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nulliustram-webfiction · 1 year ago

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Key Mates (Queerplatonic Psychics) - Chapter 1

Bzzzt… Bzzt… Bzzt…

Electrical buzzing rang near Anne’s ears. Electrodes had been stuck into her scalp through her thick, long hair. She did not like this. The hospital room was cold, impersonal, and scary to her thirteen-year-old eyes.

But she weathered it anyway, watching the doctors observe her readings on the machine she had been hooked up to.

“Okay, Anne, look over here.” A lab tech waved her over, showing her a flashcard with a green triangle on it. Anne zeroed in on it as the most colorful thing in the room. Usually, they turned the cards around so that only the blank back of the card was visible to her. They liked to think that she could see what was on the card even when she couldn’t see it.

Or maybe she was capable of that, and just hadn’t figured it out yet.

“What do you think?” Her mother asked, hovering by her bedside, “Is she…”

The doctor examining the machine’s screen nodded seriously, “She is definitely giving off strong ESP waves. Way more than the minimum requirement for a person to be classified as psychic. Strong for a preteen, too.”

Her mother squealed, tightening her grip on Anne’s shoulder as a pseudo-hug to not jostle the electrodes on her scalp. Anne’s chest was tight. Her eyes were wet. She didn’t want this. Why did this have to happen to her?

“You have a very lucky daughter.” The lab tech congratulated them, “Think I can get an autograph for when you’re famous, little lady?”

“I’d like to study this further.” The doctor added in, “We aren’t sure what her abilities are, either. Not any of the more stereotypical ones. Some sort of signal is being sent out to the world, but I don’t know what it’s meant to be doing. Do you want to pursue that option?”

There was silence. They were looking at her. Waiting for an answer. Anne hesitated. She could say no, and they could forget about this. It didn’t have to be a thing.

But the excitement lingered under her skin. The curiosity. She wanted to find out more. This was a part of her that she would never have the chance to look into more outside of this. So, she nodded.

A ripple of excitement spread through the room. Everyone exchanged looks of excitement.

“Yes, that’s great!” The doctor agreed hurriedly, not even trying to keep the glee out of his voice, “We can get you an empath appointment for next week. Our ESP department has very little to do and would love to help you on this journey.”

“Thank you.” Her mother told him gratefully, a strong arm wrapped around Anne, even as the lab tech helped peel off the electrodes from her scalp. Her hair would be greasy for the rest of the day, and she’d already taken a bath this morning. Great. Her mother was talking now, “What do we say, Anne?”

“Thank you.” She parroted. The doctor nodded and opened the door to help them leave.

“Aren’t you excited, Anne?” Her mother gushed, all aflutter from the possibility, “You’re a psychic! You can do all those magic tricks you’ve always loved so much!”

“Magic is for little kids, mom!” She whined, fastening her seatbelt clumsily, “The TV magicians aren’t even real.”

Everyone knew that actual psychics were too refined to go on skeevy cheap shows and be sellouts. They were the real deal, with abilities they honed with practice and dedication. And a little genetic luck. But, yeah, at first glance, they were pretty much the same, when you didn’t know the difference.

Anne wondered what it would be like to be able to bend something in half. Or feed herself cereal without having to make any physical movement. Or being able to read people’s minds?

That would… make this whole thing better.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like the idea of being a psychic. The abilities and all seemed cool. She wanted to go for it and figure out what kind of extra sense she had.

The issue was the attention. Psychics got a lot of attention. For absolutely nothing. And the very idea of having to be put through that was exhausting. She couldn’t fathom doing that forever. She hoped that she would get to have a normal life after this.

She’d been wrong. But she couldn’t have guessed how wrong.

“Okay, Anne, here is the interesting thing.” This new doctor who had put in more electrodes on her scalp and was now holding a tuning fork-like object near her, announced, “Most cases we get to look at closely give off waves in every direction, taking in information from all around them. You, on the other hand, have a more personalized target.”

“Huh?” She asked, taking a sip of the plain water she had been handed by the lab tech. They gave her water that was colored with different colors, but they all just tasted like plain water.

“That means your ESP abilities are in constant communication with another person.” She explained excitedly, “This is also known colloquially as ‘Soulmate Links’.” She said the words like they were a magic incantation. Anne wanted to throw up.

Who hadn’t heard of soulmates? Everyone loved the idea, whether as a psychic deal or not. And it was always, always, about love.

“I don’t do that.” She informed the doctor, stiffly.

“Of course you don’t.” The doctor soothed her easily, “You’re thirteen and all the boys have cooties. I understand. But don’t you want to meet them?”

“You can find this… person she’s been subconsciously communicated with?” Her mother asked, standing by Anne’s side as a stalwart anchor.

“Of course. Not many ESP signals in the world, so now that we’ve locked onto your specific signature, we should be able to trace your… soulmate, for lack of a better word.”

“But… I don’t do that.” Anne told them, a little bewildered, “I don’t have a soulmate bond. There’s no voice in my head, or strange tastes in my mouth, or a song that will never leave. I don’t have one.”

“That’s not how most one-person psychic connections go in real life.” The doctor corrected patronizingly, as if she had had a hundred people walk in with that same misconception, “Usually, it manifests in telepathy. Twins are very common for that, actually.”

“Well, I can’t do telepathy.” She told them seriously.

“I’m sure if you’re curious to see how it manifests, we can try our best.” The doctor replied, “But that will have to come after you tell us whether you wish for them to be found.”

Anne considered this, filled with the desire to prove to this person that she couldn’t possibly have a soulmate, and finally answered, “Yes, I would like to meet them.”

Her mother sighed, equal parts exasperated and fond, and Anne knew that she had figured out what was motivating her on this journey.

It took a month for it to happen.

This time, it wasn’t the doctors who arranged the meeting. It was a federal organization. Something about ESP research. They had taken over her case, and Anne’s mother had helped her fill out all the forms required to register her as a psychic, and then a month later, she was being led into a building with bright mint walls and cheerful posters.

There were reporters outside. They all wanted her picture. Her mother had ushered Anne inside before she could agree to their demands. Once the glass doors closed, the roar of the crowd was immediately muffled.

“Sorry about that.” One of the workers apologized, “They’re not usually so zealous about new psychics being discovered.”

“It’s because of the other half of the pair.” Another explained, not even looking Anne in the eye, “They’re… high profile. Even without being a psychic.”

High-profile. Anne gulped, already intimidated.

“Don’t be scared, kid. He’s a calm one.” The first worker smiled, noticing her discomfort, “You ready to meet them?”

This was it. Now or never.

Anne nodded, and they led them into a series of meeting rooms, where one had an OCCUPIED sign lit up above it. One small knock as a warning, and they threw the door open.

“Hello, Flynn.” Worker number 2 greeted cheerily, “How have you been doing?”

“It’s been fun, Ms. Leroy.” A high-pitched boy’s voice agreed, just from outside Anne’s field of vision. Sounds of movement, and squeaking of a couch, and then the voice spoke up again, “Have you found her?”

“Yes.” The first worker told him, making hand motions to urge Anne to step inside. She did, taking in the soft shag carpeting of the room, and the glass booth on the side that looking like a recording studio. And of course, the couch on the other end, where a boy was sitting.

Red hair, narrow glasses, wearing an oversized flannel jacket over a clashing green shirt. Anne didn’t recognize him, no matter how high-profile they claimed him to be.

So, she did the normal thing, and raised her hand towards him, “Hello. I’m Anne.” She announced.

He shook it, looking confused, “Flynn.”

There were no sparks. Nothing weird. Good.

“…You here because of the soulmate thing?” He asked, still shaking her hand. This was getting uncomfortable.

“No. I want to see what kind of powers we have.” Anne told him honestly.

The relief was evident in his face, “Oh, good. I wanna do that, too.”

Easier said than done, it turned out.

They went through all the common two-person psychic tricks. Telepathy, empathy, subconscious memory transmission, sensory exchange, even instinctual geolocation tracking. None of it came to them. They tried for days and weeks, and nothing came of it.

At least Flynn was a cool enough guy, she supposed. They had bonded over their shared frustration of not having superpowers when they had been promised superpowers.

“Okay, I’m calling it quits for today.” He announced, after another failed spoon-bending trick, “Can I go home, now?”

“Your driver is outside waiting to pick you up, so it should be okay.” One of the researchers told him, “Just grab your regular stuff from the locker, okay?”

Flynn nodded, crossing the room over to where the metal lockers were kept, tugging on his own before cursing. He patted his pockets, looking confused.

“What’s wrong?” Anne asked, following after him. He jumped a little, but turned nonetheless.

“I think I left my keys inside the locker.” He admitted.

Anne frowned, “Shucks, there should be a copy that could unlock it somewhere here, right?” She looked at the mess of unclaimed locker keys that had no owners, hung up beside the lockers awaiting owners, “I mean, this look pretty cheap. Should have a copied design, if we just try them enough…”

She plucked one out randomly and handed it to him.

Flynn inserted it into the lock apprehensively.

There was a second as he fiddled around with it. And then the lock popped open, easy as you please, revealing the mess of jackets and shoes and a bright pink keychain.

“Oh, hey, first try, how lucky is that?” Anne laughed. Flynn laughed with her.

None of the half dozen attendants overseeing them laughed. None of them said anything. There was only stunned silence on their part.

“What?” She asked, turning around to look at them.

“We need to test that out.” Maxine, the one Anne knew best, whispered in shock.

Anne didn’t understand. It wasn’t a big deal.

Scratch that, it turned out to be a very big deal.

After several hours of testing and retrying and perfectly replicating the tests, the researchers managed to give them a straight answer.

“Your psychic abilities are rather unique.” They explained, “It seems that you both can pick out a key with the same pattern that the other one is thinking of! Even if it the probability of there being a replica of that key, at all. Isn’t that fascinati- you don’t look very happy about that.”

They were both glaring at him, arms crossed over their chests.

“I was promised superpowers.” Flynn groused.

“This isn’t a superpower.” Anne finished.

Keymates is a slice-of-life story, and while the characters are thirteen in this opening chapter, they will quickly be aged up during the first arc. We plan to post it all on Tumblr, but in a significantly shorter format than what this pilot is. I just wanted to get the whole idea across.

Key Mates is still a pilot project. Soon a poll will be posted on this blog to choose which of my five pilots will be developed into a full series. It can be found here. If you want three extra chapters for this project (and all other pilot projects), they will be available upon donating to my ko-fi. Or joining any tier of my Patreon.

Consider reblogging to help me get more feedback. It helps more than you think.

#serial fiction #indie author #writers of tumblr #queerplatonic #psychics #light fantasy #soulmates #aromantic #(anne is aromantic)#aspec #sci fi #queer media

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iffeelscouldkill · 3 years ago

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Five Times That Park and McCabe Were Mistaken For a Couple

Summary: Despite what a lot of people assume, Jin-Seon Park and RJ McCabe are not a couple.

A/N: The spark of inspiration for this fic came a few months ago when I was on a Murderbot Diaries fic-reading kick. Specifically, I was reading some fics that had great queerplatonic vibes between Murderbot and ART, and it hit me that I really envision Park and McCabe's relationship in the same way: a closeness that most would probably parse as romantic, but isn't necessarily. And I suddenly really wanted to do a fic for them which contained a bunch of 'romantic' tropes, but in a non-romantic context.

Behold the result! I started writing this in May, though most of it was written over the past couple of weeks. It was originally a post-2.05.5 fic, but I sprinkled in some references to characters we meet in the second half of season 2; however, it wasn’t written to be compliant with the finale, so you can read it as a canon divergence AU, or maybe far future canon fic? Reader’s choice :D

Also, if I had £1 for every time I wrote a 5 Times fic starring RJ McCabe I’d have £2, but it’s weird that it happened twice.

Cross-posted to AO3

“So… are you my dad’s new datemate?”

RJ almost jumped out of their skin at the question, which came from a girl who looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, with long hair that was tied up in a high ponytail and had dyed blue streaks in it. Right, this was Shelly – Agent Park’s daughter. Agent Park had mentioned, when he invited them to drop by later that evening to pick up some annotated copies of documents connected to the Iris casefiles that he’d been working on at home, that his teenage daughter was staying over. Apparently she lived with her mother, but spent alternate weekends at her father’s place. RJ had been inwardly hoping not to bump into her; they weren’t great at interacting with teenagers.

“…Datemate?” they repeated, when Shelly continued to look at them expectantly. Agent Park was upstairs, looking for the promised files, and had left RJ standing awkwardly in the kitchen clutching a mug of green tea. RJ began to wish even more desperately that he would reappear.

Shelly flicked the end of her ponytail over one shoulder. “Yeah, y’know, his… special friend? Dating partner? Romantic interest?”

RJ spluttered at the assumption Shelly had made, based purely on walking in to find a strange person in her father’s kitchen. “We’re colleagues! I’ve – I’m here to collect some files, that’s all.”

As if going to their superior’s house hadn’t felt intrusive enough – Agent Park had issued the invitation completely nonchalantly, like it was a normal thing to do, but RJ had been self-conscious from the moment they’d stepped through the door – now here they were, being mistaken for his dating partner. (At least, a small part of their mind noted, it meant that Shelly thought they were old enough to be in a relationship with Agent Park. But that was an odd silver lining).

Shelly shrugged. “I know there’s probably an edict somewhere forbidding workplace relationships among Agents of the Republic, but I just thought… I dunno. He never invites anyone over. I guess I was hopeful that he’d finally found someone new.”

RJ sipped at their tea to try and control their expression. Inappropriate didn’t even begin to cover this conversation (also, there were three edicts forbidding workplace relationships among IGR Agents) – but mostly RJ was baffled and fascinated by how uninhibited Agent Park’s daughter seemed. Having got to know him a little better over these past few weeks of working day and night on the Iris casefiles, they knew he wasn’t just the staid paper-pusher they’d initially pegged him as, but they’d still never imagined that his daughter would be so… lively. Irreverent.

As the silence stretched out, RJ offered, “I think he’ll be back down soon. He was just looking for the documents he needs to give to me.”

“It’s fine,” Shelly said, not seeming concerned. “I was just curious – I mean, something had to have happened to make him start liking his job again.”

RJ’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?” they asked, and almost immediately regretted the question. It wasn’t any business of theirs, even if it was to do with the job. They kept an ear out for Agent Park’s approach, almost guiltily hoping he wouldn’t walk back into the kitchen at that moment.

Shelly appraised RJ for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to confide in them, then said, “You know, working longer hours, actually seeming happy for a change… He didn’t hate it before, but I think he was bored. And tired. He always changed the subject when I brought it up, but then today, when I asked how work was? He actually smiled.”

Okay, so RJ could kind of see where the ‘new relationship’ conclusion had come from. They thought back, trying to determine whether they’d noticed the radical transformation in their boss that Shelly was describing. But it was hard to say, because at the beginning they’d been caught up in the excitement of their first real case, and trying to get up to speed with things as fast as was humanly possible. Plus, they knew now that their early impressions of Agent Park didn’t represent the whole picture.

And Agent Park did smile, sometimes – just the other day they’d caught a glimmer of amusement on his face as they complained about the crabbed handwriting that Clark had used to submit her latest report, wondering aloud if they should get a specialist from the Decryption Unit in to decipher it. (RJ couldn’t lie – it felt pretty good to make their typically-stoic boss crack a smile).

Read the rest on AO3!

#TSCOSI #RJ McCabe #Jin-Seon Park #Park & McCabe #queerplatonic relationship #QPR #fluff #5 Times #5 Things fic #Shelly (yes she's Park's daughter in this even though I know it doesn't quiiiite fit)#but honestly I'm not convinced there is an explanation for Shelly that makes total sense xD #fic

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nostalgic-pancakes · 4 years ago

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Room 73- Chapter 2/8

Ghosts are met, friends are made, D&D is planned and Patton remains a fashion icon.

Pairings (Chapter specific now because this is how we do): Sibling-y Moceit, Platonic Loceit (eventual romance), platonic intruality (eventual queerplatonic), sibling-y Analogical, brotherly Creativitwins (Remrom don’t interact please)

Read on AO3

Word count: 2869

Warnings: Dissociative episode, minor panic attack, bullying implied, foster system mention, small description of cafeteria food (I think that’s it? tell me if there’s more)

Other notes: Ask me questions about this au! I like those! (I also take writing prompts)

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It turns out, the guy in a skirt’s name is Janus, like the Roman god, not Janice, like the stereotypical seventies name. This is something Logan only knows because apparently he said Janus’s name wrong, and the other felt the need to correct him. Does this happen frequently? Or is this just another one of those ‘Logan-Things’? He doesn’t really know the difference with new people, and Halry-Dove secondary is just full of those at the moment.

Well, Janus is in his next class, AP Chemistry, so he may as well get to know him better, so that the ‘new person’ designation can be removed, for better or for worse.

(please please please be better, he doesn’t know if he could go through that again)

The spotify playlist in his ear has gotten to the next ad cycle, and the ad voices are so filtered and saturated, that he has to take his earbud out. Logan’s twin bops his shoulder when he takes off the blue earbud, and shrugs a shoulder.

Are you okay? Virgil’s asking. He thinks he probably is. This much nervousness is normal because he can calm himself and think about other things to calm himself. He is, most probably, fine. Nodding to Virgil, who pulls the corner of his mouth up into a grin, Logan enters the chemistry classroom and his brother keeps walking to the next room- Creative Writing, with that one red person that was in front of him on the bus.

The chemistry classroom is almost exactly what he expected it to be, albeit a little less full than he thought. He’s not early, so he knows that this is the full class strength of about five. He rationalises this as the fact that Haley-Dove Secondary is a small school and will therefore not have many chemistry pupils.

Janus is there, occupying a seat with two extra chairs on either side, clearly meant for other people. However, the other people in this class have all sat down, and Nico Flores is already on one side. Logan stands, having no clue what to do.

“Logan? Logan?” he snaps awake from his ‘Think-Logan’ state and tries to find the source of the voice. It’s Janus, who’s pointing to the unoccupied seat on his left, motioning for him to sit down. Is this a trick?

This could be like before. Don’t.

That part of his mind has a point. But-

This could not be that.

The second part of Logan’s brain is louder. He sits next to Janus.

“Hi Logan!” says Nico, opening faer pencil case and digging around for their hexagonal drawing tool. Right. Organic Chemistry. He’d forgotten that. Logan doesn’t think he packed it, but he may as well check.

Nope, he did not pack the hexagonal drawing tool. For all intents and purposes, he is fucked. He hears the slamming locker from outside.

Suddenly, there’s a tap on his shoulder. He manages to resist the urge to flinch, and looks over at who tapped him. It was Janus, but Nico’s looking at him with a...friendly (?) expression, like the ones Virgil used to show to everyone when they were kids. Janus, however, has something in his hand- a hexagonal drawing tool. An extra, as shown by the fact that he has another, a bit more used than the one being offered to him, but a hexagonal drawing tool nonetheless.

