#there are totally good reasons to add homophobia into a setting

[multifandomxreader]

Hi! Idk if you’re taking requests or not, but I really love your work, and I was wondering if you wanted to do another Daryl one? Based off of it inspired by the song Night Shift by Lucy Dacus that takes place before and after the apocalypse. You can pick time frames/eras I’m not super picky about that I’ve just been thinking about this angst/fluff idea for a while and I’m not the greatest writer in the world. Totally fine if not! Please feel free to ask me questions if you need clarity

Night Shift

Daryl Dixon x Male reader

(I love the song it's so good!!! Hope you enjoy this! Sorry that it took so long)

tw: homophobia, violence...

You worked a thrift store before the apocalypse, Daryl was a regular there and you had your eye on him. You would always strike up conversations and after getting to know him better you would set aside clothes you knew he would like. For example a sleeveless jacket, which you decided to add wings to because it fitted him. You knew he was struggling with money so you convinced him to work in the store. He agreed to it because his brother was in jail so he had nothing holding him back from changing his way of life.

You started spending more and more time together because you worked the same shifts. You noticed how nice he is to the kids visiting the store, seeing his softer side made you realize your crush had turned in to something more. So one day you gathered the courage to ask him out after your shift. He freaked out and ran. When he got home he kept replaying the moment in is head, remembering his brother’s slurs and his father’s hits. He spent the night overthinking but came to the conclusion that they weren’t in his life anymore but you were and he sure wasn’t giving up on you so quickly.

The next day the first thing he did when he saw you was apologizing, you understood and made sure he knew he could always talk to you if he was struggling with things. You took him out to dinner the same evening and everything evolved from there. You start dating and everything was going great. In the beginning it was kinda rough but Daryl opened up eventually and you made sure he felt loved. After a few months you moved in together and even got a dog named Dixy. You were together for a year before your happiness came to an end.

You had finished your mutual shift and walked out the store hand in hand, you kissed Daryl’s cheek. You were planning a movie night and were discussing which snacks you were going to buy before a crusty looking redneck came up to you. Daryl froze and pulled his hand out of yours, you didn’t have enough time to realize it was Merle and you didn’t have enough time to dodge his fist going towards your face. You fell to the ground and the only thing you remember where more punches, slurs and Daryl’s voice getting his brother away from you. You lay there in pain when your coworker found you and got you to a hospital. The bruises didn’t hurt as much as the realization you had when you got back to your flat. Daryl wasn’t coming back, he had left your life without any goodbyes, without any tears, without any notice.

You carried on, changed appartements, changed your shift to the night shift so you wouldn’t run into his brother looking for more trouble. It had been a week since the accident when the pandemic broke out. You were one of the lucky ones that got out of the city in time. Ever since you’ve been wandering around with your dog, she was the reason you were still alive that, and the thought of Daryl still being out there.

You keep going, Dixy walking besides you, if temperatures kept rising you would have to find extra water but for now you were set on just moving forward, following the road. You were just about to sit down to rest when a bunch of walkers came out of the woods. Dixy barks and you grab your machete, with this many walkers you would usually just run but they seemed to emerge from everywhere. You chop a few heads off while Dixy puts her teeth into a walker’s neck. The walkers keep coming and you start to panic, suddenly you hear a car’s engine approaching. Any other day you would’ve hid but you would rather face some strangers then get eaten by some dead creatures so you ran towards the car. It swerved, hit a few walkers and a man and woman got out. The man holding a knife and the woman holding a katana. Together you finish the hoard off.

You are covered in guts and blood just like your guardian angels. You thank them while checking if Dixy is alright and introduce yourself. The man seems hesitant to talk to you but the woman replies “I’m Michonne, this is Rick” Rick nods at you and shares a glance with Michonne. He looks back at you “How many walkers have you killed?”

And that’s how you find yourself in a car on the way to a place called Alexandria. You chat a bit with Michonne and immediately like her, she is someone who you would’ve been friends with before the world ended. You could tell Rick was a bit more careful, the closer you got to Alexandria the tenser he got. “Hey man, I understand that you don’t know me but I really am glad that you saved my life and I look forward to becoming friends.” You tried to ensure him that you were one of the good guys, you totally understood his attitude, you too had met the more unpleasant types out there. Rick hummed “It’s cool man, we’ll see.”

