is never the best answer. 

“It’s what she deserves!” Marvin snarled. “She was making that difficult on purpose. I saw her, she was going much slower with the customers before us. JJ, I’m so absolutely sorry on her behalf, cause god knows she’s not gonna fucking apologize.”

It’s okay, JJ insisted. Believe it or not, I’ve faced worse, especially in my day. They were much less friendly back then.

“I am sure you are not using that word in the correct meaning,” Schneep mumbled.

Marvin shoved his hand into the pocket containing his wand. “One hex. Come on. Just one. I won’t even make her ears fall off or anything.”

Everyone refused to let Marvin curse the carnival worker, and he reluctantly relented. At this point, they’d finished with the games, and all that was left were the rides. They took turns, one or two of them sitting out to watch the accumulated prizes while the others spun and flew and then stumbled off the rides. After trying most of the rides out, they took a snack break for ice cream and cotton candy.

“I think the Ferris wheel is the only one left,” Jackie said. “Unless we want to catch that sideshow thing. There’s supposed to be magicians—”

“Fake,” Marvin interrupted.

“—clowns, animals, and they advertised a knife-thrower—”

Schneep nearly choked on his ice cream. “No.”

“Okay, got it. No show then.” Jackie nodded. “But I’m not too sure about the Ferris wheel. I know at least one of us is afraid of heights.”

“Yeah, uh, me.” Chase bit his lip. “But I think I’ll be fine if I don’t look over the edge. Unless someone else doesn’t want to go on it, then I’ll stay off with them.”

“I’m good,” Jackie said. “Schneep? Marv? Either of you scared of heights?” Both of them shook their heads. “Alright. JJ?”

JJ signed, A bit, but after all these dizzy rides, I’ll take something calm like the Ferris wheel, if you please.

“Alright. Guess we’re going on the wheel, then!”

Night had truly fallen by this point. The Ferris wheel wasn’t exceptionally tall, but it still rose above everything else in the fair, providing a fantastic view of the colored lights below. Instead of having the traditional two-person seats, this wheel had booths that could fit up to eight people, so all the boys fit into one just fine. The wheel turned, and the booth turned with it. Chase squirmed, resolutely not looking over the side. Jackie and Marvin did the exact opposite, practically leaning out of the booth to look down below.

JJ tapped Schneep, signing something real quick. Schneep nodded, then yelled “Can you two stop that?! You are going to fall out of the fucking side, and you are making Jamie nervous.”

“Oh, sorry.” Jackie sat back down.

“Aww,” Marvin groaned, but pulled back into his seat. “I hope you know I do this for you, JJ.”

JJ smiled. Thank you, it’s appreciated. And I’m sure your body feels the same way, having narrowly avoided a fall to great injury.

“Nah, I would’ve been fine.”

The wheel stopped. Their booth was right at the top. “Oh, fuck,” Chase muttered, covering his eyes with his hands.

“You know, you didn’t have to come,” Jackie said quietly. “We would’ve been alright letting you stay down on the ground.”

Chase peeked between his hands. “I know. But...it’s really nice up here. Quiet. And with just you guys. As long as I ignore the distance from the ground, I’m good. You’re my friends, you know, and you make everything better.”

“Oh, Chase,” Marvin gasped. “That’s...really sweet!”

“What? Didn’t think we where friends?”

“It’s...always nice to be reminded.” Marvin smiled softly.

Well then consider this your reminder, Marvin! JJ wiggled his mustache happily. I consider you all my friends, maybe even family. You are all wonderful people and I love having you in my life!

“Nooo, stop.” It was hard to see in the dark, only lit up by the lightbulbs on the Ferris wheel, but it was possible that Marvin was actually blushing.

“You know what? I love you guys.” Jackie grinned. “Not afraid to admit it! Best friends I’ve ever had.”

Schneep cleared his throat. “Yes, I feel the same. You are all great people, and I am fortunate to have met you. I...love you as well.”

“Aaaahck!” Marvin appeared to be trying to fold into himself. “Too much love! Fatality!”

Chase chuckled. “Marvin! Accept our love!”

We love you, Marvin! JJ signed eagerly. Now you have to say it back!

Marvin made a strange sort of groaning exhale before inhaling deeply, calming down. “Yeah...I—I love you guys too. God, I love you guys so much. You should all know that.”