“Are you sure?” he asks, and Nico looks at him as if he just said that he planned to inhale the sun someday. (that would be interesting, but he would die so no) Janus nods, a bit slowly, but it seems genuine. Mom usually thinks that kind of thing is, and she’s almost always right when it comes to this kind of thing. So Logan takes the hexagonal drawing tool, just barely not stuttering through a ‘thanks’.

Throughout the class, everyone seems to refer to their hexagonal drawing tools as ‘hexa’s’ or simply ‘tools’. Since both of these phrases are simpler to say than ‘hexagonal drawing tool’, Logan ends up sticking with tools. Janus keeps complaining, however, of an itch in the back of his neck coming from the seat behind him. Nico says the same, however not as frequently. Logan doesn’t feel it himself, though he refrains bringing up that it might be because both of them are wearing clothings which touches the backs of their necks, like the back of Janus’s cape (?) and Nico’s pink turtleneck. This goes on for most of the lecture, though the complaints taper out by the last ten minutes of the hour.

Most of the class had left the room by the end of the class period, though he and Janus had volunteered to stay behind to clear up the supplies and wipe the board. That’s when it happened.

“Hh...hisss-- HI-HissssSSss”

Janus had whipped his head around the second he heard the noise, cape swishing along with him and making the strange ‘ffwpph’ noise. Logan himself only turned around once Janus’s eyes widened, indicating that the object of his surprise was a little behind Logan, and a bit to his left.

Except, there wasn’t anything there. Not really. Not in a way that there should be something.

Instead, it looked like what the world did near a fire- a bit swirly, as if rippling in the air. Like what would happen if TV static had something resembling a physical form, except maybe without the unsettling ant feeling.

It kept hissing, like the TV static Logan hates so much, and based on what Janus’s facial expression looks like, both of them hate it. And neither of them know what to do, so they bolt. Well, it’s more of Janus snapping out of his stupor, grabbing Logan’s wrist and sprinting out into the hallway, but they manage to exit nonetheless.

It doesn’t really catch up to him, not really, not until Janus is waving with a shaky smile and getting off his stop, gripping a boy in a suspender skirt’s hand tightly enough for that hand to become even paler, and Virgil’s booped his arm for the fifth time in one bus ride asking if he’s okay, do you want water, how’re you feeling? and answering monosyllabically to each inquiry.

It really doesn’t hit him until he’s home and in his pyjamas frantically googling what he saw, because he saw it it wasn’t fake someone else did too and--

there’s a hand, Virgil’s hand, entering is vision and--

Wiping away a tear off of his face. Logan was apparently crying, then. Not a new sensation, but a markedly unpleasant one, either way. Virgil looks scared again, like he did back when--

No. Not today.

Logan takes his twin’s hand, tries to make it a hard touch that Virgil can feel, rather than something intangible. Logan’s head starts to clear with the more gentle touches- Virgil’s hand on his face, later on top of the one gripping his own, Mom running her seamstress hands through his hair and Amma Holding him from behind, keeping him upright, steady.

Why was Janus so nice?

Why would he lend Logan the tool? Does he want something?

What was that?

Was he dreaming?

Has he finally gone mad?

Was it real?

Logan doesn’t know. He doesn’t know and he hates the not-knowing so much because what if he makes a mistake? What if something goes wrong and he messes it up because he didn’t know enough, wasn’t good enough--

“Lo, what happened?” he asks, and Logan wants to tell him, but he’s scared that maybe he’ll be wrong, that Virgil will think it’s false. Virgil moves his hands up from Logan's, to his shoulders.

Wait. This entire town is a hive for supernatural activity.

The hands on shoulders becomes a hug.

Virgil’s best friend is a witch. Why wouldn’t his twin believe him?

You are worthy, Logan. You are worthy. You are worthy.

Logan steels himself. “I saw something, today.” he says, catching Virgil’s interest immediately.

“There was a...something? In the chemistry room? And...it hissed.” His twin furrows his eyebrows- not disbelieving, but contemplating, like he does with that tabletop game he likes so much. He’s thinking about it, properly.

Finally, Virgil looks up and bonks his forehead against Logan’s. “I’ll talk to Hildi and see if she knows anything, okay?”

Logan nods freverently, flopping onto the other side of the bed. Virgil laughs a bit, and pulls the duvet over Logan’s curled form, and Logan grins right back. It’s not at full strength like it’d be if he was happy, per se, but it’s getting there for sure.

Virgil smiles a bit wider at his twin’s face, and huddles right next to him. “Hey, can I tell you about the red guy in creative writing? His name’s Roman.” and he does. Roman seems nice- Logan hopes that that’s how Janus could be, maybe.

Right now Logan doesn’t need to worry about maybe-friends or scary things in chemistry classrooms, because his twin’s right here. What could possibly be there to worry about?

…

Patton thinks that this first week of school is going pretty well, thanks! His classes are all with people he knows at least to a surface level, nobody’s been outright mean so far (or even mildly mean, which is...new) and Janus made a new friend!

(Patton’s always been good at making friends, just not keeping them) (He always needs to leave, eventually. Who could want a fucked-up kid who’ll age out in a few years anyway?)

So all things considered, classes have been good and Remy and Emile have been nice so far! (even though that could change, stop getting COMFORTABLE!) Patton’s new friend, Remus, has also been pretty cool, even if he’s different from any other friends that Patton has had in his life.

Case in point, right now.

“Pat! Pat! Didja know that some frogs can FREEZE in the winter?” Is the conversation opener that Remus thinks is a good idea, dashing over to Patton’s side as soon as he has his food in tray and trying to get seated without his skirt flying up. It’s a pink poodle skirt today, with dark blue constellations on it, and it’s till his mid-shins, so Patton had thought that he wouldn’t need leggings or something.

Well, as Janus seems to be communicating through his eyes, bad luck.

Patton finally manages to get his skirt into the seat-slot and sit down, and puts up his smiley face again to face Remus, who almost seems to be vibrating. It makes the smile on his face a lot less fake-feeling.

“Yeah, Remus, I did. Even if they’re blood doesn’t freeze over, they’re mostly frozen for months!” and Remus visibly lights up again, glad to have engaged in his tangent. Does nobody else ask him this kind of thing?

The other people at the table end up joining in the conversation, though diverting it a bit to stay out of ‘disturbing’ and more into ‘mildly strange’. Logan, one of the other new kids, is talking to Janus about the whole point of the Trolley Problem, which Patton makes a point to look up once he gets back. He wants to know. Virgil and Remus’s brother, Roman, seem to be bickering as usual (whatever this new ‘usual’ is), but without any bite.

Lunch is going fine, whiling away the minutes eating school food which looks like it was made out of clay but tastes fine, at least.

“Okay, so when I came out, I realised that on the off-chance of me ever having a kid, I’d give them the most neutral name possible, so that it wouldn’t be too big of a deal.” started Virgil.

“Yeah, same here- I’ve never had to come out, but I just think that it’s such a terrible idea to subject anyone to hating their name, especially as a kid!” that’s him.

The conversation continues that way for a while, flitting from topic to topic, until Roman makes a joke ragging on the fact that Voltron took the definition of Paladin too far to make sense anymore.

“Hey! Why do paladins wear chainmail?” oh hey, Patton knows this one! It’s from some random D&D jokes page.

“Because it’s hole-y armor!” he replies, and immediately Virgil’s looking at the two of them like he has an idea. Logan’s not necessarily exasperated, per se, but he's clearly seen that look a couple of times before.

“Do you guys play Dungeons and Dragons?” Virgil asks, already fishing through his backpack for a notebook, half-eaten tray forgotten. Roman nods vehemently, like he was just looking for a reason for this conversation to come up, but not before hesitating a bit too long, deer-in-headlights style. It takes Remus elbowing his brother to calm him down and nod.

Virgil and Janus haven’t seemed to notice, but Logan’s looking at Roman strangely. Before Patton can say anything, Virgil’s found a blank page in his book and is jotting things down while talking really quickly, eyes gleaming like Remus’s when he finds something particularly gross to scar the entire Advanced Bio class (including Patton) for life. This one is more excited than scheme-y though.

“Okay so sincewealllike--”

“Slow down, Jack and Sullen, we have no idea what you’re saying.” quips Roman, and Virgil seems to gain a lot more awareness at that, proceeding to slow his roll, the gleam in his eyes never fading.

“Okay, Janus, Remus Patton- do any of you know what D&D is?” Patton nods, making himself grin a little wider, Remus sighs in affirmative, and Janus replies with a simple ‘‘Yes, and?”, while trying to look dignified, even though he’s bouncing his knee like mad. It’s adorable, really. Virgil starts grinning, something that Patton’s never seen and automatically makes his heart soar a bit like Flappy Bird.

“Okay, so we all know D&D and probably can learn how to play it, right? Right. How about we tried playing a campaign together?”

Roman squeals and Remus whoops, chattering on about not having played in ages and looking for a way to get back into it. Logan smiles, pushing his glasses up as Janus slowly unfurls his grin as they all make their affirmations. Virgil is positively bouncing in place now, eyebags no longer the most prominent thing on his face in comparison to that smile, radiant and making everything around patton feel less fake.

Virgil waits till he’s calmed down a bir before glancing at his (frankly incomprehensible, what is that handwriting?) notebook, and starts throwing around ideas with his twin, Janus and Roman, who are perking up more and more by the second, while Patton and Remus lean a bit closer, feeling slightly amused. It’s a dangerous thing to think about, that he and Janus could actually become close to these people.

Nothing lasts forever, anyway.

…

Janus didn’t really want to be back in the chemistry room, especially after everything that had gone down last time, but he was a highschooler and subject to the construct of education and schedule-keeping like everyone else, so it didn’t seem like he had a choice.

Well, at least he had Logan, who had (maybe? probably.) become his friend in the past week of school, for at least however long Jnaus had here. He wasn’t a good kid, so probably not long.

Either way, chemistry class was going as normal. There was still an itch on the back of his neck, and Logan felt it too, sitting where Nico was last time, while faer sat where Logan did. Class went normally, with the two of them trying to keep their cool while class happened and hopefully able to get out before anything else happened (again). It made sense, that with his luck, that would not work out.

Once again, everyone else left as soon as the bell rang, and Logan and Janus were the only people left to clean up. Brilliant. Absolutely peachy. Delightful. Maybe he should stop snarking so much. Nah, it’s fine.

So he and Logan were clearing out supplies, packing their own things and wiping the board, hoping to god that the hissing thing wouldn’t come back, when they heard a voice.

“Hello?” What the fuck.

Logan looks back first, this time and sees the static thing again. Except, it’s not? Well, it is, but it’s like the static took on the form of a person, maybe a teenager from what the two of them can make out. And that teenager? Looks very, very confused. What a mood.

With Logan a little it frozen into place, it’s Janus who eventually walks up to the thing (person? What is his life anymore?), and pauses.

“Hello.” but there’s no reply.

“You heard that, right?” Janus turns back to look at Logan, only to see him holding up his phone, presumably recording the whole ordeal. Logan widens his eyes and starts grinning, the way he did when he showed Janus his tool, spray-painted blue by his mom and Virgil.

“Virgil is about to have such a ball with this.” he relies, a bit awestruck, and sends it to his twin, and someone named Hildi. On that note…

What the fuck is Janus supposed to tell Patton?

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #ts logan #ts patton #ts janus #tw bullying mention #tw foster care #tw food #do not repost #cursing #vee's writing #series: room 73

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arocharacteradvice · 5 years ago

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A minor plot point of my story involves the mc getting in a qpr with his aroace friend. I’ve thought a lot about making sure not to break the aroace chara’s boundaries, but I’m slightly worried I might be overlooking the mc’s desires? If the aroace chara doesn’t want to do things like have sex/kiss but those are things the mc would want from him, would it be wrong to put them together? The aroace chara encourages the mc pursuing other people for those things. Is that good enough?

So, I’m not going to make a definitive statement as to whether putting these two characters into a qpr would be ‘wrong’ or not. I also can’t give much specific guidance as I haven’t read your story and this is a very nuanced topic. (Which isn’t your fault, I’m just explaining why my answers might seem vague) What I can do is give some pointers, and poise some questions of you that might help you figure out if this is a healthy dynamic.

I’ll be addressing the aro side of things obviously as this is an aro character advice blog, but you can go to ace blogs for more info on that, and to be honest most of the advice I’ll be giving can likely apply to both areas.

Ok so first off: You sound like you want to respect the aro character, and not have the mc pressure them, which is a very good start! But I feel like you may still be viewing the dynamic as one where mc wants something, the qp can’t give it, and his boundaries are a problem that need to be solved, just with another relationship in this case rather than ‘curing’ the aro or having them give in.To be honest this is probably on some level because the mc is the main character. As a writer, you tend to think in terms of your protagonist’s goals.

(also, as a note, if you were at all thinking about having the qp giving in and kissing the mc anyway, unless this is portrayed as very very negative, Don’t Do That for the love of positive representation)

Anyway! Please, please be clear in your writing that one person looking for a certain thing out of their relationship, and another person not looking for it, doesn’t mean the first person is hard done by and suffering horribly by compromising. It’s simply a matter of incompatibility in that area.

Especially when the situation with your characters is that one wants romance, and the relationship is queerplatonic. It’s an explicitly purely platonic relationship style! This isn’t a case of person A ‘overlooking’ their desires because of person B, this is a case of person A entering a relationship they know full well will Not be romantic, still feeling unsatisfied because it’s not romantic, and person B having to suggest solutions to something that isn’t technically a problem. Imagine getting frustrated with a waitress because they wouldn’t kiss you. Why would you expect them to? A qpr isn’t a romantic relationship with one ‘faulty’ partner. Don’t treat it as such.

(It’s a bit of a different situation with sex, as qprs can be sexual, but that’s not my area)

Sure, some qprs have more romantic coded elements, but they’re not an expectation. If you’re going to write a qpr, please understand that actions within them are on an equal playing field. kissing and having sex have no more inherent value than holding hands or watching a movie. It’s about what individuals want.

I’m also not trying to say that your mc doesn’t matter. Just that your bias could possibly be tipped towards him. He is compromising by not being able to kiss his qp, and the qp is probably compromising in a bunch of ways too. Maybe the qp wants to live together or get a dog or matching tattoos or go to heavy metal concerts together, and the mc doesn’t. There’s Stuff like that in all relationships, you just need to start also viewing romantic coded activities as Stuff, only with more cultural baggage.

On the topic of the mc having another partner: that sounds to me exactly like a compromise on the qp’s part. Did he go into this relationship wanting it to be polyamorous? Because it sounds like this is something he’s doing for the mc, especially as you say this is about the mc specifically having other partners, not the two of them as a couple becoming open. Even if the qp is enthusiastic about it, doesn’t mean it’s something he particularly wanted out of the relationship, just like the mc didn’t particularity want a non-romantic relationship.

I would also question you as to why the qp is enthusiastic, and whether that’s a character choice or something you’ve done to benefit the mc. Maybe examine whether you have a negative gut reaction to the mc not seeing someone else for kissing/sex, and if so, work on unlearning that. I’m not saying that in your specific situation, the qp must feel pressured or not good enough, but it does happen and it’s worth thinking about how aros would feel seeing a character they’re meant to identify with happily telling their partner to see other people for desires the aro can’t fulfill. I know I personally would feel uncomfortable with it unless it was really well written, as I’ve been in a similar situation myself.

Again, some people are fine with letting their partner do that kind of thing, or are polyamorous in the first place, but I would be very very careful about how you present it, (other aro blogs, and the qpr tag, may help) and consider whether it makes sense for the qp to feel this way based on context and their characterization.

I hope this hasn’t sounded too harsh. I’m very aware that you could have considered all this already, but I feel like I need to cover a lot of ground because I don’t know specifics about your characters and this is a stupidly complicated topic.

A few things to consider adding in or developing further:

Both partners entering or being allowed to enter other relationships. This might change the tone from ‘aros aren’t enough so my mc needs someone else to make up for it’ to ‘no one person has to fulfill either character’s desires!’.

Having the mc realise that he doesn’t actually don’t need to date someone else. Not in a way that reinforces toxic monogamy or the idea of soulmates, but presented as him just working through amatonormativity and decided he’s cool without kissing anyone.

Showing what both characters get out of the relationship, rather than just what the mc doesn’t get. For instance maybe there’s a show just the two of them are into, or the qp buys the coolest presents, or if one is home late the other always waits for them to start eating dinner. Just small things that present them as good for/happy with each other rather than focusing on the one area of incompatibility.

Showing why the qp wants to be in this relationship. I think this would help aro readers feel comfortable, as it’s kind of opt in for aros to date as opposed to alloromantics assuming they will, if that makes sense. We also, as a community, tend not to value our own goals and wants. Does he want that partner label to be able to easily explain what the mc means to him? Making that explicit would probably make him more relatable, and help stop aro readers projecting discomfort onto him. Explaining what makes the relationship fulfilling for him would also show that he doesn’t have to lower his expectations just because he’s not willing to be in a romantic relationship.

You don’t have to employ all or any of these ideas to make the relationship work, I just wanted you to have some options if you read my earlier advice on what not to do and though ‘heck, I did do that though’. You might also want to get some aro sensitivity readers to go through some later drafts of the story, though do be aware that some aros would be uncomfortable seeing an aro character in any kind of relationship. Not every aro will want to read what you write, but that’s ok so long as you consider those who will.

tl;dr: Don’t show the aro character’s boundaries as a hurdle, just a different relationship expectation than his partner. Consider why you’re writing the aro character the way you are, and take into consideration what they both enjoy about their relationship.

Good luck! And I’m so sorry for the long post!

- Mod Kaladin

#Anonymous #mod kaladin #long post #asks #qprs #aro

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alloaroworlds · 6 years ago

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I’ve spent this weekend putting together a mockup zine layout to try and get a handle on what it is we’re looking to make and what our size limitations are. This isn’t a formal sign-up post; I just want to give folks a break-down of where I think this project is going and what we need to consider.

While I suspect that the most use and promotion of this will be digital, I think a good goal is to create something we can release under a Creative Commons license so anyone can freely print it off and hand it out at events/meetings. I can make PDF versions suitable for professional printing (you take it to a print shop and have them print and saddle stitch it) and at-home printing (print double-sided, fold pages together, staple outside edge unless you have a really long stapler) in addition to an interactive PDF, so that’s not a problem, but it does impact how long this will be.

(My intention is to have a landing page on my WordPress site telling people how to print and bind it, along with any credits and contributor information we can’t fit in the zine itself, and a link to said page in the zine.)