The car approaches the gate and you feel the nerves in your gut, you can finally see a brighter future. Living in a community again, having friends, feeling safe, it was the best thing you could ask for in this world. The gate opens and your eyes widen at the sight. The car parked and you get out. You get some strange looks but after handing in your weapons and Rick introducing you, people start coming up to you to introduce themselves. Dixy was getting petted by some kids and was enjoying herself when woman came up to you with cookies “I’m Carol, welcome to Alexandria!” You thank her for the cookies and eat one of them because you were actually quite hungry. “These are really good!” you acclaim and she shrugs it off. You were in heaven.

Suddenly Dixy starts barking, everyone tenses and you search for the source of her vigilance. The first thing you notice is a motorbike, the second thing you notice is the love of your life next to it working on it. He looks up to look at the noise and your heart starts beating rapidly. Before you know it your legs run toward him and you yell out his name. He realises what’s happening and drops the wrench to run your way. Your bodies collide, your face in the crook of his neck and your arms wrapped around his torso. Everything is too much and you let out a sob. You take his face in your hands to make sure he’s real. His eyes are watery and his smile is a mix between happiness, confusion and repent. “I’m sorry I left” his voice breaks a bit. “I don’t care Daryl, I’m just glad we found each other again.” You kiss him softly, look into his eyes and kiss him again. You were never gonna let this man leave again.

You let go of each other and notice the people around you being astounded by the whole scene. Dixy is now circling Daryl and he gives her a few belly rubs. “So, I assume you two know each other” Michonne comments with a smirk. “Yes” you answer while taking Daryl’s hand in yours, this time keeping it there. Maybe this wasn’t really the end of the world.

[cobra-creampuff]

so doylistly mickey gets visibly cleaner each season (in the first half of the show at least) because he develops from a villain to a romantic lead and "nobody" wants a dirty boyfriend. Just one more reason among many that even straight romance is better written by gays and/or perverts; when we're scared of our attraction to the earthly human body we make our art about it scary instead of just powerwashing all the gross matter off of it (unless of course the inhuman lack of gross matter is a theme being engaged with, i.e. robot/angel fucki- listen, the point is we're not wimps out here doing a "there is no flesh in ba sing se" routine 24/7. cough. anyway...)

but watsonian...ly. there are a lot of really fucking stupid bullshit signs and standards that homophobic straighties use as an excuse to be homophobic toward someone they want to bully. many claim that little homophobia is a totally different beast to big homophobia, and the signs the former 'dars are Real vs the irrational signs the latter 'dars, but in fact the absolutely farcical ones are all the exact same idea as the little ones just exaggerated once or twice*.

for example. little homophobia posits that a man who is "too" preoccupied with his appearance must be gay. if he wears makeup or shaves his legs, of course, but also if he wears too many non-neutral, bright, or "girl" colors (that aren't his sports team's colors), if his pants are too fitted, if he has "feminine" piercings, if he has an elaborate skin care routine.

at one exaggeration, midsize homophobia, we add on if he works out for vanity, if he diets for vanity, if he styles his hair, if uses face wash instead of regular soap, if he wears cologne outside of formal settings, if his pants... fit, if he wears too many different or bright colors at all.

one more exaggeration and it's if he openly or just obviously cares about his appearance. if he does more than rinse his face at all, if he uses shampoo that isn't the cheapest 5-in-1 available, if he has a haircut other than men's number whatever, if he takes good care of his clothing, if he has a beard but it's too neatly trimmed. if he washes his asshole.

and finally we get to he's gay if he puts any thought into his appearance at all. if he wears an outfit instead of whatever random articles of clothing are practical, if he wears deodorant, if he's bothered by being dirty, if he brushes his teeth every day. lapses on these things are allowed but only to impress a sexual partner - as long as she's not "a sure thing".

so. watsonianly. mickey is almost always visibly dirty in season one- well for more than one reason. hygienic dysfunction is one of the most common symptoms of depression and anxiety especially in kids and teens, it's one of the easiest to spot signs of neglect. he's also frequently visibly beaten, and getting beaten gets you dirty in addition to getting you hurt + it hurts to get soap and water in open cuts or to have temperature or pressure changes on bruises that bad. and this doesn't really have any textual support but it doesn't have any textual contradiction as far as i remember either, but a common form of abuse (and torture) is to restrict access to hygiene.