“There we go!” Jackie said, triumphant. “Marvin, you are, truly, the emotionally constipated one. And I thought Schneep was the worst.”

“Excuse me?!” Schneep gasped. “I assure you I am very love-sharing. I just do not use words too much because they are complicated.”

“Understandable,” Chase shrugged. “I can barely speak half the time, and I was born in English.”

I thought you were born in Ireland, JJ signed, amused.

“Oh, you know what I mean!”

The Ferris wheel started lowering, stopping and starting as it let passengers off. The boys stepped out of the booth and onto land once again.

JJ yawned. I must say that I’m rather tired after all this. I think it’s time we go home.

“Yeah, I’m starting to feel it,” Jackie agreed.

“You all are weak!” Marvin countered. “I’m good for another couple hours.”

“Watch you crash immediately upon entering your room,” Chase laughed.

“Oh, shut up.”

“I think JJ is right,” Jackie said. “It’s time to go home.”

Schneep nodded. “Yes, I could stay up longer, but I have morning shift tomorrow so I should not push my luck. I will see you all later?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Course, dude!”

“Definitely.”

Count on it!

With that, they left the fair. Eventually they split up, each heading their own separate ways until they eventually got to wherever they were staying that night. Some went to sleep immediately, some stayed up a bit later, but eventually they all went to bed.

And when they decided to do it, none of them had trouble for once.

[maskydoo-old]

Nightmare Neighbors 5

(I’m writing out scripts for upcoming storytime style youtube videos, and posting what I have here. Note that this is a true story. Feedback is welcome.)

Ok, so we’re several videos in now, and if you’re just jumping in – hi. You should probably go watch these to get caught up.

But the TLD…W version of this is:

Moved into nice house in supposedly nice neighborhood. Oops crazy neighbors. Boyfriend is away, small lady alone and unguarded. Ambushed! Insane troll logic. I’m too tired for this. Crazy up to 11. Humans need mute buttons. Reddit to the rescue! They’re watching me…

Was that a helpful catch up?

Probably not. Go watch my other videos.

I worked hard on those.

It didn’t take long for the neighbors’ harassment to become a regular thing. Whenever I’d be outside, leaving to work or going home, the Loony and Toony Feckwad, both of them now, would be outside to scream their insults.

They weren’t even pretending to have a complaint anymore. It was just yelling abuse.

Toony mostly stuck to repeating his usual lines. I’m a this, I’m a that, I’m all kinds of things I can’t say if I want to keep my videos PG. I’m heinous, a term he probably got from a word-a-day calendar. I’m a psycho, yeah, look who’s talking. And I’m ugly, because…. That matters, I guess.

Loony was more involved. She wasn’t more creative with her insults, since she probably didn’t know any more words than Toony, but she sounded less like she was reading off a script. She’d jump around like a monkey, lunging towards me only stopping at my property line because of the video camera at her face. And she’d direct her screaming at me, not about me like Toony.

I wouldn’t say anything. Not one word. I just quietly recorded on my phone and saved the evidence.

Unfortunately, my phone was kind of crap and with all the wind and car noise, it was hard for it to catch what they were saying clearly, and harder still to prove how much of it was directed at me. I couldn’t really do anything until I had something usable.

I could hear their screaming loud and clear, whether I wanted to or not – I had no choice, but when I’d play back the recording…

(indistinct sound)

Loony and Toony were even harassing me in broad daylight now. I suppose the lack of consequences for their actions so far emboldened them.

But on the matter of daylight… let’s go back to how they called me ugly.

I’m no beauty queen and I never claim to be. And, I’m fine with that. I don’t really care too much. Looking good is nice, but I don’t see why it should be so valued over anything else about me. I do not care.

It’s just… they don’t really have a lot of room to talk in that department. And as I was seeing them in the light of day for the first time in some while… well… a few things stood out.

The pair were always pretty thin for their height, but now they were looking more gaunt than ever. Even at a distance, their skin looked dry and cracked over their sunken faces. Loony in particular was looking uncomfortably leathery.

Aside from Loony’s orange spray-tan, their skeletal faces were missing color, not just light but pale. The only thing breaking it up were the angry red sores they were collecting. Loony’s long bleached hair was wiry as long as I knew her, but now it was visibly missing patches, like fistfuls have been falling out… or pulled out. Toony looked like he was losing hair too.