The easiest-but-still-readable size for a document that’s going to contain some amount of text, I think, is A5 - or an A4 page folded in half, more correctly. That means we can have four, eight, twelve or sixteen pages (one, two, three or four sheets of paper, folded, printed both sides). At sixteen pages, we’re really pushing it in terms of the whole “print at home or school and self-assemble” aspect, so I’d consider that the absolute maximum, and twelve is probably better. Anything more than that I think is better held over for a second issue.

So, if we go for twelve, by the time we take out the cover and a credits/contents/licensing/links page, we’ve ten pages left.

Now, using a not completely-tiny type size and leading in the following mockup, I get roughly 300 words per page or 240 per title/header page:

(Yes, I used my own stories. I dislike Lorem Ipsum because it’s harder to get a sense of true paragraphing. I also hate not keeping lines together at the start/end of paragraphs, but it wasted far too much space.)

A two-page spread, with header and author credit, gives us 540 words. A three-page article gives us 840 words. With ten pages, we’re looking at two three-page articles and two two-page articles, or one three-page, three-two page and a one-page article. Whatever we’re writing, it’s going to be short (hence my feeling that we’ll likely have to push it out to sixteen pages). If we insert images or add pull quotes to break up the text, that gives us even fewer words!

Now, given that this is meant to be an introduction to allosexual aromanticism, I think the content we’re looking at for the first issue includes:

How to make your a-spec community welcoming for allo-aros (@crimsonsquare and I are calling dibs)

Why allo-aros need aro information separate from asexuality (my thinking here is the Standard Allo-Aro Experience Narrative and a demonstration of how it impacts us: the I didn’t know that I’m aromantic because it’s so often regarded as an asexual experience story)

An article with terminology explanations and definitions (allo and allosexual, queerplatonic, etc)

An article on how to avoid allo-aro antagonism/microagressions/amatonormativity

An article or articles on allo-aro identity and the difficulty in finding our sense of identity?

Short 50-100 word pieces from allo-aros talking about what being allo-aro means to us (these are good for filling up half-used pages)

Anything else folks want to pitch, because if it doesn’t fit in here we’ll do as many issues as folks want to make things for

We could also consider doing a print edition that’s more compressed and a digital edition with longer articles and more pieces, if there’s a lot of interest. I know a few of the suggestions above could be covered from multiple angles by multiple allo-aro folks, so if this is the case, a longer/complete digital edition may be the best way to go. Or discarding the print version of this entirely and sticking with digital-only, perhaps?

We also need cover art (it’d be really cool to have something from an allo-aro artist) and a title. I have a few awful puns in mind (Hallowed Arrows? Alloyed Arrows? Allocating Arrows?) but suggestions are so welcome on this point.

I’d also like at least one other editor, if anyone’s interested in volunteering. If folks want to translate the zine content into the language of their choice, let me know because I’m happy to place the translated content into the zine layout and host the translations on my WordPress site.

I would clarify that this project will be run entirely on a volunteer basis: nobody is paid and all creators retain full copyright over their work and can publish it anywhere else they feel like at any time they feel like. (But please consider that by submitting, you’re giving me the the right to a) possibly have your work translated into another language and b) publish your work under a Creative Commons license for free and unrestricted non-commercial distribution offline and off.) Folks can be published under whatever name they like (real name, pseudonym, Tumblr username); the only real requirement is that you identify as, in part or in full, as allosexual-aromantic or a member of the allo-aro community.

I’m not yet at a point where I’m ready to take submissions; I’ll do a formal, fancy post when I am. What I’m doing now is just talking about the limitations, the process, what I think could work for a first issue, early expressions of interest, and then seeing what folks think.

So. What do folks think?

#the allo aro zine tag #undescribed #mod chatter #alloaro #aroallo #text #long post #very long post

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aspec-stories-blog · 5 years ago

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Submission guidelines (post)

**Note that our guidelines may change as we get a better feel for who follows our blog and what they want to write about**

Contents:

Before you click “Submit”

What can people submit?

Topics that we will NOT post to the blog

How do I submit something?

How can I have my submission posted anonymously?

A couple more notes on submissions: our weekly prompts, submitting your own writing prompts, submitting visual works, and community intros

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Before you click “Submit”

Since it doesn’t show up when you submit something on mobile, here is what’s written on our “Submit something!” page:

“Please check out our “Submission guidelines” page before submitting something to us! Then, before you click “Submit,” please do the following: 1. Make sure to include any of the following content warnings that are relevant: body-hatred, eating disorder implication (anything beyond a mention), and gore. Write them in the first line (under the title, before the body of your submission) so that our mods are aware of the warnings before they start reading. 2. SAVE A COPY OF YOUR WORK!!! Tumblr has a nasty habit of eating submissions, and we don’t want it to accidentally delete the only copy of your writing before we can post it! Submitted content that is posted to our blog will be directly credited to the URL you submit from, unless otherwise specified. Thank you! We look forward to reading your work!”

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What can people submit?

One of our main goals here is to help inspire and share writing about and for aspec people, so we ask that authors stick to that demographic as much as possible. And since there’s not a ton of writing out there about aspec people and experiences, there’s so much for all of us to explore! Poems and song lyrics! Short stories and multi-part series! Character ideas and story concepts! Fanfiction and original ideas! Comics! Movie scripts! Whatever you want to create!! Want to write about an aromantic adventurer in a fantasy world? A budding queerplatonic relationship between college students? A demisexual scientist inventing time travel? Do it!!! We’re SO excited to read your works, and we’re sure there will be plenty of others here who are, too! Don’t want to write an entire story? That’s cool, too! You can submit writing prompts; book, fic, song, show, or movie recommendations; writing tips; aspec positivity and support—as long as it’s relevant to the blog and follows our policies, it’s fair game!

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Topics that we will NOT post to the blog

Content warning: there are mentions of many triggering topics in this section.

We definitely want to allow y’all lots of freedom for exploration in your submissions, but also—first and foremost—we want Aspec Stories to be a safe and supportive place for aspec people of all ages, identities, and experiences. To help promote that positive environment, we (the mods) have decided to make all of the following topics off-limits in submissions and on the blog in general:

Animal cruelty

Child abuse

Discrimination or hate towards any members of the LGBTQIA+ community

Explicit* childbirth

Explicit* corrective rape (or explicit rape of any kind)

Explicit* disordered eating

Explicit* experience of conversion therapy

Explicit* gun violence

Explicit* self-harm

Explicit* sexual activity (specifically NSFW content, e.g. no porn, smut, or lemons)

Explicit* sexual assault

Explicit* suicide

Explicit* use of hard drugs and/or illicit substances (with the exception of marijuana and alcohol, though we may choose not to allow them if we feel that your representation of their use is inappropriate for this blog. We will contact you directly if that is the case.)

Explicit* verbal or physical abuse

Extreme body horror (i.e. we define body horror as “altering a character’s body in grotesque or seemingly painful ways.” This does NOT include disabled bodies, burn victims, amputees, or people with scars. It is meant for situations that are out of the ordinary. Please use your discretion—we’ll contact you directly if we feel that you have included body horror that is too disturbing to publish on this blog.)

Hardcore gore (i.e. gore may be included in submissions, but please use your discretion—we’ll contact you directly if we feel that you have included too much or that it is too disturbing to publish on this blog.)

Inappropriate treatment of minors in general (i.e. please use your discretion when writing about characters who are minors, including characters who are canonically minors who you have aged-up for the sake of your story. We’ll contact you directly if we think that your treatment of underage characters is problematic in any way.)

Incest

Hateful slurs

Pedophilia

Racial slurs, specifically

Unaddressed discrimination of any kind (i.e. while discrimination may be included as part of a character’s experience, it should not go unaddressed within the story. We will contact you directly if we feel that any discrimination represented in your submission is poorly addressed or otherwise inappropriate for this blog.)

Unnecessary violence (i.e. violence that seems unnecessarily cruel or seems as though it serves no purpose to the story being told)

We doubt that most of these topics are things y’all would want to write about, anyways, but we want to share this list to let you know that we’re watching out for you! If you think that anything else should be added to this list of off-limits topics, please message us or send us an ask!

If your submission includes any of the above topics, we will NOT post it to the blog. We’ll contact you at the URL that you submitted from to let you know that we’ve decided not to publish your work. Depending on the situation, if you are willing to edit out the off-limits content we may consider reviewing your submission again for posting.

If you feel that a submission that we have already posted on the blog violates our policy of off-limits topics, please send us a direct message and we’ll address it as soon as we possibly can.

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*To clarify on the starred topics: When we say “explicit” we mean “writing (or art) that shows said topic happening within the submission.” Topics such as abuse, self-harm, etc. may exist within your writing, but only indirectly or in mention. For example: we will not allow an explicitly shown or described (NSFW) sex scene, but if characters are talking about their relationships with sex without getting into NSFW detail that’s totally fine (we’ll just tag it as a content warning). Please contact us if you have any questions about this!

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How do I submit something?

If you have something you’d like to have posted on Aspec Stories, read through this list to find out how to best share it with us:

Is it a poem, short story, longer written work, visual art, character blurb, or something of that nature? Send it to us via our “Submit something!” page, please!

Is it a writing prompt, writing tip, some form of media recommendation, message of positivity, or something similar? Also send these to us via the “Submit something!” page!

Do you have a question or comment for us about the blog or one of our posts? Send it to us via the “Ask something!” page, or send us a direct message! We’ll be happy to hear from you!

Want to introduce yourself to the blog’s community? Visit the “A couple more notes on submissions” section of this page!

When in doubt, send it to us as a submission via our “Submit something!” page! Most of the things we post will be user-submitted, and sending us content via our “Submit something!” page is the best way for us to give you credit for your work.

Other than that, please make sure you’re following our policies for topics that we do and do not allow on the blog. Then just follow the final requests that we’ve included on the “Submit something!” page, and click the submit button! We’re excited to see what you send us!

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How can I have my submission posted anonymously?

Step one: please don’t submit writing to us via anonymous asks!! Please!! That could get very confusing for us mods, especially if your work is long and you send it to us as multiple anonymous asks. We might actually cry if that happens. Especially if tumblr eats part of your work. Or you send us 20 asks and we’re not sure what order they’re meant to go in. Please… please don’t make us cry.

Instead, just include this note in one of the first lines of your submission (under the title but before the body of your work): “post as anon”. Easy! When we see that note, we’ll copy and paste the contents of your submission into a brand new post, then tag it as “author: anon”. We (the mods) will still see the URL you submit from in our inbox, but when we post your submission to the blog it will be completely anonymous. And please don’t feel weird about us knowing your URL! We won’t share it with anyone and we won’t contact you unless we need to (like if your submission includes an off-limits topic). And honestly, we probably won’t remember it after 5 minutes. No worries—we promise!

If you’d like us to post your submission anonymously but use a pseudonym instead of “anon”, write the note like this: “post as anon, author: [pseudonym]” (for example: “post as anon, author: Doodleoo McGee”). We’ll do all the same things to post it anonymously, but just use the “author: [pseudonym]” tag in place of our default “author: anon” tag (which will make it easier for you to find later).

**Note that if you use a pseudonym that another person has already claimed, we’ll contact you to ask for a new one. If we don’t hear back from you in a few days, we’ll just add some numbers to the end of your original pseudonym and call it good.

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A couple more notes on submissions

There are a few things about specific types of submissions that we want to clarify!

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Our weekly prompts

Each week (on Aspec Saturday), we’ll post a new prompt that’s meant to help people come up with ideas for submissions. Your submissions don’t HAVE to be related to these prompts—they’re just for extra inspiration! But, to help keep things organized, we’ll be tagging all submissions that we think are in response to the weekly prompts with an extra tag: “weekly prompt # (Month Year)”. All other submissions (unrelated to the weekly writing prompts) will be tagged as “general submission”. Please visit the “Our tags” page for more info about our tagging system!

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Submitting your own writing prompts

You are more than welcome to submit writing prompts for us to share! Usually we’ll just post these as regular submissions with the tag “general submission”. If anyone submits something in response to your prompt, it will also be tagged as a “general submission” (otherwise it would get really tricky to keep track of everything).

If we think that your prompt would be a cool one to use as one of our weekly writing prompts, we’ll contact you and ask if we can save your prompt for an upcoming week. If you’d rather we just post it as a regular submission we will, but if you’re ok with us using the prompt, we’ll post it on one of our Aspec Saturdays! All credit for the writing prompt will go to you as you’ve specified!

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Submitting visual works

This blog will mostly be for sharing writing, but if you’re inspired to create some aspec art, please send it our way! Keep in mind that all the submission and community guidelines apply to visual art submissions just as they do to written ones.

Since we’re working to make this an accessible blog, all the images we post will include written image descriptions. We’re prepared to write these descriptions ourselves, but we would be very appreciative if you took the time to describe your own art! If you’ve never described an image before, it’s easy to get the hang of and very very helpful for people who are blind or visually impaired. And especially if you regularly post artwork online, this would be a good skill to learn!

Here are some resources to help you get started with writing image descriptions, from another accessible tumblr blog: [link]

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Community intros

We’re hoping to gather a community of aspec writers, readers, and artists together with this blog. If you’d like to introduce yourself to the other members of the community—at any time—just send us an ask with a little bit about yourself that you’d like us to share!

If it’s NOT an anon ask, we’ll tag it with “author: [your URL]” and “community intro!”

If it IS an anon ask, we’ll tag it with “author: anon” and “community intro!”

We look forward to meeting you!!

#submission guidelines post #static page

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shark-myths · 7 years ago

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My Versailles

This is an *ultimate* Tryst Theory jam. Thank you, anon, for giving me the excuse to shout about:

Fourth of July

Insane lyrics meta screaming below the cut!

(You and I were fire)

This opening alone tells us about the intensity, vibrancy, heat, and all-consuming nature of the relationship. I hear this song as a retrospective on the pre-hiatus trysting that the Petericks got up to. This is one of the songs that was instrumental in convincing me of Tryst Theory, actually, instead of just Star-Crossed Queerplatonic Soulmate Longing. Trysting that each of them pretended meant nothing outside of sex, because each of them were so deep in their own issues that they thought the other would never possibly want more from them than that. (And Pete especially would never ask for it: he believed he would ruin Patrick, like he believed he ruined every other thing. And Patrick? Well, Pete Wentz will kiss anyone. He’ll do anything on stage, say anything to scandalize reports. He lives on rumors about himself, the nastier the better. He’ll touch anyone, say anything, spin any sincerity and fling it like a weapon, like a show, out into the audience. Pete Wentz is the King of Doesn’t Mean It.)

It was the Fourth of July

You and I were fireworks

That went off too soon

And I miss you in the June gloom, too

The time anchor of summer is meaningful, I think: summer is the time of touring, especially in early days when they slept in vans and had to work around school schedules. Summer is used often by Pete as a metaphor that encompasses the ease and liminality of Van Days Peterick. Summer, too, is holy to us—a time when things don’t count, don’t have consequences. The free-for-all before autumn’s reset. Holy, and inevitably short-lived.

But more meaningful than summer is the concept of what a firework is. Bright, intense, thrilling, dangerous. A man-made explosion of pure entertainment. A firework that went off too soon, then, is Pete saying—we were perfect together and we didn’t know it. I was too much of a mess back then, and you were too insecure. If we went off now, we would be a showstopping fucking finale. We would tear the sky apart. We’d be the new sun. But instead our bodies found each other when we were too young to bear the meaning of it. We went off too soon.

It was the Fourth of July

You and I were fireworks

I said I’d never miss you

But I guess you never know

May the bridges I have burned light my way back home

On the Fourth of July

I love the play of ‘I said I’d never miss you/but I guess you never know’ because it shows us so many complexities in such an elegant, concise lyric. 1) Pete believing and NEEDING to believe, telling himself like he’s telling Patrick, that it means nothing—that he’ll never miss it. The act of I said and how that doesn’t mean I meant. 2) Pete saying it as a true prediction but being wrong—I guess you never know how these things will play out. 3) Pete saying it and knowing it was a lie, and Patrick being the you who never knows. Aaaaah, this song is so crunchy and good.

And these burning bridges—this is not the first time Pete’s written about them! (Tell That Mick: Stop burning bridges and start driving off them; I’m A Lawyer: I’ll take my last chance to burn a bridge or two. And let’s not even get into his mentions of the burning of cities…) It is amazingly restorative here, though, and a tell that the song is written by post-hiatus Pete: he’s using the bridges to find his way back to that which is most important to him, that which he attempted with his bad behavior to scorch off the face of the earth. He’s invoking a prayer, here, that he finds his way back to Patrick. Because Patrick is his home.

I’ll be as honest as you let me

I miss your early morning company

If you get me

You are my favorite “what if”

You are my best “I’ll never know”

‘I’ll be as honest as you let me’ shows us so, so clearly how much of the enforced secrecy around trysting, and how much of Pete’s perception of why the trysting was secret, is tied up in Patrick’s shyness and the ‘no-homo’ that appeared some time in between Van Days and Meteoric Rise To Fame Days—Patrick went from being comfortable with jokes about queerness, about him and Pete, physical touching, and styling himself with certain queer elements, esp. with effeminate physical postures and things like the infamous Guys Gone Wild shirt, to being markedly uncomfortable with those things. Like the scrutiny of sudden fame or feedback he received from their management indicated something about these expressions was unacceptable or frightening. Anyway, it shows that Pete has been holding his tongue in part because he doesn’t think Patrick would want to be seen with or associated with him in that way. That Patrick has been the onus for secrecy. And Patrick, meanwhile—he may have just been thinking none of it was real to Pete.

‘I miss your early morning company, if you get me’ is pretty obviously about waking up next to your tryst-partner. What-if/I’ll never know kills me, actually physically kills me, on a daily basis. It highlights how they never tried to have a relationship for real, never gave it an actual honest-hearted try. They just fucked behind the scenes when they could and pretended it meant nothing to either of them. I’M NOT CRYING, THERE’S JUST SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY CONTACT LENS

This configuration speaks to other lines, too, like favorite mistake and you were my picket fence.

And I’m starting to forget

Just what summer ever meant to you

What did it ever mean to you?

It feels so real in the moment, but as soon as they’re apart, it’s easy to doubt that the other person was sincere. That they were present emotionally. While they’re together, Pete is so, so sure Patrick feels it too. That it’s love. That it must be love. Then, in the after, Patrick is so closed-off and distant, Pete convinces himself he was imagining it all. Here’s posthiatus Pete, saying: it meant something to me. Did it ever mean anything to you? Were we ever friends, or were we always more?

Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any of it

I just got too lonely, lonely

In between being young and being right

You were my Versailles at night

‘Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any of it’ could be posed conversationally—as another speaker giving an answer to the last verse’s question. Pete does this sometimes: Alone Together and Twin Skeletons are two immediate examples that spring to mind, where the songs are framed conversationally and could be heard/read as call and answer. He does it quite a bit in Van Days writing, usually framed conveniently in actual quotation marks, too. So he could be quoting Patrick back to himself here.

It could also be Pete trying to walk it back, voicing again what he said then to minimize the impact of the trysting, to give Patrick an out if posthiatus Pete is overwhelming him. He could be talking about ending the tryst and the resolution that they could never be together and indicating that that is what he didn’t mean any of. Or he didn’t mean it all the times he said it wasn’t real, that it was just fucking.

My Versailles at night, though—that is. That is some unequivocable queer-ass, decadent devotion. That is some Oscar Wilde level bullshit. I could do a whole post of screaming just about that, gilt and gold and impossible and unfair, a shame and a glory of historical proportion. It pulls up the masculine-gendered ‘mon cherie’ that appears elsewhere in the album. It lets us know this is the same person Pete’s writing about through the album. And Patrick speaks French, guys. That masculine mon is not a fucking mistake.

My 9 to 5 is cutting open old scars

Again and again ‘til I’m stuck in your head

This is pretty clearly about Pete’s job of rehashing all his old pain to write songs that get stuck in our heads. It’s also in conversations with you were the song stuck in my head. It’s a clue that he’s digging into the past, as he so often is in his amazingly recursive relationship with himself.

Had my doubts, but I let them out

You are the drought

And I’m the holy water you have been without

REMEMBER IN THE KIDS AREN’T ALRIGHT WHERE PETE WRITES, ‘stay thirsty like before?’ REMEMBER GUYS DO YOU

It also says: I don’t doubt anymore. I do love you. Holy water, guys. Altar boys. The thing that saves you. The pure thing. The only thing to quench that thirst. Uggggggggh. The Save Rock and Roll vid shows us all we need to know and more about Pete’s idea of holiness and how the band fits into that.

And all my thoughts of you

They could heat or cool the room

And no, don’t tell me you cried

Oh, honey, you don’t have to lie

Running hot or cold on someone, the trysty flip-flopping of I love you I can’t live without you/it’s cool bro it’s just sex it doesn’t mean anything. And it shows how at that time, and through the writing of this album, Pete doubted whether it meant anything to Patrick. Whether Patrick was there with him, inside the feeling, or if he was alone.

I wish I’d known how much you loved me

I wish I cared enough to know

I’m sorry every song’s about you

The torture of small talk with someone you used to love

This is it. This line is the real fucking killer. This is the final nail in my tryst theory shaped coffin. ‘I wish I’d known how much you loved me.’ This is Pete acknowledging, finally: I think it did mean something to you. And I was so wrapped up in myself, my own performative suffering, my own myth, that I didn’t even care enough to see it. I was just convinced someone like you could never love me, that I’d hurt you if you did, that I’d ruin you. I was so obsessed with myself that I didn’t see it, didn’t know. How different I would have been, had I seen it.

(Remember that interview where Pete says “In my twenties I was the most selfish person I’ve ever known” [paraphrase]? Hahahahahahaha so many cries)

And then: ‘I’m sorry every song’s about you.’ This alone gives so much weight to the idea that tryst theory is supported. Who else in Pete’s life has he been writing about all this time? No matter how intense his young relationships were, do we really think he’s still writing to some ex-girlfriend all these years later when he’s so happy with Meagan and has such a beautiful family? No, he’s writing to someone close to him, someone he cannot and will not forget about. He’s writing to the same person he’s always been writing to, on one level or another.

He’s writing to Patrick.

‘The torture of small talk with someone you used to love.’ Because isn’t it killing him, to carry on everyday, to pick up the phone during the hiatus and call Patrick, to carry on like he hasn’t finally grown and matured enough to be able to make good on the wild bets of his young heart? To act as if he isn’t in love with Patrick. To act as if he never was. Isn’t it torture?

ISN’T THIS ENTIRE BAND AND THIS ENTIRE ALBUM ABSOLUTE T O R T U R E

And that is the Official Tryst Theory reading of Fourth of July! I hope it satisfied your angst-itching needs. What’s next, True Believers? I need something to rant about so I don’t dry up and die before Mania drops.

THANK YOU LOVE YOU BYE

#tryst theory #lyrics meta #peterick #fob #fall out boy #fourth of july #ab/ap #american beauty american psycho

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iheartjosiebean · 4 years ago

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I can't imagine all the people that you know And the places that you go When the lights are turned down low And I don't understand all the things you've seen But I'm slipping in between You and your big dreams It's always you In my big dreams

For always having been a massive Something Corporate fan, by the time I first heard “Konstantine” I was several years late to the party. I’ve always loved the words but I've just now realized how deeply personal they are to me. (I’m not gonna embed the song, but you can look it up if you’re so inclined. It’s very long and seems like it’s going to end a couple of times before it actually, finally does, sort of like my stream of consciousness.) I was thinking yesterday about how this song always made me think of my best friend in college. I loved her with a tormenting intensity that made me question everything. All I wanted from this life was to spend it with her, though I wasn’t interested in romance or sex. I didn’t have words for a queerplatonic relationship at the time, but that’s precisely what I wanted. Since I didn’t have words for it or an awareness that it was a real thing people did, I thought I was completely out of my mind. She echoed my wishes and assured me and re-assured me so many times that it was mutual, but I was never able to believe her. I don’t think either of us knew what the fuck we were doing or believed we could or should actually have what we thought we wanted. I pushed her away and we were estranged for a while. We later reconciled. About a year after I started dating my now-husband, she moved out of state and has been gone ever since - over 9 years ago. Everything worked out for us both, we’re both happy, and we’re still friends who love each other very much. But I'm slipping in between You and your big dreams

I never felt like I was of any value to her, or in terms of the life I dreamed of with her. My presence in her life always felt like an interruption, a diversion. I felt constantly guilty, like I was wasting her time, and keeping her from something better and more desirable. She chose me, time and time again, and I know she didn’t see me in the way I’ve described. But I wasn’t able to believe her. I do this every single fucking time. I have told my husband so many times that he is free to end things and leave me that the last time he said “I’m really concerned about you and the way you keep saying that, like it’s what you want me to do.” It’s not, and the thought terrifies and devastates me. But I have completely destroyed his dreams of being a dad. I’ve spent years feeling like my potential for being a mother was the only thing of value I had to offer him, even if it meant I became an empty, depressive shell of a person who may as well be dead. Because in all honesty that’s all I could ever envision - I would have been an incredibly regretful and resentful parent and ruined many more lives than just my own. I know he sees more in me than that, and he doesn’t actually want to lose me even if it meant he could have children, but I struggle to believe that. Setting a boundary that this is absolutely not what I’m going to do with my life has been the scariest and most challenging decision I’ve ever made. I’m choosing myself for once, in the most significant and loving way I can think of, but my decision still feels like violence toward him and others who would have wanted differently.

And you don't want to look much closer 'Cause you’re afraid to find out all this hope You had sent into the sky by now had crashed And it did Because of me

This is how I show up to all my relationships. This is how I feel when I text first, when I reach out after it’s been a while, when I ask for more, or to see someone, or anything at all really. I’m an interruption, a diversion, a nuisance, an inconvenience. I know, on an intellectual level, I’m not. I’m slowly starting to believe that I’m more than I give myself credit for. I’ve got so many wonderful people in my life who keep choosing me, who keep showing up for me, and who say what they mean and mean what they say. They are constantly proving me wrong and they never complain about it, never tell me I’m too much, or that I want too much. I’ve actually never felt like I have as much love, support, and friendship in my life as I do right now, and over the past year. I’ve lamented countless times about how I show up to spaces making myself small in hopes I’ll be tolerated, operating under the belief that’s all I deserve or can reasonably ask for. I’m realizing that comes from a place of believing I’m no more than a consolation prize. I’m what you get when you don’t get what you want, and hopefully you can learn to appreciate me to enough of an extent that I won’t feel your disappointment. I sure as shit don’t view the people in my life as consolation prizes. Everyone I’ve chosen to have in my life, they are all deeply loved and the people I choose first. They’re not slipping in between me and my big dreams, they are who I wanted and make this life one I’ve hoped for and dreamed of. It’s possible I’m a first choice and part of the life others have hoped for, too.

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mari-m-rose · 8 years ago

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hi! i'm new to the sinja fandom and i wanted to know their current status in the manga? do you think they might be endgame? or will sinbad end up single and him and ja'far will go back to how they were in sindria? do you think their bond is romantic? do you think sinbad will love or appreciate ja'far more after everything is over? sorry for asking so many questions but i really like sinja and want them to be endgame so badly!! T~T

Hello dear anon! Welcome to our dear sinja fandom! I hope you have a great time dying for sinja as much as we do odishvohi haha.And sorry that this answer will be a little negative! But I hope it doesn’t discourage you.About the endgame part…sadly that’s not gonna happen.Magi is a shounen manga, which in short means there won’t be any LGBT canon main characters or relationships. I’d like to write a longer explanation about this but it would be an even longer answer than this one. But basically if there was a gay romance involving main characters in a shounen manga, people would probs consider it a yaoi and I’m sure most shounen manga audience wouldn’t read a story like that. Well, even if they did, magazine editors are probably not gonna risk it anyways. And they have the last word in manga works.So, while Ohtaka seems to be a very open-minded and creative author, she will always be stopped by editors. Therefore she can’t do much about breaking cliches in shounen manga. For example she wasn’t allowed to keep Sinbad as woman, basically because since Magi is a shounen manga, they couldn’t make an important character as Sinbad a woman.

There’re always one or two canon gay characters in shounen manga tho, but they are always not important characters. For example we have Paimon, who is the only woman in Magi who is openly attracted to other women. However if a character is important they will most likely never be confirmed as gay. So, making Sinbad canonly bisexual is pretty much impossible. In fact if Ohtaka made Sin canonly bi it would be a HUGE revolutionary thing never done in the shounen genre before (I do think he’s very bi tho or that it’s suggested). However the editors would probably stop her if she wanted to.

So in matters of endgame, that was never a possibility. There could be a chance, but it would be something like a miracle.And whether Ohtaka wanted them as endgame in the first place…we will never know.

However, me and you and everyone who likes them together, we all hoped that at least they stayed together. Well…that’s probably not gonna happen anymore. Let’s face it, Sinbad has changed too much. While the writing hasn’t been bad I still believe he wouldn’t have changed to the extend of being ok with his friends disappearing and becoming Rukh, while he travels to other worlds. That’s a line that he was never gonna cross, at least for me. But no, he was about to cross it. And Idk if he was lying or he meant it but now everything he says is hard to believe…Does Sinbad care about his friends now? He does, but in a very questionable way that is hard to understand. He might elaborate on that matter soon tho.Moreover Sinbad’s new objective is to go to other worlds and convince their gods to stop playing with destiny (I think). Which means that if he leaves to do that, he might not come back in a while …and would he even want to come back? That’s probably something he’s gonna answer on this week’s chapter, or so I hope.

At least he’s said he couldn’t forget about his beloved ones. It feels fake (it was an underwhelming panel), but I’m gonna remember that and rub it on my burns lol.

Everything going back to normal ….I don’t know about that. If Sinbad comes back people may remember what he did and they might try to lock him up or kill him, so he never attempts to do such a thing again. So, if he comes back he’s gonna have to live exiled like Kouen does… unless people don’t remember anything. I wonder if Sinbad will want that kind of life after saving people from gods of other dimensions, … maybe not (hopefully yes tho, so he pays for his crimes).

Now, do I believe sinja’s relationship is canonly romantic? Hmm even if they won’t be confirmed I think it still has a great chance to be secretly canon. On Ja’far’s part it’s easy to believe, tho I’m sure that if he has such feelings for Sin he hasn’t realized yet. But the way his love for him is described is too intense. I dare to say it even transcends romantic love. He just loves him overall, all of him and in every way. Snb’s fanbook even says that Ja’far is the only one out of the 8 generals who doesn’t have a home to return to and that Sinbad’s side is his only home.

Sinbad is difficult. He does love his friends and has pointed out he considers them his family. And he does give Ja’far special treatment. He’s his closest one and that shows even in last arc. Ja’far was also the last person he said goodbye to before dying and that spot is always reserved to the special loved one.It’s interesting to point out too that Sin’s also dropped all activity with women, since he isn’t a king anymore (no concubines for him lol) and he works all day. And even when there has been tension between the two of them, they have spent a lot of time together in Sinbad’s office. So there’re a lot of sinja interaction off screen that we don’t know of. Maybe stuff happened there.So, like I said with Sinbad is hard to know but Ja’far is still his closest one.Is their bond romantic then? We’ll never know but probably not. Tbh sinja are canonly queerplatonic for me and thus them being canonly romantic doesn’t really matter. Since their relationship itself exists and it’s strong and an indisputable base for a great romance.

We don’t know how this is gonna end but there are several posible good ends and bad ends. Sinja could still be together if Sinbad hides and retires somewhere in the world, I’m sure Ja’far would join him and take care of him. But if Sinbad never comes back to life, most likely Ja’far will end up returning to Sindria and continue his life helping Drakon and Saher. A more satisfying end would be Sinbad apologizing and telling his friends he’s coming back after he completes his new dream or if he took Ja’far with him…but that would be unlikely.

I want to point out too, I personally believe Sinbad lied when he told Aladdin he has always been fine alone, it doesn’t look like that in SnB at all, so I hope he realizes that he does care about his beloved ones enough to return and stay with them after he’s accomplished his new dream. Also, Sinbad talks like his dream was always the same but we all know that it was sparked by Yunan and the only thing that he truly valued back then was adventure. That Sinbad seems to be long gone but there’s a small chance he still realizes this in last chapters.

To finally end this long ass reply (sorry), it shouldn’t matter if sinja is romantically canon as long as their bond exists. And no matter how hard last arc was, Sinbad still trusted Ja’far so much, the moment he entered his office late at night, he confessed all his plans to him right away and with no regrets. Whatever Sinbad became it will also never erase the good years of their relationship and how special their bond is. I still hope Ohtaka makes them justice tho, I find horrible she’s fine with revealing info like “Sinbad is Ja’far’s only home"/”he doesn’t have a place to return to than SInbad’s side” and “Ja’far loves Sinbad more than anyone else” and at the same time she makes Ja’far end up alone with the leftovers of the mess Sinbad has caused. It would be too unfair for him. So maybe, just maybe she might make things improve for them. Let’s hope! Magi hasn’t ended yet and it’s still difficult to predict.

We also have SnB to see sinja’s relationship grow into the beautiful thing it was when Magi just started, So let’s look forward to that ♥.

This is probably not the best time to join sinja fandom BUT we are still here to make sinja happen if Ohtaka doesn’t and tbh, I still plan to be here for a while. We are also really good guys ♥ so I recommend speaking to any of us any time.

Have lots of fun and sorry for being brutally honest and writing this much.

#Anonymous #reply #sinja thoughts #ja'far movign on would be great too but Id still feel it unfair

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makingstuffup · 8 years ago

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Here’s an argument that we see from ace tumblr on a regular basis. It’s the argument that people not knowing about your identity or believing that it’s real is, in and of itself, a form of oppression (often phrased as “at least people know you exist”). This argument is being used in someone’s blog post to prove a certain point.

[T]here is one more term which I must define, namely that which I call "oppression by omission." By this, I don't simply mean the invisibility of minorities (either "invisibility" in the larger society, or as "invisibility" within minority spaces, such as this blog post about the invisibility of Native/Indigenous people in spaces for people of color). There are countless ways in which minorities of various kinds, and those positions of relatively less social power, are not taken into account, left out of decision-making processes that have an impact on them, etc. Oppression by omission is not "you are so marginalized we do not have to consider how this will impact you," although that plays a role in it. What I am mainly talking about here is the experience of minority groups about whom the master-narrative is "this group does not and cannot exist at all," and when one of the central ways by which oppression is occurring is through society's repeated (even ubiquitous) assertion that people like this do not and cannot exist, and that people who "claim" to be this way are mentally ill, frauds, or are otherwise incapable of accurately relating their own experiences. In some cases, anyone who even accepts the experiences of these people is considered deserving of ridicule. When oppression by omission is occurring, the people impacted by it are very unlikely to "come out" about their experiences, not because there are explicit statutes on the books about people like them, but because the social ostracism, or perceived threat of such, is immense. In subtle and not subtle ways, most of us are taught at an early age that there is something different, or scary, or not OK about our experiences. This ostracism, or perceived threat of such, is almost always also invisible to those who do not see these minorities in the first place. The invisibility begets invisibility; with few to no positive role-models, few to no positive and empowering stories to identify with, and relentless negative messaging (in some cases through spec fic), invisibility can become the only "safe" world we know, and we can be hesitant to challenge it. Oppression by omission can take place on a small scale or a large one, within the larger social framework or within minority spaces, alone or in conjunction with other forms of oppression. It is different from what is usually recognized as "oppression," the more overt and visible forms. But it is not without often profound impact on the people who are thus erased. There have been efforts aimed at challenging invisibility, even challening the oppression by omission, in certain communities. The Asexuality Visibility and Education Network has been doing this work for a decade, and recently a documentary has been made about asexuality and asexual people. Yes, asexuals face considerable oppression by omission: check out the lovely videos made by swankivy, such as here, where you can watch videos she made about her "Asexuality Top Ten." ("You can't really be asexual, you must be...")

What do you think the context of this is? What point is the author trying to make? Take a guess before you read the rest.

This comes from the blog critpsitheory, which aims to combat the oppression of people with psychic powers. The entries date from 2011 to 2013.

It has a long list of bingo cards, a list of how to evaluate media for anti-psi bias, a list of common microaggressions against psi, and more. This is the post the quote came from, and the author goes on to say:

The concept of oppression by omission is also helpful for understanding the invisibility faced by more esoteric minorities, such as Otherkin, therians, psi/sang vampyres, or even what it's like to be part of a multiple system. To some degree, transgender people also face oppression by omission, such as "genderqueer people do not exist," "transmen are really butch lesbians who took it too far," or "trans women are all cross-dressers who want to colonize women's identities and bodies." Bisexual/pansexual people also face it. The list goes on. Now all of these experiences (and many more) are very different, and very diverse within each category. The only parallel I am drawing is that in each instance, the social master-narrative is, at least at times, one of "non-existence," and so each and every time someone tries to come forward with a counter-narrative and express his/her/hir experience of the world, for whatever reason, he/she/ze has to deal with that master-narrative in some way. It might be because someone else is shutting them down or putting them down. It might be because they have to couch their experience in other terms in order to get through someone's filters. It might be because they have to, in some sense, "test out" all the people they talk to about this aspect of their lives to see if they can accept it. It might be that they choose never to tell others, because they know that telling others is fundamentally emotionally, socially or even physically unsafe. (See this video, for example.) What does psi omission look like? It really takes many forms. It can be that psi experiences are omitted from the biographies of famous people, even when these people wrote extensively about their experiences -- such as Mark Twain (for example here, and the several articles linked here) or Konstantin Tsiolkovsky. It can be the dearth, or even total lack, of non-sensationlistic non-fiction produced about the subject. It can be discourse or study that focuses exclusively on whether or not the "claims" are "real," with little to no attention paid to the narratives of the people living with these experiences (except when the purpose is sensationalism, or the entertainment of non-psi people). It exists in the lack of realistic characters, with experiences like ours, present in "realistic fiction" on television, in books and movies, etc. -- characters who are full people (not two dimensional plot devices), characters whose role in the story is not to "do psi things" every week (or simply to be scary, or to stand there and look sexy), characters who exhibit self-determination, characters who can serve as positive role-models. It exists in the complete lack of serious support groups (in the US, anyway) for young people trying to understand their experiences in a world that denies, stigmatizes and ridicules them. It exists in "othering" language and the use of us as rhetorical sarcasm (which I will cover in more depth on this blog).