and. in addition to all that. terry is obviously BIG homophobic. so. none of his boys, but ESPECIALLY mickey since he actually IS gay, can be "too" clean. and they are all often visibly unclean, but mickey is noticeably dirtier the dirtiest white boy in america. because he is denying himself cleanliness consciously and on purpose as part of maintaining his closet.

and then! he gets progressively cleaner because a) okay fine i guess nobody wants a consistently unwashed stinky uti risk boyfriend, we just all like it when he comes home from work or recreation with sweat and materials on him. or when he just woke up and he's sweaty and unkempt from sleep. or when he works out and his skin is glistening with sweat. or at the end of the day when his cologne and/or deodorant are wearing off and we can smell his body underneath. or when he plays with an animal or a child or his boys and he gets some on him. or whe- okay, okay, all either mild or temporary, i KNOW okay, FINE. so mickey starts washing up more because he wants to be desirable to ian and to be comfortable and enjoyable to be physically close to for progressively longer periods of time.

and b) mickey's progress with ian is not just in building more intimacy, but also for mickey... just in being comfortable. in being free. the longer he's with ian, the more mickey can let himself forgo the more painful aspects of performing straightness. the less he wishes he was straight, because now being gay has benefits that he cares about, that he wants, and in fact there are reasons that - if it was a choice, for him - he might choose to still be gay.

then in late two and in season three, he's usually clean but visibly dirty again when he gets stressed about outing and/or in scenes where he WILL become stressed about outing. (if only i could believe Those writers would ever have bothered to do something like this intentionally lol. although... i didn't pay enough attention to have an opinion on the costumers; perhaps they took it upon themselves.)

and finally in season four, he's a full blown romantic hero coming out is now inevitable for him, so in reverse of visible dirt foreshadowing/indicating going back or further in now being consistently well groomed - with a somewhat individualized haircut and everything! - foreshadows that he is on his way out/helps telegraph how poorly he fits in his closet now. he stands out from all the other milkoviches except mandy and sveta. he starts forgetting the rules ("you use another man's soap?"). he wears outfits that make him more desirable to the audience fit his body and show he has preferences - the dressed-up look he wore to go get ian, the blue and green madras button down he wore to the uptown gay house party, the blue & white striped and pastel blue & red ringer tanks both making a comeback from their respective first kiss and sleepover scenes in season 3, etc.

and then in season 5 (or at least what i could stand to watch of it) he. well. he looks exactly like his brand of Gay. after coming out, he's doing that "find out who you are and then do it on purpose" thing. clean skin and hair, clothes fit and are clean and coordinated, color palette is more consistent, vibrant, and flattering - and includes "girl" colors now!, etc.

anyway. as always idk how to end the post. but that's today's take. "dirtiest white boy in america" is an aspect of mickey's straightsona.

*i'm aware the standards of homophobia differ across class, this post addresses only the relevant iteration(s)

[oozeandgoo-art]

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*Why do this in private? There are a number of reasons: the first, and most relevant, that it means other people aren't going to randomly jump in and change the subject, so we can have an actual conversation rather than something that comes over more like a random accusation I may not fully understand out of the blue. Secondly, I have a solid handful of followers that I expect would probably defend me, and you don't need people jumping down your throat for "attacking" a person they like, especially if you're right but even if I think you're wrong. I also don't want to deal with that. Finally, I don't like being stuck between trying to understand more and feeling like I have to "save face" because the latter is bad for actually learning and growing as a person. I - of course - still do my best to learn in public, but without the pressure of a significant amount of outside observers it's easier for me to form an initial response and have a normal conversation. You can always take it public later, if you're convinced I've done something wrong and won't make amends. At that point I'm sure we're just going to be enemies so asking you not to is gonna go nowhere lmao. I take bigotry and my own biases seriously, but it's possible that after we discuss and I do some of my own research, we may come to different conclusions as to the relative problems with a certain depiction, discussion, or behavior. This is a normal part of socializing. Please give me the grace of holding a conversation with me first before jumping to getting on my case publicly. (If you're scared of reprisal, first of all, don't be because I don't like to do that, but secondly, you can just make a throwaway account to message me with. It's easy.)