And the eyes, those crazy eyes. They were more bulging and wild than ever, with harsh dark circles beneath like they slept even less than I did.

It was apparent that they were seriously neglecting their health and hygiene. Their bodies were deteriorating as much as their mental state.

And that wasn’t all they neglected. It wasn’t even a matter of mowing anymore. Their yards, front and back, got to be completely overgrown with weeds, and dead trees were left standing and ready to fall.

So yeah, definitely the kind of people with such pride in their lawns they’d be mad over dog poop and trash from the wind, huh?

The fading fake flowers they had strung over their ground floor windows, tacky as they definitely were, showed the at least cared about appearance once - but clearly something changed that.

On the advice of the lovely and supportive people of /r/letsnotmeet, I started reporting incidents with my crazy neighbors, Loony and Toony Feckwad, to the police.

Now, it’s not that I cared what these people thought, it wasn’t that they were hurting my feelings. The problem is that to do this, they’d have to be actually crazy, so there was no sense to their actions.

I wasn’t calling the cops because I took the neighbors’ words personally. It’s not like they hurt my feelings or anything. I really and truly do not care what these people think. They’re jerks, why would I value their opinion?

What I DID care about is that these people were targeting me for harassment in what was now a continued pattern of escalation over time. These people were undeniably hostile and completely irrational.

I couldn’t predict how far they might go or if they might ever become destructive towards my property or even violent towards me. Irrational people do not act rational.

So I figured the best option was to get the police involved sooner rather than later, before matters could get truly out of hand. And /r/letsnotmeet agreed.

I made sure the police were aware of the situation, and made reports, but nothing much came of it – yet. They didn’t even go talk to the Toony that time. Fine by me, this is what I expected. that’s about what I expected.

The important thing was getting police familiar with the situation, and getting the a police report on file.

There would be a LOT of police reports.

The thing is, it wasn’t just me they’d go after. In these events, they’d randomly start screaming at eachother, too. They’d scream, she’d threaten to leave him, he’d alternate between worshiping the ground she walked on and calling her a the same things he was just calling me. Then they’d go back to screaming at me again.

It was sometimes unclear who they were verbally attacking one moment to the next. They’d switch without warning.

I don’t know what was going on, but it was clear they did not have a healthy relationship. And really, how could they? They’re not healthy people, physically or mentally.

I might even feel sorry for their for their apparent marital struggles if they hadn’t decided to drag me into it.

Ya know, it’s a good idea for partners to spend time together, share common interest, get a hobby together. Just. Maybe make sure that hobby isn’t harassing the smallest neighbor you can find?

But f- what I do I know - I’m no couple’s therapist.

(Take your misery and give it to someone else meme)

I’m no mental health professional, so I couldn’t like diagnose these people or anything. But there was clearly something going on here psychologically, and worsening all the time. Maybe related to substance abuse, maybe not.

So one night I got home at 11 at night and once again there they were. 

I saw them when I pulled into my driveway. I would  have just parked in my garage, but I drove the wrong vehicle for that, and it was already full. So I had no choice but to park in my driveway.

I just won’t look at them, won’t say anything-

L: “ARE YOU PLAYING A GAME?!”

I never know why Luna says that. She was jumping around all crazy right at the property line. It looked like she was going to come at me, but she stopped when I held my phone up.

L: “Yeah, start recording B-, F- you!”

So, they knew they were being recorded, and STILL did this.

T: “I don’t see how anybody could possibly be as psychotic as that F- rotten C-”

If he was talking about Loony, I would have agreed. But no. He meant me.

This is where it got weird. Well, weirder anyway.

Luna called me something new, a D-boy. As in, male genitalia boy and then yelled some intelligible accusation at Toony.

I don’t know why Luna suddenly was calling me this now. I’m pretty clearly a woman.

I guess she thinks accusing people of being transgender is supposed to be some kind of scathing insult but like, there’s nothing wrong with being trans anyway. So… all she was really doing was demonstrating her own bigotry, among all the rest of her character faults.

Toony yelled back at her.

Toony: “I’ve NEVER f-d that rotten s-t! I’d never possibly want any part of my body touching any part of that F-ing disgusting psycho f-ing c-’s body! Never!”

What the f--???

L: “Which psycho c- are you talking about?”

T: “Same one I just said a second ago! Maskydoo Surname at 8802 Illusion Drive! The f-ing rotten waste of skin!”