Now, whatever your personal beliefs on the existence of psychic powers, I hope we can all agree that people with psychic powers are not an oppressed group. The author lists bi and trans people as also suffering from this “oppression by omission,” and I hope we can all agree that bi and trans people actually are oppressed.

What does this tell us? It tells us that this argument is a bad one, and can be used to “prove” the oppression of any identity whatsoever as long as it’s less well known.

This blog came out of the heady days of roughly 2009-2012, when some sectors of the internet collectively discovered social justice in the aftermath of RaceFail. In the naive enthusiasm of those days, many people started creating privilege checklists, bingo cards, etc. for every identity they could possibly think of that faced societal stigma or invisibility or was not considered the norm.

There was one popular social justice blogger at that time who argued that being able to not drive drunk was a privilege, not being a necrophiliac was a privilege, and not being attracted to your siblings was a privilege similar to straight privilege. This blogger also endorsed monosexual privilege and binary privilege (the word “allosexual” hadn’t been invented yet, but I believe she also endorsed “sexual privilege”). (I’m not going to name her because she no longer endorses those ideas as far as I know.)

There were bloggers, some of them trolls but not all (and plenty of earnest people reblogged and supported the trolls’ ideas), who endorsed the ideas of “transethnic” and “transabled” oppression, which meant that people who identified as a different ethnicity than they were, or who identified as having a disability that they did not have, were oppressed.

Take a look at this list of personal privileges and oppressions, and “some of the oppressions and systems that kyriarchy is composed of.” (Warning: the author admits to committing sexual abuse.) I think this person was later revealed to be a troll, but they were satirizing a very real and common way of thinking.

The word “queerplatonic” came out of that time, and is representative of the ideas of that time.

“Privilege Denying X” was a popular meme at that time, and in response to the ace discourse - which was going on then and has never stopped - someone created the blog “Privilege Denying Asexuals,” which responds to ace tumblr’s rhetoric with many of the same arguments we are still using. (It’s an interesting exercise to see what’s changed and what hasn’t.)

In roughly 2013, tumblr slowly began changing courses to say that not all forms of societal stigma, discrimination, and lack of visibility were actually examples of a privilege/oppression dynamic. Materialist analysis slowly began gaining the upper hand, and now you’d be hard pressed to find someone on tumblr who thought that drunk drivers, necrophiliacs, “transabled” people, goths, furries, “vampyres,” people with dyed green hair, etc. are oppressed. In most cases where groups like this are concerned, it is no longer common for people to equate the forms of discrimination and invisibility described in this psi post to oppression.

Ace discourse is simply one of the last holdouts of this kind of rhetoric.

I do not mean to say that asexuals are like drunk drivers in that they are harmful, or like “psychic vampyres” in that the experiences they describe don’t exist. Some of the groups that people claimed were oppressed then are real, some are not; some face real difficulty in society that should be respected, some do not; some are not inherently harmful to others, and some are. People who don’t experience sexual attraction are real, often do face difficulty, and their lack of sexual attraction is harmless to others, but that does not make them an oppressed group, and it certainly doesn’t make them oppressed under homophobia and transphobia, the systems of oppression that the LGBT coalition exists to fight.

#ace discourse

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whifferdills · 8 years ago

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"Comfort Eagle" 12/Nardole, gen-ish, queerplatonic cuddles, ~1.2 k words

i blame @resting-meme-face entirely

(read on the Ao3)

"How do you do it?" the Doctor asked. He was slumped down on the jail cell floor in a position that promised future back pain.

"Do what?" Nardole replied. He did a lot of things, generally speaking.

The Doctor sighed melodramatically and crumpled further in on himself. "Be so nice to everyone, all of the time."

Nardole considered for a moment. "It's easier than not being nice," he decided on finally.

"For you, yeah, I s'pose it would be."

This was presumably meant as some sort of insult, but Nardole let it slide, partially because he wasn't quite sure how to interpret it. Instead, he rummaged in his pockets and pulled out a slightly-smushed bag of Asda own-brand chocolate biscuits. "Would eating help? You know you get grumpy when you're hungry."

The Doctor frowned from inside the pile his body currently was. "They'll be broken all to fuck by now. And I'm fine, anyway."

His stomach growled audibly; Nardole shook the bag of crumbs encouragingly in his general direction; he rolled his eyes, grabbed the bag, unfolded slightly, and shook the contents down his throat.

(The Doctor might have been about to say 'thanks', but then the guards came by and there was a whole Plan to be executed and there was a great deal of panicked running and, possibly, screaming, on Nardole's part, so it's possible he was mistaken there.)

"It's just something you decide to do," Nardole said later. On the ship, in one of the velvet-clad rooms, on the floor and doing the thing the Doctor had made him promise to never, ever call 'cuddling' again.

"Pardon?" The Doctor was flicking through miscellaneous curb-pickup listings on Craigslist at a frankly alarming speed, mobile phone held at an awkward angle away from the not-cuddle tangle they currently were.

"Being kind," Nardole said.

"Ah."

"Sure, some people don't deserve kindness. But most do. And I think it's best to start with kindness and then progress to angry invective and/or punching, if needed." He patted the Doctor's head, then let his fingers sift through all that hair, scritching at the Doctor's scalp.

The Doctor squirmed slightly and made the noise that he'd made clear was to not, under any circumstance, be referred to a purr. "Yeah," he said, coming out of the not-a-purr. "Yeah. But history's proven otherwise to me, so."

"Still important to decide to be kind," Nardole said, wrapping his non-hair-occupied hand around the Doctor's narrow chest.

There may have been an explosion, or three. Nardole might have been slightly on fire. He discreetly patted at his coat until the smoke stopped, and then took off his coat - since it was ruined - and tucked it neatly into the nearest garbage chute.

"Go on, then," the Doctor said. He looked remarkably unscathed and unsinged. "Tell me what I did wrong. You're always so keen on informing me how I fucked up, how you would have done it better, how it's so important to be a good person and how nice it would be if I could manage that."

Nardole circled him warily. "You were mean to a housekeeper."

"He was in the way."

"He was working."

"It's not all puppies and rainbows, right? If the apocalypse comes, d'you stop to help a pensioner across the street? If you need to do something, right now, okay, you don't stop and hold someone's hand and gently guide them through - what are you doing?"

Nardole grinned, a little bit nervously. "You get angry when you're hungry." His hand, holding a jelly donut, shook slightly in front of the Doctor's face.

"And when I'm not, as well," the Doctor said, trying to say it from between clenched teeth and marginally succeeding.

"Even so. Can't hurt." Nardole waved the donut around. "C'mon. You know you want it."

He considered it a victory that the Doctor only spent 1.5 minutes glaring and denying before snatching the pastry out of his hands.

"I know," Nardole said. He carefully stripped off his goo-soaked clothing. The TARDIS hummed and bumped the ambient temperature up a few degrees.

The Doctor stood shivering and a little unsteady on his feet. "They were all fucking bastards."

Nardole scraped a handful of ooze off his shoulder and watched it drop heavily, wetly to the floor. The TARDIS made an unhappy noise. Long story short: there'd been an explosion. "I know," he said again.

"And you want me to be kind," the Doctor said, or spat out. Bitterly, either way.

"Not to people who don't deserve it," Nardole said, squelching over uncomfortably. "But to those who do deserve it, yes."

"And who, in this scenario, deserves anything even vaguely approximating kindness." He looked like a drowned rat, poor thing, hair matted to his face and drenched through with...whatever it was.

"Yourself," Nardole said, scraping the Doctor's hair off of his forehead. "And me."

The Doctor shivered under his touch. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah. You. Sorry."

"C'mon," Nardole said, trying and failing to get a grip on the Doctor's arm. "Let's get us cleaned up."

The TARDIS had, by Nardole's count, at least 53 showers and baths; he shoved the Doctor through the door of one and found himself another. Rinsing the day off, like. Washing all of it off. He came out squeaky-clean and pink-skinned, warm and relatively happy and bundled up in a supremely fluffy bathrobe.

He sat down on the bed cross-legged and waited. Eventually, the Doctor emerged, equally scrubbed and flushed. He patted the mattress beside him, and the Doctor paused, considered, and headed over eventually.

"So," Nardole said, as the Doctor said "It's just..."

You first, Nardole motioned.

"I'm done with this," the Doctor exhaled.

"You are. And you're not at all, at the same time. Right? You love this. Even the goo. Especially the goo." He nudged the Doctor's shoulder, like friendly hey-c'mon-now.

The Doctor laughed begrudgingly, and leaned into the nudge. Together they slowly fell back onto the mattress.

"I hated the goo and wish to never experience that again," Nardole clarified. He leaned away - the Doctor making a noise they'd promised to never refer to as a whine - and grabbed a batch of chips off the nightstand. The TARDIS always supplied what was needed. Hot and fresh and with the vinegar on top. He waved the paper cone at the Doctor.

One chip falling out and landing just about directly into the Doctor's mouth. "That's your plan, then," he said, taking with his mouth full.

"Eh?"

"Keep me well-fed. Fat and happy."

"I mean. You are looking a bit healthier, these days." Nardole propped himself on his elbow and patted the faint bit of pudge above the Doctor's waistband in what he hoped was a positive, encouraging way. "Got a long way to go before you catch up to me, though." He fell back down, curled around the Doctor, partially for emphasis, letting his belly press against the Doctor's side.

"Shut it."

"Use your words. The nice ones."

"Please...be quiet? For a bit?"

"Right, yeah." Nardole sighed, and let himself relax. They wouldn't ever mention how the Doctor eased and extended his embrace in kind. And they wouldn't say the word 'embrace', either. Or 'hug'. 'Temporary physical contact with no emotional implications', that might do it. For now, anyway.

#12/nardole #twelth doctor #nardole #dw fanfic #twelvedole #s o f t b o y s #look if we've invented a pairing that centers around being nice and eating food #like im gonna write the shit out of that pairing ok #the world sucks and i need cuddly softboys to guide me thru

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ineverhadmyinternetphase · 8 years ago

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A Familiar Kind of Love - Chapter 17

Genre: Chaptered, ace/aro (flux and other experiences including but not limited to queerplatonic relationships), self discovery, witches, slow burn, getting together (eventually and in a mixed romantic/platonic way), RP format

Warnings: inaccurate herbology/plant & medicine stuff, self-esteem issues & confused hierarchy systems between familiars & witches (that does get resolved), threatened non-con (later, warned in chapter, and non-explicit), explicit discussions of nudity/sexual content but no actual smut, light experiences of ace/aro discrimination & feelings of discomfort/dysphoria during self-discovery, swearing

Summary: Born in a world full of magic, Dan spends his days running an apothecary and curing the sick. Potions and antidotes are his only friends, and he lives a happy life of quiet solitude - until a familiar he never wanted takes it all away. Forced to make a decision that’s life or death for one of them, Dan and Phil have to learn to co-exist together, entering a journey of self-discovery… and a familiar kind of love. Ace/Aro

Word Count: 10,967 this chapter

Thank you to @vanillasolitude who we could not have done this without. Every inch of their commentary and editing was a huge confidence boost, and we can not thank Emily enough for even being willing to do this with us. Seriously, it was a mammoth task and Emily just completely rose to the occasion, so giant thanks from us!

Updates: Monday & Wednesday & Friday

Disclaimer: In no way do I claim that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil.

For reference, @insanityplaysfics is Phil, @ineverhadmyinternetphase is Dan

(Previous) (Masterlist) (AO3)

Warnings this chapter: attempted rape, harassment, recovery.

PSA: It is never the victim's fault in situations like this, but victims can often feel this way, so keep that in mind and please stay safe while reading this chapter. It is not unusual for the body to have a physical reaction to harassment even when the victim doesn’t want what’s happening. Remember that any physical reactions do not make the harassment okay in any shape or form. If you are in need of help or just need someone to talk to, please visit this website (UK: http://www.nhs.uk/Livewell/Sexualhealth/Pages/Sexualassault.aspx) (US: https://centers.rainn.org/)

Also, to cheer you guys up a little for what’s about to come, and also with the best timing ever, someone has made us art! Actually, two people have made us art, we’re both just chronic sufferers of brain fog as we explained last chapter, and didn’t think to link the art from last time! So anyway, please please go and reblog these two pieces of art that were done for our phanfic, because we are both so insanely happy that anyone would want to make anything for us, and to be honest, they are both the most amazing things we have ever seen! Seriously, I’m still flipping the fuck out personally xoxo Eliza

(<a href=”http://cosmicphandom2k16.tumblr.com/post/153401277829/to-my-dear-ineverhadmyinternetphase-and”>Cat Phil</a>)

(<a href=”http://silentorator.tumblr.com/post/155779762510/dan-was-so-warm-so-comfortable-and-his-arms”>Scene from Chapter 13</a>)

Chapter Seventeen

Phil woke up multiple times in the night. The first time, it was because he was starving, and he ended up figuring out how to make cereal by pressing against Dan a little and whispering the words into his mind. It encouraged Dan to shove some kind of memory into Phil's mind, and he grabbed the box of Country Crisps to eat, using his magic to spoon mouthfuls of the dry food into his mouth, reassured by Dan's half-dreamy thought that that was okay to do. He washed it down with some milk afterwards, and then climbed back into bed with Dan, who murmured something Phil didn't catch and then cradled Phil back in his arms.

He woke up again sometime later with the urgent need to pee, and, unused to the feeling, forced himself to change into his human form to use the bathroom, and then changed back despite the pain that came with it so he could curl up in Dan's arms again.

The third time he woke up, Dan seemed annoyed with all of Phil's fussing, grumbling and shoving at him a bit in his half delirious state, so Phil decided that he should probably just get up for the day, and climbed back out of bed for the final time. Deciding to stay in his feline form, Phil left the house with a quick pop with the idea to go about a stroll in the neighborhood, thinking he might possibly be able to make some friends this way.

Phil hadn’t been outside for more than five minutes before he realized that there were a lot of cats, a fact that absolutely excited him. He’d seen animals and familiars interact in his own world before, so he knew they’d get along, and the first alley he wandered into with a few yowling cats, Phil bounded over and started to make friends.

It turned out Phil was a very sociable feline, as before he knew it, he was leaping and bounding through the city with five other cats, all of whom were pleased to have a new friend. They rolled about in a park a little ways off, and avoided the humans more than Phil might have done if he were alone, but it was overall fun to play with them. In fact, it was just like it used to be back in the familiar world, when Phil had played with the other cats, all leaping and bounding on each other and making an overall mess.

These cats were just as fun, hissing and spitting at each other as they played, with one overly motherly cat coming and knocking them over when they got too rough. There was one, cat, however, that Phil did not like very much. His name was Heric, and every time he’d knock Phil over and get him on his back, he’d make an attempt to lick at Phil’s skin, pressing his face and paws into Phil’s fur and purring like he had the intent of something more. Phil didn’t like it, and he kept pulling away, unnerved by the way that his body was beginning to react to the touches, and growing more and more upset each time it happened.

Heric and the other cats didn’t seem to notice Phil’s upset, so he played with them for a little while longer, just until the sun started to come up, before deciding that he really should head home now, partially wanting to get away from Heric, and partially craving the understanding comfort of his witch.

After bidding his new friends goodbye, Phil started to trot home, relieved to be away from the presence of Heric, but disgruntled when he could feel his fur standing on end, a scent he definitely did not agree with filling the air around him and making him the perfect prey for the wrong kind of cat.

Unfortunately for Phil, that wrong kind of cat remained to be Heric, as he soon found out in an alley away from Dan’s back garden. The sound of a small, male yip interrupted the perfect silence of the early morning dawn, and Phil jumped, whirling around to find Heric prowling near him.

His heart started to beat very suddenly faster, and he cowered into himself, backing away slowly, as he stared at Heric, who was growing steadily closer and closer. Phil’s body, working against him, was reluctant to move further away, and suddenly, Heric was right there at his side.

"What are you doing here?" Phil asked, meowing at the other cat who was not a familiar like Phil. Heric purred, and brushed up against Phil in a way that told Phil exactly his intentions, causing Phil to jump back from him, startled and uncomfortable. "I'm not interested," he insisted.

"Your heat says otherwise," Heric replied, sniffling the air haughtily. It took Phil a second to realise what he meant, and if he could have, he would have blushed at the realization he was talking about parts of Phil that no one should talk about, not to mention the scent in the air that Phil was mostly definitely disgusted with.

"Excuse me?" he stuttered, heart like a hummingbird by now. He suddenly wished he’d just popped back home, and hadn’t wasted time trotting through town. Why was this cat behaving like this? He didn’t even know Phil, and it wasn’t as if they could properly mate and have kits. Were animals in the human world just as bad as the humans when it came to having sex for pleasure then, unlike what Phil had thought before?

Phil was beginning to panic a little. He could smell something strange on Heric, and he didn't like the way he kept trying to rub up against Phil, occasionally managing to lick at his skin. Phil's tail tucked up between his legs as he backed away from the mangy cat who he suddenly held a very strong distaste for, and he hissed at him, baring his teeth as he went.

"I'm not interested," he insisted again, sending a flurry of panic through to Dan, trying to alert his witch and wake him up, but he didn't get a response as quickly as he would have liked, and he found his ears going sideways in agitation. He couldn't focus enough to make himself change to human in order to force the cat to stop harassing him, and he could feel his magic beginning to go a little crazy.

Unfortunately for him, he could also smell that his power seemed to only increase Heric's arousal for him.

“Please go away,” he whined, despite the fact that his body was not reacting the way he wanted it too. In fact, it only seemed to be encouraging Heric, and his body quite clearly wanted something that Phil did not.