[jeyne-stark]

To the lovely anon who sent me a delightful message detailing how Theon and Robb couldn’t get married because it isn’t historically or canonically accurate for the North to be accepting of gay relationships:

Amazing. Every word you just said was wrong.

Let’s begin.

To the first claim, that it isn’t historically accurate for two men to marry, let me discuss the case of Bertrand du Guesclin and Olivier, Lord of Clisson, who, in October of 1370, swore several oaths to each other. Most of them were martial, fittingly for a pair of warriors: mutual protection in case of attack, a division of the profits of war, and so forth. These oaths were written out, sworn on a Gospel book in the presence of a priest, and sealed with a kiss. None of that is terribly unusual for an oath at the time; perhaps they were merely brothers in arms—and indeed, they do refer to each other as brothers.

Except that they held joint property, and swore to love the other’s wife and children, and they had provisions in these oaths for what should become of their joint property in case that they didn’t have heirs. (It was to be used for masses said for their souls and their parents’, incidentally.)

And they weren’t the only ones swearing such oaths. The practice of “brother-making” in the Western Church was fairly common (and distinct from what was going on in the Eastern Church, who continued performing such ceremonies until the 1980s, and who get very annoyed when it’s compared to same-sex marriage). Among the lower classes, there is less pomp and splendor, but the tax rolls regularly show two apparently unrelated men cohabitating.

To say nothing of the various unofficial relationships, particularly common among monks and nuns, which don’t usually get mention in the official records but do crop up in literature.

(And yes, the medieval era was a really terrible time to be queer, please do not take me saying “there were established ceremonies similar to marriage in the medieval era that bound two men or two women together in a life-long bond” as “there was no homophobia in the medieval era,” those two statements are not at all the same thing.)


And this is only western medieval Europe; get even a little bit further afield in time or place and you find records of two men marrying all over the place—or at least having official, recognized, accepted relationships, which is marriage by any other name. 


So, it’s not in fact unrealistic for a fictional country that’s only pseudo-medieval at best to have an established tradition that two men can marry if they want. 


All of that said, let’s be real here, if Westeros was even pretending at historical accuracy, all of that long flowing hair should be tied up and covered, long hair is a bitch to wash with modern technology and only worse with the technology level indicated in Westeros, and covering hair protects it from the need for frequent washing by keeping the dirt off.


To the second point, the idea that Westeros canonically has homophobia: does it? Do we see that? You’d imagine that Stannis would use it to discredit Renly’s claim, but it never seems to come up.

There is one solitary instance that indicates a slight stigma around it in the North, which is that it’s implied that the prostitute who tried to rob Hothor “Whoresbane” Umber was a man, and that the gender of the prostitute is why it’s only talked about in whispers, but that isn’t confirmed on any level—either that the prostitute was a man, or that the gender of the prostitute is the reason why the incident isn’t discussed openly. Regardless, Hothor still holds a position of power in the Greatjon’s household, indicating that whatever the reason for that incident having a stigma—which could be simply because it was a prostitute—it isn’t considered a significant mark against him.

The show did add a layer of homophobia into the culture: Joffery’s threat to make homosexuality punishable by death is show-only, and it’s not clear whether that gets carried out and established as law. Similarly, the Faith’s position on homosexuality is only a factor in the show, and the High Sparrow was rather making shit up as he went along during the trial, so that doesn’t really indicate that Renly and Loras’s relationship was forbidden because they were both men. (Although, since Renly was married to Loras’s sister, it would be forbidden for adultery and possibly for incest, depending on exactly how closely the Faith hews to real-world canon law.)

Even in the show verse, however, one of the first things we learn about the North is that they’re different than the South. It’s the Seven “with all the rules,” as Ned puts it, and the Old Gods don’t particularly care about what their followers do, aside from the big stuff like incest, kinslaying, breaking guest right, and suchlike. The North keeps the Old Way, and nothing we hear of what the Old Way is indicates that homophobia is actually part of it. They also officially break away from the South, meaning that any laws that apply in the South, such as Joffery’s hypothetical edict, do not apply to the North.