Whaaaaaat?

Is that what this is about? Seriously?! Where- where did this even come from???

I did not speak to these people. I did not like these people. And at this point, in the story, I didn’t ever know what these people’s names were!

I’m sure I was told their names at some point, but forgot. Which made calling the cops on them weird.

Me: “My neighbors are harassing me again.”

Cop: “Ok, I’ll send an officer out. What are their names?”

Me: “Frack if I know.”

The idea that I’d even want have anything to do with Toony was laughable, just on the face of it. Who. Would? And it so out of nowhere. I literally have no idea how Loony even got this at all. But it’s no good trying to rationalize irrational people.  

Toony’s strategy for proving his innocence and his devotion to Loony was to scream at me, or about me but still like totally at me, about how horribly unattractive I am.

I just. How does that seem like solution?

Like. Ok, say your crazy partner up and accuses you of cheating, and with someone you didn’t even speak to.

What do you do? What does a typical person do in this situation?

If your answer is to stalk this innocent third party and make a point of loudly screaming insults about how disgusting that person is in front of your crazy partner, then Toony I would like to remind you that I still have that restraining order and leaving a comment here would probably counts as a violation.

He could just stand up to his crazy wife. Correct her nonsense accusations. Or just dump her crazy donkey. But NO! NO! That would take balls! And if he had any of those, he wouldn’t be going after what he thinks are easy targets, short little ladies living alone.

And hey, Loony, Loony. Think about what you’re saying. You think I’m an ugly d-boy… and you also think your man wants me more than you… so… what does that mean about you?

Loony: “You better F-ing move c-!” As in, move out of my home. Sounded like a threat to me.  

Ok, so maybe at this point your bullshit meter is maxed out. There’s no WAY anyone acts like this. I’m just making this all up for… I don’t know… internet points. Well, I have the video!

It’s not great quality, like I mentioned before, but it’s something. So, like. Here you go. I stuck it at the end of the video.

Anyway, that recording was just enough for the cops to act on, so I gave them a call. As soon as I had the phone to my ear, the neighbors made themselves scarce.

See? No balls.

I told the police what was up and showed them the video, then they went over to have a chat with the neighbors. After some time, they came back and told me how it went.

The cop said that the neighbors were really belligerent when he was over there. Belligerent being his word. Apparently it wasn’t a pleasant exchange. The cop looked a bit tired now then he did when he arrived.

Amusingly, he said the neighbors were shocked and surprised they could actually be arrested for this sort of behavior. Maybe Toony didn’t expect his third person loophole to fail.  

How did this not occur to them?

The neighbors tried turning it into a complaint about my dogs.

Yes, because obviously that’s what this is about. My dogs, which they mentioned exactly ZERO times in their speeches about how terrible I am.

The cops weren’t buying it. They knew by now it was bogus. Why? Because they read the previous reports and were already aware of the situation.

See? This is why we document. Get that paper trail going early. Even if the police can’t do anything at the time, you now have an ongoing record.

The cop even called them out on the fact that they only complain about the dogs when my boyfriend wasn’t around. He said they stumbled a bit before unconvincingly trying to claim the dogs somehow acted different when my boyfriend was home.

Oh, my dogs weren’t the ones whose behavior changed.

The cops gave the Feckwads a stern warning STFU, and that was it

– for now.

So that was that for the night.

You’d think having police show up at your door to tell you to quit your shit would get you to, you know, quit your shit. That’s what the police and I were hoping for, that this would be enough to be the end of it.

But if these were reasonable people, well, none of this would have ever happened I the first place.

Instead, this kind of episode became the new normal.

I’d call the cops, the cops would tell them off, and they’d shut up for a short while, but they’d always pick up again. The only real change is they’d be slightly more careful about staying off camera.

They’d save their worst harassment for night time, when I’d get home from work, when it was too dark to see their faces on camera.

A bit bolder in the dark.

When it was warm enough, they’d sit in the garage to wait for me, and come out when they saw me pull into my driveway. If I saw their garage door open, I knew there was about to be trouble.

As it got colder, they started waiting for me by their kitchen window, the only window of their house with a clear view of my driveway. If I saw that was the only light on in their house, I knew it was because they were waiting for me and would rush out.

It made me dread just coming home at the end of the day.

And it was only getting worse.