When Dan woke properly, his first instinct was to reach for Phil. There was an absence of warm fur on his chest, though, and he blinked his eyes open with a frown, glancing down. There wasn't a Phil leaning against him.

"Phil?" Dan asked through a yawn, scratching at his eyes as he sat up. He glanced to his pillow, assuming Phil had rolled off him and curled up there instead, but it was empty. With a surprised blink, Dan turned to glance around the rest of his room, but there was no sign of Phil anywhere.

Had he turned human again, for some reason, and gone to sleep on the couch?

Dan pulled on a robe and stumbled out into the sitting room, blinking himself awake. "Phil?" There was still no sign of him anywhere. Starting to get worried, Dan checked the bathroom and his desk before determining that his flat was definitely Phil-less and he was allowed to start panicking now.

Phil? Dan called through the bond as he instantly went back to his room to pull on some clothes. He was getting a confused rush of thoughts which told him Phil was still alive, but he had no idea where Phil could be. Only that it wasn't here. Where did you go?

Quite suddenly, Phil finally heard Dan's call of his name through the bond, and Phil whined back, pressing his mind so close to Dan's that Dan should be able to see what he was seeing - a very aroused feral cat trying to come onto Phil when Phil really, really didn't want him to. His skin crawled at the very smell of this cat's desire, and he hissed and spat again, striking out with a heavy claw when he tried to move in again.

Dan's relief at finally getting an answer from Phil didn't last very long. As soon as he heard his desperate whine and got an idea of the situation, Dan's eyes widened and he let out a growl of anger. Someone else was trying to touch his Phil. And not even anyone deserving - a stupid mangy alley cat who'd decided to come along and make a nuisance of himself.

Well, that cat would find out that you didn't mess with Phil without some serious consequences.

I'm coming, hold on, Dan pressed through the bond, accompanied with as many comforting thoughts as possible. He could feel how upset and scared Phil was, and Dan’s eyes narrowed further. He wouldn't be allowing this to happen, no-one should upset Phil.

Dan was down the stairs and out of the door as quickly as possible, following his link to Phil to an alley just beyond his back garden until he found them. It was still dark, not even dawn yet, and Dan was caught between wondering what on earth had possessed Phil to go outside at this hour and frantically worrying about his safety.

Phil wasn't sure how long he could wait for Dan, terrified as he was and watching as his magic began to throw about the trash in the alley, creating a mini tornado that didn't seem to dissuade Heric at all. Phil whined, trying to focus on the calming thoughts Dan was sending through to him, but it was difficult to do when all he could see was Heric and the way his body was preparing for -

As soon as he found the alley, Dan pushed his fingers forward and sent a spark of magic at the other cat. It shot up into the air with a surprised yowl, which gave Dan a good amount of satisfaction. He left the cat hovering there and instead ran to Phil, bending down and scooping him straight into his arms.

"Phil!" Dan spoke aloud, cradling his trembling body against his chest and holding him tight. "Are you okay? Did that mangy beast hurt you?"

And then Dan was there, and Heric was being zapped and held in mid air by Dan's magic. Dan's arms came around Phil quickly and easily, drawing him into his body and against his chest as he checked over him, words soft and sincere and honestly kind of funny. Phil was shaking with revulsion and fear, but Dan was there, and he was already making it better as he pushed at Phil's paws and checked his sides. Phil knew he was fine, but Dan didn't, and he let him have his moment.

'M fine, he managed, ducking his face into Dan's neck. The gross feelings that Heric had caused in Phil were not fading as quickly as he would have liked. His paws found Dan's chest, and he dug his nails in, clinging to him and curling into his body.

Dan winced a bit when claws dug into his chest, but he was also kind of glad of the reminder that Phil was here and alive and okay. He cradled Phil to him gently, doing a thorough check of his sides and face and tail. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any physical damage, but Dan did not believe that Phil was fine, not with the way he was trembling and the repulsed thoughts he could sense through their bond. He attempted to lift Phil away from his shirt, wanting to look him in the eyes.

Phil didn't want to be moved. His nails stayed tangled in Dan's shirt even as Dan tried to pull him away from his chest, and he only let go because he lost his hold. He felt like Dan could see the wild, horrified light in his eyes, and it upset him because he didn't want Dan to have to see that. Dan shouldn't have to feel Phil's panic, but... but he'd just been so terrified of being touched by something other than Dan that he'd freaked out, not to mention the fact that Phil had been able to tell this cat had wanted more from him, something Phil wasn't even willing to give Dan.

Hey, Dan murmured softly into his mind, picking Phil up so he could look into his eyes. I've got you. He's not going to touch you, you're safe with me, I've got you right here.

Holding Phil back against his chest, Dan glanced with angry eyes up to the cat hovering above him, still yowling with panicked eyes. Dan's magic was strong, the spell holding him there more instinctual than he was used to. Dan might have to write down how to do it when he got home.

"Shall I fly him away somewhere?" Dan murmured into Phil's ear, still holding him against his chest. "Somewhere far away from you, so he won't ever be bothering you again?”

Phil made a long, drawn out whining noise as Dan looked at him, and tried to calm down as Dan promised him that he was fine. But he did, he did touch me. He did, he whined, trying to shove the thoughts at Dan to show him why Phil still felt his skin crawling, why he felt so disgusted and dirty and wrong. He didn't want anyone licking him, touching him, and his eyes shined with unshed tears as he tried to scramble back into the crook of Dan's neck. He just felt so dirty, and bad, and he just wanted this cat to go away.

Still, as Dan let him go and Phil was able to claw his way up to Dan's shoulder, practically winding around his neck with his tail tucked up between his legs, Phil could still think at least a little rationally.

He has friends, he told Dan. Just send him home. I won't - I won't go near them again.

Phil shuddered at the very idea of it, wishing he could just take a freaking bath in the comfort of his own home. He licked erratically at his paws, but it wasn't what he wanted.

Dan bit his lip when Phil mentioned friends, knowing that he couldn't just send the cat away. Plus, he wanted to pay attention to calming Phil down, like he wanted to, rather than dealing with a stupid cat who didn't know what he'd got himself into. In fact, if the terrified wailing was anything to go by, then the cat wouldn't be doing this again.

Dan still sent a flicker of magic right up the cat's butt, though, and grinned at the yowl he got in return. Then he lowered the cat back down to the ground and sent him on his way. The cat scampered away as fast as he could, not looking back for even an instant.

With that dealt with, Dan could finally turn his attention back to the wriggling, crying Phil who was currently hiding in his neck. His claws were digging into Dan's shoulder, holding him tight, and the panic and fright Dan still felt from him wasn't fading. Dan understood why as soon as he saw the way the cat had licked and touched Phil, the strange scent that still seemed to surround Phil, and as soon as he saw that, Dan scooped Phil back up to his face and littered the top of his head with kisses.

Phil wasn't paying any attention to what Dan did to the cat, but he did hear a loud yowl and then the sounds of panicked, high pitched meowing that Dan wouldn't be able to hear as the cat seemed to take off running in order to get away. With him went the scent of arousal and the uncomfortable prickling it had done to Phil. He could sense his own pheromones had been reacting to the cat’s, and it made him feel even more dirty even as Dan picked him back up and littered the top of his head with kisses.

Phil almost wanted to tell Dan he didn't deserve them because he'd had some kind of reaction, but his mind was telling him that it was not his fault, that it was mere instinct and biology, and that helped him to relax into Dan's touches, even as he couldn't shake off the distressed feelings swirling in his chest and stomach. His legs fought against Dan until Dan finally let him cuddle back into his chest, and he hid his face there as Dan's arms wrapped more securely around him, effectively shielding him from the world.

It's alright, it's alright, you aren't dirty, you're mine, Dan whispered fiercely into Phil's mind. He let Phil hide back against his chest, but Dan didn't let him go. Instead, he wrapped his hands fully around Phil's tiny, trembling frame and used just the tiniest amount of his healing magic to brush gently over Phil's fur. It moved like a soft flame, gently curling through him and hopefully calming him down, letting him feel cleansed.

You're mine, and I'll never let anyone hurt you, Dan promised, holding Phil gently and petting wherever he could. I promise I'm right here. You're safe now, Phil.

Phil felt the trail of magic slip down his spine and through his fur, then, and he relaxed as the sensation of something scrubbing over his body began to take away the awful sensation of that other cat having licked him. It actually felt as though Dan were burning away every last inch of where that cat had touched him, and Phil shivered under the welcomed sensation, whimpering and yowling into Dan's chest not because it hurt, but because suddenly, Phil just needed to cry - and this was the only way he knew he could.

Phil's whimpers broke his heart, but Dan cradled him as close as he could and filled the bond with comfort and hugs, hoping that some part of them got through to Phil. He could feel that his magic should be working, and Phil would hopefully be getting some of the good sensations. Dan didn't expect this to just go away, though. He'd treated people who'd been harassed before, and he knew Phil would need comfort and warmth more than ever now.

Dan kept up a steady stream of calm comfort on the walk back to his flat, and as soon as they stepped back into the shop, Dan paused and glanced over at the door. He wanted a way to make Phil feel safe - to know that no one could interrupt them, could get inside and attack them again. He just wanted Phil to know that nothing bad was going to happen. So Dan drew on his magic for a moment, flicking his fingers carefully at the door, and set up a shield to block out any intruders. Hopefully that would do the trick. Dan took Phil straight to the stairs, then, and back into the bedroom just as the sun was beginning to rise.

Dan settled against his pillows and placed Phil carefully in his lap, not surprised when Phil instantly clawed his way back against his chest. Dan kept his hands surrounding Phil, scratching gently at the spot behind his ear, and soothed him as best he could. Phil was still whimpering, and Dan was sure if he was human he'd be crying.

It's alright, I've got you now, Dan promised gently. You're safe. We're home, and you're safe.

It just - it just hurt. All Phil could think was I didn't like I didn't like it I didn't like it, as Dan carried him as carefully and as quickly as he could back home, tossing up a shield on the door of his shop the second they passed through it. Somehow, it helped to soothe Phil's mind that the cat couldn't come back and bother him anymore, and he was able to relax into Dan's soft feelings of comfort through the bond. He was still whimpering when Dan settled him down on his lap.

Unhappy with that, Phil clawed his way back up against Dan's chest, ducking his face into his neck and settling there with small little whimpers as he clung to his witch, whose fingers were soothing and gentle as they scratched behind his ear and replaced the unwanted touches from the other cat with the desired ones from his witch. There were no... second motives to what Dan was doing for Phil, no darker intentions to Dan petting him, and so he felt okay, though he still shook and shuddered at the thought of earlier.

He couldn’t seem to relax, not completely, choosing instead to curl into Dan and just let him soothe him.

Don't let me go.

Dan cradled Phil gently under his chin, letting him dig his claws in slightly too tight and whimper against his neck. He kept up his soothing strokes to Phil's fur, hoping it was calming him, and soothed the panicked thoughts from Phil with gentle reminders that he wasn't alone anymore, that Dan was here and never going to let him go.

I know you didn't want it, it's okay, Dan murmured back, able to pick up from Phil's scattered memories exactly what that cat had been after. He narrowed his eyes, holding in a growl. How dare someone threaten his Phil with that? When Dan knew that Phil was just as repulsed by it as he was?

You never have to do that, Phil, Dan promised him fiercely. I'm never going to let that happen. You're safe, I promise you.

Phil was still whimpering a bit, so Dan wrapped his hands fully around Phil and cradled him against his neck, letting him cling on exactly where he needed to. I will never let you go, Dan swore, and meant it. He could feel something shift inside him again, and whatever panic he'd had that morning about being close to Phil dissipated entirely. Even if Phil was human right now, Dan would never let him go, and he opened the bond to show Phil just that. I'll hold you. I will never let you go, Phil.

So maybe it hadn't exactly been an invitation, but Phil took it as one - or at least his magic did. In seconds, he was going from one form to another, body convulsing and changing much faster than ever before. The clothes Phil had been wearing the night before appeared with him, as they had every other time he'd changed, and he collapsed onto Dan in a tired, miserable heap as he began to cry properly. He smushed his face into Dan's neck and wound his arms around Dan's waist as he felt Dan do the same.

He just needed... to not be a cat, right now. He'd wanted to change forms so badly when the other cat had been harassing him, but the fear had blocked him, and he hated that strong emotions could mess up his magic so much. What happened the next time someone came onto him? Dan's promise that he’d never have to do that calmed him, though, and he was able to relax and slump against Dan now that he'd stopped trembling so thoroughly. He was also suddenly exhausted, and grateful that in human form, it was much easier for him to sleep properly. He didn't think he could put up with just cat naps right now, not after what he'd just been through.

"I didn't want it," he mumbled one last time, already knowing that Dan knew, and that Phil had done nothing wrong. It was just... painful. He was glad to be in a different form right now, though, terrified of what it would feel like to have his fur and the gross sensation of pheromones and urgency somewhere it shouldn't be clogging his mind. He didn't want that, and he just needed his body to catch up with his head.

Being human helped more than Phil could say, and he relaxed even more when Dan pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Dan was more than a bit taken aback when he suddenly had an armful of human Phil sprawled across his chest, but he adjusted quickly, understanding that Phil needed this right now. Dan had apparently fluxed back into not panicking at this, and he breathed an inward sigh of relief that his chest didn't constrict and his skin didn't crawl at having Phil against him.

Instead, Dan drew Phil closer and kissed the top of his head, shushing him gently. "I know. I know you didn't want it, and you never have to do that. It's just biology, you can ignore it," Dan murmured into Phil's hair. Phil relaxed against him a little, and Dan sighed, whispering a soft “Sleep,” in the hopes that it would encourage Phil to rest and relax against him.

With the knowledge that Dan wouldn't let anything bad happen to him, Phil relaxed against him, and found that he was able to sleep, so exhausted and upset after the entire ordeal, that it came easily and more naturally than either man had been expecting. Still, sleep was a welcome relief when it came.

Phil could feel it soothing over the sad parts of his mind, relaxing him and making him feel more secure. It helped that Phil could feel that Dan had not left him, and he dreamt of nothing but playing with the other cats and the way Dan touched him when he thought Phil wasn't paying attention, little needy gestures like brushing against his hip to remind himself that Phil was there. He sighed in his sleep, happy that Dan was his and that he never had to give his witch up.

It was comforting to know that someone big and strong would always be there to protect Phil, the same Phil wished to always be there to help protect Dan. He was glad to know that when he reached for Dan, Dan would be there, and Phil would never have to suffer alone.

With Phil resting on his chest, Dan eased himself up a little so he was more upright and Phil was sprawled across his chest. Phil's head was tucked just over Dan’s heart, right where he'd been resting as a cat, and Dan had to bite back a smile. He lifted a hand carefully to tangle it in Phil's hair, happy when he gave a small sigh. Dan liked Phil there, could appreciate having him near again.

Dan, unlike Phil, had managed a mostly undisturbed night's sleep, but he was more than content to lay there and study Phil's sleeping features. He looked peaceful and calm now, which was certainly better than the fear and pain from earlier. Dan played with his hair gently and glanced out of the window, watching as the sun rose and listening to Phil's even breathing.

Sometime later, when Phil started stirring again, Dan leaned down to kiss his forehead, gently kissing him awake, and was suddenly hit with the urge to kiss Phil properly - on the lips, like he'd seen in films and books. Dan frowned. That came out of nowhere - he'd never felt the urge to do that before. Besides, he shouldn't without asking Phil first, and certainly not after Phil had felt so vulnerable.

Shaking the odd thought away, Dan instead ran his fingers through Phil's hair, smiling as he came awake slowly. "Hey. How are you doing?”

When Phil finally come back awake, it was with a kiss from Dan to his forehead that made Phil smile immediately, curling against Dan's chest a little bit more before he eventually pushed himself up. Dan's fingers were carding through his hair the same they carded through his fur, and Phil shuddered at the reminder. Fur. He didn't want fur. He couldn't stand fur right now.

Suddenly sitting up, Phil moved off of Dan to settle down next to him, suddenly feeling like he needed to be alone. He gripped Dan's duvet in his hands, and drew it up around him, curling into it and hiding as he laid back down.

"Okay," Phil huffed out. He did feel better, but he still felt kind of sick to his stomach, and regardless of the pleasant dreams he’d had all curled up with Dan like that, he could feel something uncomfortable brewing in his stomach.

Dan felt a tiny stab of hurt when Phil instantly twisted away from him to hide in the bedcover, but then he told himself not to be ridiculous. Phil was hurting and insecure still, and Dan had no right to be upset about not having enough contact considering the utter mess he'd made of the previous morning. So he gave himself a little shake and firmly told himself to get a grip. This was about Phil, not him.

"Are you sure?" Dan asked, keeping a careful distance from Phil so as to give him space if he needed it. He didn't want to spark any kind of bad reaction and trigger something from his harassment, so Dan kept a careful distance and his hands firmly to himself.

"It's okay if you're not okay," Dan added, tone conversational. "I mean. I probably wouldn't be. And you have to make up for my giant freak out of yesterday, after all." He managed a small smirk, turning to send Phil a soft glance. He was itching to reach out and hold him, but Phil had wrapped himself up pretty firmly in the bedcovers and was still looking very vulnerable. So Dan kept himself calm and still. Phil knew he was there if he needed him.

Dan shouldn't be allowed to make jokes. Phil was smiling before he knew it, staring up at Dan from the burrito he'd made of himself, and pushing one hand out of it in order to reach out blindly for one of Dan's. The feeling of rough fingers against his own was comforting rather than upsetting, and he clung hard to him, maintaining his distance but relieved to have the option to hold onto his only source of comfort. It was nice, just having Dan speak lowly to him, making fun of himself while also reassuring Phil that he didn't have to be okay right now.

"I -" he said. "Don't know how I feel," he admitted. He just knew that he wanted to be sick, and he wanted to cry some more, and he just didn't feel good. His body felt extra sensitive, and he was... he was scared. Of what, he didn't know, but he was currently wishing he could just curl up in a ball so the rest of the world couldn’t see him. That was the reason for his blanket cocoon as well - a need to just - be hidden, even for just a moment, even from Dan.

His Dan, the Dan that would always be there for him. He squeezed his eyes shut, and wasn't even surprised to find himself crying. He gasped out a small laugh.

"I guess I'm not. I just. Need to be alone," he finally decided, squeezing Dan's fingers one last time before letting him go. He closed his eyes, and rolled so his face was hidden too, and then he just stayed there with the nausea in his stomach and the fear and pain crowding his mind that something was wrong with him, even when he knew that nothing was.

Dan's heart broke a bit to see Phil struggling like this, battling against the pain and revulsion he so clearly felt. Dan itched to make it better, but at the same time, he knew there was nothing he could do. Phil had been hurt, and now he had to recover.