In conclusion, there’s no indication of established homophobia in Westeros at all, let alone in the North, only an implication of a slight stigma or scandal. The North doesn’t have to be homophobic unless you want it to be, and if you do, maybe take a moment to reflect on why you want that.

Historical accuracy is not, I’m afraid, a very good figleaf.

[sxdmoonchxld]

Operation: Pop The Cherry | JJK

Jungkook x Virgin!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: rough bathroom sex, college au, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, Jungkook has a virgin kink if you couldn’t tell by he title, lowkey sadistic JK, Gay BFF Jimin, mentions of alcohol and weed, brief mention of homophobia. bIG diCK Jungkook, more belly bulging, and I forgot what else

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: Against you better judgement and thank to your best friend Jimin. You somehow agreed to let a stranger on campus known as the Cherry Popper, too well..pop your cherry.

Alternatively: You're a virgin. Jungkook has a fetish/kink for fucking virgins.

A/N: I guess i’ll keep putting this note until i stop reposting my old stories. I use to be lizardsocial, and this fic was previously called Game. You may still be able to find it somewhere on tumblr. I edited this fic heavily and it’s honestly a new story, but there are still some elements from the fic it used to be still in there. Unedited so please let me know of any mistakes or typos. Like, comment, reblog, let me know what you think. Enjoy!

_________________________________________

Bass boosted pop music seeped through the dense walls of the energetic room. Strobing bright colored beams danced to the rhythm of the music in mesmerizing synchrony. The musty odor of marijuana, booze, and sex-saturated air shrouded the room in a turbid veil, covering the sea of drunken undulating bodies packed in the cramped living room.  Empty beer cans and other various booze bottles mixed with burnt-out blunts accompanied the young adults. You groaned with irritation and disgust. You didn't want to be here, but to your chagrin, you had a promise to keep.

It wasn't a secret that the college nightlife was unquestionably not your type of 'scene.' You quite frequently elected to willingly engage most of your time in your freshman dorm, wrapped in your weighted burrito blanket. A nightstand stockpiled with all your favorite snacks, lights dimmed low, and lavender incense burning, filling your room with the aroma of relaxation. The perfect setting to binge-watch your favorite show for the umpteenth time, the shifting distorted brightness of your computer screen, projecting the scenes against your face. 

It's kind of funny how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. The one time you decide to take the chance and branch away from the alternate antisocial hermit, your personality had adopted as its own had come back to bite you in the ass. You admit, lately, you've been neglecting your best friend. Your reasonings generally varying from the classic 'oh I was sleep' to deliberately silencing your phone, not wanting to hear the constant shrill ringing of the default ringtone. You loved Jimin, you truly did, but you could only take so much of his eccentric mashup of bubblegum and rainbow sparkles that was his personality. Eventually, guilt began eating away at you piece by piece until you ultimately caved in and invited your friend over for an impromptu movie night in your dorm room. 

Not even 30 minutes into the movie, one that you had been dying to see, might you add, Jimin commenced his drunk and high chattering. He had already started 'pre-gaming' before he came over; Six shots of straight Vodka and 2 blunts. Every day you prayed for this man's liver and brain function; with how much he drank and smoke, you would think he needed it to function. 

"Oh! Oh! Bitttch. Did I tell you about that football player, I fucckked last week!" Jimin started slurring on certain words. You noticed his eyes were glossy and glazed over. 

"No, you didn't, Chim." You sighed, completely giving up trying to watch the movie. You would have to watch it on your alone time. 

"Reeaally?" Jimin slurred, a goofy grin uplifting his lips.

"Yes, really. You haven't told me." Amusement lightly coated your voice. 

"Welll, his name is T-tae, Tae-tae something. Hold on, it's coming to me." Jimin said, rubbing the sides of his temples, trying to remember the guys' name. 

"Taehyung! That's it!" Jimin shrieked, snapping his fingers in victory.

You looked at him startled. You remember Taehyung from high school. You didn't recall him being at this college, though. Well, it wasn't like you paid attention to many things outside your bubble anyway.

"Wasn't he homophobic as fuck in high school?" You asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, he was. Buttt I guess he was trying to cover up, that he was actually on the DL." Jimin smiled, whispering the last part.