Well, Dan might not be able to take away the bad feelings, but he was a healer and he knew a thing or two about recovery.

"Okay. You can be alone." Dan patted the bed comfortingly away from Phil's body so he wasn't touching him, just letting him know he was there. "And remember - there is nothing wrong with you. And I love you, for the record."

Carefully, Dan clambered off the bed and sorted through his things before turning back to Phil, murmuring, "I'm going to jump in the shower, and then I'm going to make some soup again. You can have some when you're ready. And you know where I am - just call me through the bond if you need me."

Dan hovered for a moment longer, part of him reluctant to leave Phil this vulnerable, even though he knew Phil needed his space. So he said quietly, "Call me as soon as you need me, and I'll be right here. Take care, Phil." And then he reluctantly slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him to leave Phil alone in his safe space.

Phil bit back another laugh, half-sob half-relief, to hear Dan reassure Phil that he was loved, and that Dan didn't think anything was wrong with him or that he'd done anything wrong. It felt good to have that reassurance from more than just his own mind trying to force back thoughts he knew weren't true, and he was able to relax a little bit more as he cried, face scrunched up in pain. This was how Dan's patients must feel when he took care of them; safe and loved. Dan was so kind hearted. Phil felt like the luckiest familiar on the Earth.

But right now, he just needed Dan to go. So as Dan kept talking, Phil didn't answer him, hoping he'd take the hint that while Phil appreciated everything he was saying, everything he was promising, Phil just wanted him to go.

Eventually, he did, and Phil could hear it as the shower flicked on. His mind flicked to the time he'd seen Dan naked, and he nearly threw up right then and there.

There was nothing wrong with Dan's naked body - in fact, Phil still thought Dan was beautiful and clothes were in some ways unnecessary - but there were new connotations on it now. Though Phil knew there was no pressure for that to ever happen between them, the recent harassment and the fear that Phil would be touched against his will made it difficult for him to even stand to imagine a situation where that possibility was there. Dan being naked in the other room was that possibility, despite him knowing that Dan would never act on it, and… well, it made Phil’s mind put pressure on him to want something that he never thought he would.

It hurt, knowing that he couldn't even think of Dan without fear right then, but Phil pushed it all away as best as he could in the hopes that, if he rested long enough, and let himself fall apart long enough, he might be okay. His skin still felt a little like it was crawling, but mostly, he just felt a strange sense of guilt and wrongness that he knew was not his.

Dan went through the motions of the day without even thinking about it, his mind ever fixed on the prospect of Phil curled up, alone and suffering, in his room hiding under the bedsheets. Twice Dan almost went in, but the thought of disrupting Phil when he'd so clearly needed space and alone time felt like another violation. So, as much as it hurt, Dan treaded carefully, and didn't disturb the room.

After his shower, he pottered about the kitchen, indeed setting some soup simmering and then, more out of habit than anything else, got a cauldron heating up over the fire to start making some more potions. It was Sunday today, and the shop was usually closed other than emergencies, as was common in the witching world. The people knew to come straight to Dan's flat if there was a problem, which Dan was sincerely hoping there wouldn't be. He had his own patient sitting in the bedroom.

It was a few hours later when Phil finally started to feel simultaneously better, and worse, finding that he needed Dan more than he’d thought he would. He didn’t feel so well, and he was suddenly unsure if it was related to what had just happened at all. Dan, he called, too tired to get up. He'd rolled over by now, the duvet too hot against his skin. His head hurt, and he was growing even more nauseous than he had been before. Dan, he whispered again, Dan.

Dan was just absent-mindedly stirring together some kind of draught when he heard a pained little whisper of his name echo through their bond. In an instant, Dan dropped his ladle and span, moving straight to the bedroom door, finding himself hesitating at the door.

Phil had definitely been calling for him, but Dan still didn't want to violate his privacy anymore, not in this state. No matter how worried Dan was, he had to make sure he didn't scare Phil anymore.

So Dan knocked twice to announce his presence before carefully pushing the door open, hovering in the frame for all of two seconds until he caught sight of Phil bundled up in the bedcovers looking sweaty and miserable. "Phil?" he murmured aloud, rushing to the bedside but too afraid to speak through their bond in case he made Phil scared again. His hands hovered over Phil's body, aching to check for fever or sickness or, well, anything really, but also not wanting to touch without permission. "What is it? Can you tell me what's wrong?"

It was kind of disheartening to have Dan knock on his own bedroom door and then hover over Phil like he wanted to touch but was unsure if he should. Phil's first thought was that Dan didn't want to, not really, and that it was the healer in him wanting to check if he was sick while the personal bit of him didn't want to touch someone who'd been touched by another. The rest of him, though, fought that first thought with all that he had, even as he shrunk back into the mattress and away from Dan, because he knew that wasn't true. Dan didn't blame Phil for that morning, and most importantly, didn't care if Phil had been touched by someone else. Just a few hours ago he'd been willingly stroking his hands down Phil's tiny cat body to soothe away the disgusting feeling Heric had left behind. It was obvious, when Phil was thinking straight, that Dan didn't want to upset him anymore.

Too bad that seemed an impossible task to manage. No matter what Dan did right now, Phil's mind was too hurt to think clearly, and he wished this was easier.

Pushing his way out of the duvet, Phil reached out for Dan with soft, sad eyes, begging his witch to come and hold him.

Dan didn't waste a second, climbing into bed with Phil and drawing him to his chest, arms wrapping securely around his back while Phil pressed his face against Dan's heart, breathing him in.

He wasn't shaking anymore, but he did feel hot, hotter even than he did as a cat, and he wasn't sure exactly why. All he knew was that he wanted Dan's attention as he trailed soft little pecks up his shirt and eventually to his shoulder, where he nuzzled Dan's neck a little before pulling back and stuffing his face back into Dan's t-shirt.

Belatedly, Phil realized that Dan had asked him a question, but Phil merely shook his head. "Hot," he ended up mumbling, and drew his body into a small ball so he could wrap himself closer to Dan's.

Dan held onto Phil with no small amount of relief. After so long without seeing him or touching him, it was good to have him close again. The repulsion from yesterday seemed like a far distant memory now as Dan cradled Phil against him, recognising that Phil needed reassurance of some kind. Well, Dan could give him that, would give anything to have Phil feeling better.

Without hesitation, Dan's hands wrapped around Phil, holding him securely as Phil buried his face into Dan's chest. The kisses placed there were like small questions, and Dan answered by pressing his own lips softly to the top of Phil's head. The weird urge from this morning resurfaced, then, and Dan was tempted to tilt Phil's chin up to face him so that he could kiss him elsewhere - his cheeks, his lips. But he shook the thought away again when Phil buried his face back into Dan's chest.

The murmured word had Dan worrying against instantly, and he cuddled Phil closer. "Hot? You feel hot?" That was strange - the room felt cool to Dan, they were currently in the grips of winter and the fire in the lounge didn't warm up the bedroom. He bit his lip, nudged Phil gently, and bit back a smile when Phil instantly hid back in his chest. "I'm sorry, I just need you to tilt your head up for me? I'm not going to let you go."

When Dan nudged gently at Phil, clearly trying to rouse him from Dan's chest, Phil shook his head and shoved himself back into that warm place where he could feel Dan's heartbeat, The last thing he wanted was Dan making him pull away right now when all he wanted was reassurance. He was tired of being alone, and while he'd needed that earlier, now he just needed Dan and the comfort of a pair of arms that actually loved him. It took Dan promising that he wouldn't let Phil go for Phil to willingly tilt his head up, but he eventually allowed it, eyes closed and brow furrowed in pain.

Dan kept up a soothing stroke to Phil's back as he coaxed his head away from his shirt just enough to place the back of his hand against Phil's forehead. He frowned at what he felt. Phil was burning up. He definitely had a high temperature, was maybe catching a cold - could familiars catch human illnesses? Maybe Phil's human body hadn't been around enough people to build up any resilience to illness yet.

Dan hugged Phil close again, moving the hand against his forehead back into his hair. Illness, he could deal with, but explaining it to Phil might be a bit more difficult. He thought over his words carefully, murmuring them softly. "Phil? I'm going to get you a potion, to make you feel better. I think you're getting sick. Will you be okay in here while I go and do that? You can come with me if you'd rather," he offered - Phil had been a bit clingy so far. It was surprising after he'd wanted to be alone, but Dan was more than happy to hold him, to provide physical reassurance that he would always be here for Phil.

Phil moaned softly at the feel of Dan's cold hand pressing against his forehead. His eyes fluttered shut, and he sunk into the feeling, wishing Dan could touch him everywhere so his entire body could get some relief. Was he as sticky as he felt? That was gross. He wished he could have a bath then as well, maybe hold Dan's hand the entire time and pretend that it wasn't overly intimate if Dan watched him trying to clean himself up. Maybe Dan could help him, in the least intimate way possible, but the thought made Phil shudder. Maybe one day that would be okay, maybe one day he'd be alright with Dan seeing his naked body and not having either of them worry that anything more would come of it, but for right now, Phil didn't want anyone to see him, let alone if he was wearing no clothes.

He was shoved out of his thoughts by Dan speaking up, and Phil's eyes fluttered open to look at him. The first thing he saw were Dan's soft, pink lips, and his cheeks turned red as an image rose unbidden to his mind of Dan and Phil kissing there. He wasn't going to deny that some part of him wanted that, but he also cringed away from it, terrified that wasn't something Dan would want, or that Phil would like.

"Sick?" Phil mumbled in an attempt to distract himself. "Don't - don't leave me," he begged, and pressed himself tighter to Dan. The thought of Dan abandoning him was like having his heart ripped out through his throat - Phil couldn't have it. His hands came up to snag in Dan's shirt, and he choked on a small moan.

"Can it wait?" he asked, knowing it wouldn't be that easy to take Phil with him to get the potion, but not ready for Dan to leave.

Dan couldn't hold back a soft chuckle when Phil immediately pressed himself closer to Dan at the mere suggestion of Dan leaving. He wasn't laughing at Phil, not really, but he was just so cute like this. He could definitely get used to Phil being clingy. Even when Dan was repulsed, like he had been yesterday, he thought he could like holding Phil. He didn't feel trapped when he was the one giving the comfort.

"It can't wait when you're suffering," Dan murmured back to him, a chuckle still in his voice. He didn't take his arms away from Phil, though, instead stroking his fingers through Phil's hair in around the same spot he'd scratch Phil as a cat. He settled back against the pillows and brought Phil with him, letting him splay out against his chest. "I'm not going to leave you, though, don't worry. We can wait until you feel strong enough to come with me."

After all, Dan really wasn't going to complain when he had Phil back in his arms. He'd been scared earlier, about how Phil was feeling, about how to make him feel better after what happened with the other cat. He didn't know how to deal with that kind of thing, but an illness, Dan could heal. It was his trade, he was confident in it. This was something he could help Phil with.

Dan seemed to always know what to do, what to say, and Phil tried not to let the thought make him cry in his overly emotional state, falling with Dan as Dan made himself comfortable laying back on the bed and taking Phil with him. His fingers were pressed to that spot he liked as a cat, and his nails were scratching it lightly, and Phil couldn't help it - the tears just came. There was no noise, no nothing, just the tears, and his face all crinkled up in pain and sorrow. He didn't know why he was crying when he liked this, but it all felt too much, too overwhelming, so he buried himself further into Dan's chest and just lay there, breathing softly, and trying not to let himself lose control.

His fingers tightened on and off in Dan's shirt, and he wondered how ridiculous he must look, all sprawled out with gangly limbs against Dan. He wondered if other people would look at them and think they were a bad match, or a good one, and then banished the thought away.

He was still hot, but Dan was cool, and it was helping.

The tears eventually stopped as well, until Phil was just breathing evenly against Dan, face turned to the side so he could press his ear over Dan's heart to listen to his heartbeat, and eyes open as he stared at the far wall. Dan hadn't said anything yet, but Phil could feel that he was anxious to get Phil his medicine.

He glanced upwards. Dan was staring at him with sad, worried eyes, fingers still tangled in Phil's hair.

He rolled over, climbed off of Dan, and lay back down with a huff. Maybe Dan would get the thing that Phil didn't want to move for anymore.

Dan bit his lip, feeling a pang of regret because Phil had moved off him and was looking all sad and grumpy, and there were tear stains on his cheeks, and he was sad. Sad and sick and miserable, Dan could feel all that through their bond. Dan could feel his own eyes burning a bit, but pushed the thought away irritably. He just hated seeing Phil like this, sad and hurting and alone.

"Hey," Dan murmured, reaching out to link his hand with Phil's again. "I said I wasn't going to leave you. I just need to get you better - you've got a high temperature. The feeling hot thing? That's your body trying to fight off an infection. I can fix it, don't worry. I'm good at fighting illness." His lips twitched a bit, and he reached out to tuck Phil's sweaty fringe out of his eyes. His thumb moved to wipe the tear stains off Phil's cheeks, and Dan got caught up with staring at Phil's lips again.

He could do it. He could lean forwards right now and kiss Phil, show him that he wasn't alone even when he was being moody. But Dan wasn't going to. Not without at least explaining it to Phil first, and checking it was okay with both of them. Dan had no idea where the sudden urge had come from, after all.

"I'll go and make you a potion, but I'll be back super quick," he promised, leaning down to press his lips against Phil's burning forehead instead. He squeezed his fingers once more before climbing off the bed, turning back to glance once more at Phil on his way out of the room. "Just shout if you need me." He tapped his head, then pointed at Phil, smiling again. "It's not like I can get far - you'll always have a direct line to my head."

With a final smile, Dan turned and left the room, leaving the door open behind him so Phil could hear him moving about the flat.

Dan always knew what to say. He really, really did. Grumpy and put out that Dan was going to have to leave him because Phil couldn't be bothered to get out of bed, Dan still knew how to soothe Phil, pressing gentle lips to Phil's forehead before he left, and then stopping to reassure Phil that he could always get Dan's attention if he needed it. There was nowhere Dan could go where he wouldn't hear it if Phil needed him, and that thought alone, that reminder alone, helped to relax Phil. It was made even better by Dan's forethought to leave his bedroom door open this time, and Phil quickly realised that Dan wasn't even bothering to go down to his office or into his shop. Instead, from the sounds of it, he was whipping up Phil a potion from his lounge.

Phil's lips twitched, and his eyes leaked more unwanted tears as he curled up into himself, just thinking of Dan. For a moment, he was fine, but then he found his chest was hurting, and he closed his eyes and nudged gently at the bond.

Phil could feel it as Dan pushed it open, allowing Phil in, and he watched through Dan's eyes as he brewed something to make Phil feel better. Phil's own mind pushed Dan's thoughts away, and he just focused on what Dan was seeing, doing, feeling instead. Being able to see through his witch’s eyes had never been something Phil had thought he'd want before now, but now he was clinging to it, happy for it, and able to calm down because Dan was there, and he was going nowhere.

The sensation of feeling Phil looking through his eyes was… new to Dan, to say the least. It took a moment for Dan to adjust to it. He could sense Phil was there, sure, but he couldn't actually hear any of his thoughts, and nor could Phil hear his. There wasn't a shield up, though, at least not one that Dan could sense. It was more like Phil was just a passenger, sitting there and feeling everything Dan did without being an active participant. It was… nice. A reminder that Dan was never alone, but in a good sense. He'd never have to worry about being lonely again.

Dan smiled, humming a small tune as he set about the familiar tasks of stirring his potion. A fever draught was one he'd been making for years, and the movements were automatic as he set the cauldron to boiling and added in the ingredients, giving it a stir when needed. It turned an unpleasant green colour, but Dan had learned years ago that adding a spot of rosemary in tended to make the taste a bit more appealing. Hopefully Phil wouldn't hate it too badly.

Once he was done, he poured the potion into a mug and then went to collect a bowl of soup, too, as it had finished simmering by now. Dan poured the leftovers into a container in the fridge and carried two bowls of soup and the mug of potion through into the bedroom, glad that he'd left the door open as he didn't really have a hand to spare to open it.

By the time that Dan seemed to be done with the potion, Phil had begun to doze off. The only thing keeping him awake was the fact that he kept sneezing, moaning as the feeling surged through him far more painfully than usual. He was so upset about it, his magic began to act up, casting storm clouds about the room that didn't rain, but threatened with thunder and lightening. Phil hoped Dan could make it all go away.

The sight Dan was met with was pretty miserable. Phil was curled up in a heap, and there were heavy thunderclouds hovering against his ceiling. It was a mark of how far Dan had come that he didn't instantly freak out, instead letting out a small sigh and making a soothing noise at Phil.

"Shove over," he said conversationally, allowing a trickle of magic to flow through the blond and ease Phil's tendencies towards wildness. He swirled comforting thoughts to Phil's miserable ones, blocking up the passages the magic tended to explode out of, and waved the thunderclouds away. They dissipated into the air slowly, reluctantly, but at least they were on their way out and weren't threatening to soak his bedroom anymore.

Dan set the two bowls of soup down onto the side and clambered back into bed, wasting no time in dragging Phil towards him. He held out the mug, saying, "I know it doesn't smell good, but you need to have it. I'm not going to cuddle you properly until you finish it all, and you have to try your soup, too. No arguments."

The storm clouds were going away, Phil could feel them, and Dan's magic was coursing through his body, soothing over Phil's wild magic with ease. He could feel the comforting thoughts soothing over his mind, comforting him, and he curled backwards until Dan had room to join him on the bed. Dan didn't leave him alone for very long, however, drawing Phil's body back into his lightly before beginning to speak.

A mug was in his face before he knew what was happening, and he was left to stare at it blankly for a moment before the smell hit him and Phil was jerking away. He and Dan were pressed together from shoulder to hip, but Phil wanted more. He tried to curl his body into Dan's to escape the mug being offered to him, but Dan wasn't having it, and before Phil knew it, Dan was threatening that Phil couldn’t have any real cuddles until he drank his medicine. Pouting, Phil glared up at Dan, but took the mug between his palms.

"I hate you," he muttered, nose wrinkling again at the smell that wafted over him. He'd much rather eat the soup Dan had made for him, but it didn't seem like he was going to be having that option until he'd drank the potion, first.

The first tentative sip wasn't terrible, and so Phil tilted the mug further so he could drink more. As the potion coated over his taste buds, however, his face scrunched up in disgust, and he swallowed as quickly as he could, not realising he'd been chugging the disgusting concoction until he'd managed to swallow it all down. Dan was looking at him with proud eyes, though, and that made it at least a little bit better as he moved to curl into his body after Dan had taken back the mug.

A quiet, tut-tut grabbed Phil's attention, and then there was a bowl in his hands, and he was grumbling as he settled back against the back of the bed, hardly touching Dan at all except along the sides of their bodies.

Dan was chuckling again, biting back a smile. Phil was undeniably cute when he was sick, and everything he was doing seemed to involve the quickest way to get back into Dan's arms. Dan wasn't going to give in that easily, though, no matter how adorable Phil might be. He was having his medicine and his soup, and only then would he be getting cuddles.

"I love you too," Dan answered with a roll of his eyes, though he was smiling a bit.

As soon as Phil was done with the potion, Dan pressed the soup into his hands, dodging Phil's attempts to curl back into his chest. Phil huffed in answer, looking at Dan with sad moody eyes. Dan just shook his head, biting back another smile. "Have your soup, and then I'll pay you proper attention. Honestly, none of my patients are this difficult." He poked Phil's shoulder with a chuckle, settling in next to him and laughing when Phil just grumbled in reply, keeping his distance.

Dan picked up his own soup, his stomach grumbling in satisfaction, but he barely tasted it as he watched Phil instead. He was a bit worried that Phil had managed to pick up a fever - though he supposed he shouldn't be surprised really. Phil had been around his patients, and PJ and Dan could have been carrying illnesses around without getting them. Phil wouldn't have as much resistance as they did. Dan made a mental note to make Phil take some preventative potions the next day, especially as they worked with potentially contagious patients all the time.

At least this fever didn't seem too bad. Phil was still conscious, if grumpy, and he seemed able enough to understand what Dan was saying. A few days of cuddles and rest, and hopefully he'd be right as rain again. Dan would just have to stave off his moods and possible magic explosions until then.

Dan was placating him, but Phil didn't care. He wanted proper attention and proper cuddles, and Dan wasn't giving them to him, so he was doing his damned best to force himself to drink down his soup as fast as he could. The problem came in that it was too hot to guzzle like he had the potion, and it was too good to ignore the taste of, and Phil ended up sighing in defeat and instead enjoying his meal, no matter how much he'd rather be curled back up in Dan's arms.

Dan started eating then as well, and even as Phil swallowed his down faster, far more hungry than he'd anticipated, probably from being outside all night, he realised that he couldn't very well force Dan to stop eating and cuddle him when he was done. He pouted at the thought, but felt his heart wilting a little with fondness and care. For all that Phil just wanted to cling to Dan, for as miserable as he felt, he would never do anything to interrupt Dan getting what he needed as well.

So, when Phil finished his soup, finding that Dan was merely half way done with his own, he merely pressed the bowl to his knees, and sat there staring blankly at it. He itched to take Dan's bowl away from him so they could get to cuddling faster, but he refrained, doing his damned best to behave himself in the hopes that Dan would stay with him for the better portion of the day if he was good.

Dan's lips twitched when he saw how Phil was pouting. It didn't take much to figure out it was because he'd swallowed his soup down quickly and was now staring at Dan with huge, sad eyes, but Dan was still eating and Phil didn't want to interrupt him. Dan snickered. It was amusing to watch Phil fighting with himself, but Dan would put him out of his misery soon enough.

"Come here," Dan laughed, lifting his bowl up and gesturing for Phil to lie down in his lap, which left enough room for Dan to keep eating with Phil lying there. Phil, of course, complied quickly, and Dan chuckled again. He wasn't complaining, though. Phil was a warm and comforting weight against his legs, and there was no worry that this would be anything other than innocent.

When Dan had finished his soup, he set the bowl to the side and finally turned all his attention onto Phil instead. He wrapped his arms around Phil and lifted his weight just for a moment, so that Dan could slide down onto his back and Phil could sprawl all across his chest again.

Dan chuckled softly, wrapping his arms tight around Phil and pressing another kiss to the top of his head. "Needy patient, you are," he chuckled and tugged Phil in to rest against him. "Don't worry, I promise not to force you to move until at least this evening, now."

Dan was everything that Phil could have ever wanted. He wasn't done eating, but he seemed to know that Phil needed him, as he shifted so Phil could lay in his lap while he finished up his meal, beckoning Phil to come here. Phil did so immediately, curling up with his head in Dan's lap and his limbs kind of tucked up into himself, sighing as he was allowed to relax. His eyes slipped closed as he dozed a little, mind a little fuzzy, until Dan finally finished his meal and shifted so Phil was laying sprawled across his chest instead.

Unable to defend himself, Phil reached up and swatted at Dan's shoulder for calling him needy, though he knew his witch was merely teasing him. He curled in tighter to his side, relieved to know Dan wasn't going to be making them move anymore, and just relaxed.

His breathing had gone more even as Dan reached up to wrap big, protective arms around his body, and he was still feeling warm, but not as hot as before. It seemed the medicine was already beginning to work, and Phil's pout slipped away, the furrow in his brow uncreasing, as he was finally given the chance to just be.

It was hardly ten a.m., surely, and it had already been the longest day of Phil's life.

There was more relief than Dan expected when Phil relaxed against him, seeming to become comfortable. All he responded to Dan's words was a swat to the shoulder, which had Dan grinning and chuckling again, but then Phil was collapsing against his chest and making himself comfortable there. Dan would hazard a guess that he didn't plan to move for the rest of the day, despite how early it still was.

Dan wasn't complaining. He relished in the chance to hold Phil, and anything that gave him an excuse to procrastinate from his work was alright in Dan's book.

So Dan settled down, his head resting against his pillows, and he sent Phil a fond smile. Phil looked adorable. His head was cushioned against Dan's chest, right over his heart, and his hair fanned out messily until it was sticking up in a near-perfect quiff. His cheeks were a little red from the fever, and his eyes were shut, and his arms were curled up to Dan as he nestled against him.

Dan smiled, wrapping his arms around Phil's back and stroking against him softly. His other hand tangled in Phil's hair again, scratching lightly. He half-expected to hear a purr, if only humans were capable of that.

The urge was there again - the urge to lean down and press kisses to Phil's head, to tilt his chin up until Dan could kiss his lips. Dan paused, allowing himself to properly contemplate it. The idea of his lips meeting Phil's, of kissing him softly and sweetly, was an undeniably pleasant one. Dan bit his lip, thinking it over, and resolved to bring it up with Phil later. He figured no harm could come from talking about it, at least, once Phil was well again.

#phanfic #iwritephanthings #insanityplaysfics #ace phan #aro phan #a familiar kind of love

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zeetheus · 7 years ago

Text

So, here’s a recap of the entire situation

From start to finish.

Because, believe me, I had no idea my ban would lead to 2 other completely innocent people getting banned for, essentially, asking staff what happened, and then expressing the desire to talk to them about it.

Not exaggerating.

On May 5th 2017, my Extremely Straight mom was being pushy, asking me about my OCs. For those unaware, the OCs in question are:

A nonwhite nonbinary aromantic bisexual with ASPD

A nonwhite asexual whose romantic orientation is a hashtag Mess, who has depression, anxiety, OCD, and is autistic

The above OCs are in a queerplatonic relationship

(This is important, I promise)

So after escaping to my laptop, I go on Quixol to try and decompress, and start off by expressing my general exhaustion and discomfort. A reasonable person who is part of the staff of a LGBT+ & ND safe server would, hopefully, take that as a disclaimer that I had been through Garbage, and had no energy.

So after having to literally physically escape an uncomfortable discussion with my mom, and after literally telling chat about the situation, I’m directly concern-trolled for calling my queerplatonic OCs, ‘queer’?

Once?

When there’s a perfectly serviceable blacklist on this very server?

(Minor note: I’m aware that Blake’s pronouns are it/its, however, I had typoed ‘pals’ into ‘pal’ & I apologize for that small misunderstanding)

So anyways, that sucked, and dealing with everything that happened that afternoon had destroyed my energy for a week. Clearly staff had made their stance clear, even if I didn’t agree with it.

I decided not to use ‘queer’ on that server, or at the very least not towards anyone who 1) wasn’t queer, and 2) might give me shit for even saying that word, even if I’m not mislabeling anyone. Such as, the staff.

So, I don’t use it.

Flash forward to late November of 2017.

I’m on my twitter, tweeting tweets, which are mostly meant for me, because it’s my gotdamn twitter account. I tweet a lot of junk, RT a lot of fandom garbage, and sometimes, when something triggers me, I try to unpack my abuse.

I’d like to make it clear right now that I never listed my twitter under my Bio (or at the very least, had never intended to. I don’t remember whether or not I put it there, and if I did, my mistake) and have only given my twitter url out once. The only connection my twitter had to Quixol was by following the Quixol twitter.

Over the course of a few weeks I tweeted out some ~*spicy*~ Opinions, which, you’re free to disagree with me about, especially since it’s fucking twitter, which has a character limit, so a lot of my word choice had to be downsized to fit in a fuckin 280 character text box.

On top of that I’m not even a Public LGBTQ+ Wank Persona, so I had no incentive to hash things out step-by-step to my... 10 followers. By all accounts, my tweets are, by their very nature, inconsequential to anyone except my followers.

(My account was not locked at the time, but I understandably later did so)

Anyways, in order:

This one was pretty clearly about Quixol, but I should probably state for the record that I had no idea ‘queer’ in MANY DIFFERENT ITERATIONS had been exhaustively banned from signs, so I had no idea it wasn’t physically possible to properly spell out ‘genderqueer’ without censoring it in some fashion.

Anyways, continuing with my ~*spicy opinions*~

I mentioned before how I was essentially abused by people I trusted for not being acceptably gay. I don’t know how ‘I’m not gay and I don’t need to be, I’m happy with being aro ace’ is a statement so vile that gay people everywhere take immense offense to it, to the point where staff finds it a bannable offense...

By the way, yes, I did get banned for these.

Because days after I was banned, staff approached Vin about my banning, of their own volition.

At the end of the day, Vin had planned to write out an essay, so that they could have a reasonable discussion with staff.

I wasn’t too Thrilled at the prospect of trying to have a discussion with people who intentionally villainized me, took my words out of context, and made the worst possible interpretations out of them, but I supported Vin’s idea.

However, she was in the middle of college finals, and preparing for chanukkah, so she couldn’t get right back around to it for another week.

Note that at this point Vin had not been contacted by staff due to her own behavior, past actions, without even a mention of her tumblr or its content.

THIS IS EXTREMELY CRUCIAL INFORMATION.

IF THEY HAD REASON TO BAN VIN FOR ANYTHING, WHY DID THEY CONTACT VIN ABOUT MY BAN FIRST?

But anyways, let’s cut to 8 days later, because I certainly couldn’t log into Quixol and subsequently do anything.

And in that time, neither could Vin.

I wasn’t surprised at this point. Staff had made it plain and clear to me that if they had a mild enough reason to ban you, they’ll find whatever evidence they need in order to finalize it.

FOUR POSTS, YALL. FOUR POSTS AND SHE GOES FROM ‘ONE OF THE MOST ACTIVE AND BELOVED COMMUNITY MEMBERS’ TO ‘A BONA FIDE THREAT TO PEOPLE ON QUIXOL, WORTH BANNING.’

The four posts in question will be linked later, for now, continuing:

So... it’s not actually about protecting people on the server, it’s about... finding people that agree with your particular flavor of “LGBT+” politics?

R...really?

Where is the actual harm that Vin has done on the server to warrant being banned?

Shit, what about me? What tangible, material harm did my tweets, squirreled away on my own separate twitter, that no one follows me on, do to anyone on the server?

Anyways it doesn’t end here, because in this chain of bullshit, someone else went down trying to ask staff “why for the love of god did you ban Vin?”

Screenshots (Warning, it’s 65 pages long)

All four posts that Vin was banned over are included as well.

But if you’re interested in my personal highlight reel:

ah yes, a non-ace trans woman trying to silence anyone who casts doubt on her decisions to silence queer ace people for having experienced abuse similar to hers, because that’s not some top-tier oppression olympics ‘my pain outweighs yours’ b.s.

remember that time staff literally approached vin of their own volition with screenshots of my tweets at the ready, trying to grill vin about my tweets and whether or not she agreed with them?

where’d that go?

did they suddenly get tired of it after being confronted with other, perfectly average Quixol users, suddenly also questioning their decisions against their will?

funny how vin got to have a discussion about her posts. wonder why they didn’t ever contact me except to ban me

so one of the posts was barely incriminating, but the staff decided to use it against her AS A PSYCHOLOGICAL TEST, and then decided to use it decisively against her after she didn’t give the reaction they wanted from her (again, they mention it as one of the 4 posts she was banned over)

THIS WOULD BE PERFECTLY REASONABLE IF THEY HADN’T BEEN LITERALLY SEARCHING THROUGH HER TUMBLR, DIGGING UP POSTS FROM UP TO TWO YEARS AGO

IT WOULD ALSO BE REASONABLE IF:

I HAD ACTUALLY PUT MY TWITTER URL IN MY BIO, WHICH I’M PRETTY SURE I DID NOT

I HADN’T BEEN BANNED NOT TWO WEEKS AGO FOR EXISTING ADJACENT TO QUIXOL, BARELY IF EVER MENTIONING IT ON TWITTER, NEVER LINKING IT FROM THE SERVER, WHO THE HELL WAS SEARCHING THROUGH MY TWITTER, AND WHY DIDN’T BEAN EVEN MENTION DEFENDING MY RIGHT TO HAVE A SEPARATE TWITTER THAT WAS NOT PUBLICLY LINKED TO QUIXOL!? WHAT!?!

glad to know the rest of the staff also goes full tilt on oppression olympics

still waiting on the part where vin actually said something transmisogynistic or otherwise materially harmful to someone on the server

oh no!! vivian just called a lesbian trans woman transmisogynistic!! clearly if this is the game staff wants to play that means they all needs to either agree to disagree, or realize that peoples’ experiences differ from theirs, and are not something to be weaponized in order to silence people that you disagree with!! what a world!!

tfw staff tokenize themselves before they even make the slightest movement towards ‘people have different experiences besides the ones i have/know about, but we are all here and we should work together and support each other’

are they even really a real LGBT+ server

very clear, very clear distinction here... somewhere? weren’t they just saying that they’re not the same things? so they overlap but are different? uh... and...???

i don’t have a word for ‘white trans women that try to weaponize the transmisogyny that overwhelmingly nonwhite twoc experience in order to silence anyone who questions her ~*authority*~ despite the fact that there is no universal ‘trans woman experience’ that anyone can hold her as an authority AS’...

this is literally the kind of weaponized-suffering authoritarianism people talk about when they deconstruct neoliberalism and ‘oppression olympics’ and the staff all seem to be very involved in it

gee whiz, im no longer wondering why i, a queer aro ace, was banned

bean weaponizing his aceness as the staff’s ‘authority’ on ace matters, instead of, yanno, understanding that vin has had her own experiences, that are different, which leads her to take different stances

especially since bean himself admits he hasn’t faced any problems due to his aceness

lucky him, i guess

“this is the first time we’ve had to really make a ban based on evidence that was off quixol”

fuck you in particular

my tweets weren’t for you or anyone else on Quixol

you and the rest of the staff decided to ban me anyways

and now that you snatched vin in your chain-ban and you have a lot of people who are QUESTIONING YOUR DECISIONS you try and act sympathetic?

if people are reacting like this, and the evidence wasn’t even on the server, why even ban someone?

if you intend to heavily police Quixol users you should maybe fucking say so

that way no one’s suprised

i have intense paranoia issues and the entire fact that YALL WERE STALKING MY TWITTER hasn’t helped in the least

literally here are tweets i made in the same timeframe as my ~*banned tweets*~

like you claim to be protecting users, despite the fact that no one on the server was harmed

and you claim to be inclusive, despite the fact that you silence queer people at every turn

and you claim to be safe for ND people, while causing them anxiety and paranoia

literally what do you even stand for at this point

"we are all trans? we are all gay?”

yeah? and?

you still closet the hell out of queer people?

especially queer people with identities you don’t like?

queer people who literally use the word to describe their OCs in plural since they are neither gay nor trans?

you literally wouldn’t let me use the word ‘queer’ to describe my OCs?

hhhhhhhhhhhhh

oh no!!! queer people exist online

seriously is this an LGBT+ server or some kind of fundie christian camp

also, get a load of all of the 0 times vin and i have called anyone queer without their consent, seeing as the first and only time I used it, i got scolded by staff for it

funny story. as soon as I read this screen i knew why I was actually, really banned

way back up at the top of this post, when i had confronted Blake about the fact that I had just called my OCs ‘queer’

and was told ‘be careful, don’t use that word on people who don’t want it applied to them’

i had already been mislabeled as ‘gay’ numerous times on the server itself, which was triggering for me

after bringing up that particular grievance with staff, using almost the exact same wording as Fritjof, i decided to blacklist ‘gay’ so that i wouldn’t guilt gay people into hiding it from others, while protecting myself

very interesting that the staff doesn��t have the same attitude towards people being able to protect themselves from ‘queer’

it’s almost like the censoring of queer is not for the sake of protecting users... but instead...

Just so we make this clear, ‘queer’ which staff defines as being ‘gay and trans’ (but not queer itself for some reason?) is equivalent to:

triggering thing that must be blacklisted (that’s why the blacklist exists)

nsfw chats in global

literally how do yall say ‘queer means gay and trans’ and equate its use with ‘nsfw’

again... is this an LGBT+ server... or a conservative christian summer camp...

it feels almost... indistinguishable...

yes, that is the admin of an ND & LGBT+ server using the same ‘real world’ rhetoric that anti sj bigots and conservatives make

interestingly enough, it’s also common among bigots in the LGBT community, such as truscum, aphobes, and queerphobes, towards anyone with a ‘special snowflake’ identity that they don’t particularly like or are interested in including

but an ace man can never be acephobic right? he’s an authority on ace issues after all, and so all aces must have his same experiences

pedophilia?? gee whiz i wonder what that post Vin reblogged about ‘people accusing others of pedophilia that weren’t actually pedophilia’ was about. surely it wasn’t about staff, right?

so, recap of bannable offenses here on Quixol Dot Corn:

Have a public twitter, where you tweet opinions that staff disagrees with

Be friends with the above person who was banned, and when you don’t say anything banworthy when they confront you, have a tumblr account with enough questionable posts for them to construct a banworthy offense

Once both of the above have been banned, ask staff about their decisions, and then try to reasonably discuss their ongoing queerphobia

So anyways, if you’re wondering where Zeetheus, Vin_Venture, and Fritjof42 went... that’s pretty much what happened!

Staff has zero intent on protecting their userbase, just policing the hell out of their opinions, to the point where off-Quixol content is considered a bannable offense, and if staff hasn’t made that clear to anyone, I hope this post does.

Queer people are not safe on Quixol

Unacceptably ace people are not safe on Quixol

The vast majority of people under the LGBT+ umbrella that don’t fit under ‘gay and trans’ are not safe on Quixol

People with anxiety, who have experienced stalking paranoia are not safe on Quixol

#quixol #quixolmc

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