"DL? What's that mean?" You inquired

Jimin looked at you with a look of betrayal. "It means he's on the down-low, meaning he didn't want anyone to know he's gay. Girrl, I'm too crossfaded to be explaining this to you."

You chuckled, " My bad, Chim. So was it good?"

"Fuck, no! Dick was straight trash. The only thing that saved him a little was that his dick was huge." Jimin said, wiping away a pretend tear from the corner of his eye. 

You laughed boisterously at that. If Jimin wasn't so adamant about becoming a professional dancer. He could seriously take up a career in comedy.

"Speaking of dick. When are you gonna get some?" Jimin asked, turning his body to face you completely. As you looked at him, you noticed his eyes seemed a bit clearer, and his face wasn't as red as earlier. Not only did Jimin drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney. He was somehow able to sober just as fast.

"Oh my god, Jimin. Please don't sta-"

"Mmm, no missy," Jimin said, wagging his finger in your face.

"Don't you hear it?" He said, cupping his hand around his ear as if he was straining to hear something.

"Hear what?" You replied, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest.

"The cobwebs and tumbleweed living in your cunt."

"Jimin!" You shrieked, slapping the arm closest to you.

"Don't Jimin me! You know it's true, I swear you're gonna be a 40-year-old virgin, and by the time you finally make the decision to have sex, it'll be too late!" Jimin yelled, stumbling to stand up from the couch.

"First off, ouch. I won't be a 40-year-old virgin. That's very insulting. Second, I do plan to lose it soon. I just haven't found the time or the right guy." You said, looking down at your feet shyly. You did want to lose your virginity, but with being an introvert with a mix of social anxiety and just a dash of seasonal depression for added flavor. It was hard even to get out of bed sometimes. Much less going out and trying to find someone to do the do with.

"Oh! Well, if that's all, then I got you covered, babe. Time? Next week Friday at Jihyo's dorm. As for the right guy, I know a dude. He has like a kink for that kind of thing." Jimin answered nonchalantly, now scrolling through his phone, probably on his social media page.

You looked at Jimin, head tilted to the side, confused. "What kind of thing?"

"Oh, you know fucking virgins and shit. Popping their cherries." He said, popping his "P's."

You sputtered, exasperated. What the fuck. You didn't kink shame, that was for losers, but he can't seriously expect you to do something like that.

"What the actual fuck. Jimin, are you serious?"  

"Deadly." He said, looking you square in your eyes. His tone of voice haven dropped an octave lower.

"Jimin no. I-i can't."

"Jimin, yes! Err, I mean _____ yes, you can! Come on, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Plus, it's not like he's a total stranger. I've known him since he was 8 years old. I use to babysit the little shit head." Jimin said, waving his hand in the air, trying to swat away a rogue fly.

"Wow, Chim. You know, now that you put it like it makes me feel a lot better about the situation." You said tone dripped in sarcasm

"Really?" Jimin squealed, a delighted twinkling in his eye.

"Of course not! Don't be stupid!" Offended, you gawked at Jimin. You swear sometimes he could be so dimwitted.

"Come on, please? At least meet him, and if the vibe is not right, then you can leave no harm done." Jimin pleaded, his attention back on you. Was it crazy that you were actually thinking about agreeing to this? Jimin did have a point. It was sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity. He did know the guy, and if you didn't like the vibe, then you could just bounce, right? Right?

Sighing in defeat, your hands dragged down your face and turned towards a pouting Jimin. Grabbing at his deflated shoulders, you shook her lightly, and with urgency in your voice, you spoke, "Alright goddammit! I'll do it, but you have to stay by my side the whole time, no running off, you understand!" 

You watched Jimin's face quirk into a sly smirk. You swore you could see the cogs in his brain churning. Damn, you were going to regret this. You had the tendency to make deals when pressured. Most of the time, those agreements ended up backfiring on you, confining you in the proverbial rock and a hard place. 

"Yay! Operation: Pop _____ Cherry has commenced. Okay, so will meet at the auditorium on the art campus. From there we will walk to Jihyo's dorm, it's only five minutes. Promise me you'll actually show up and won't flake on me." A complacent expression rested arrogantly on Jimin's features, a single pinky finger extended towards you. 

"Don't give this situation a not-so-secret code name. And I can't believe I'm saying this but, I promise." You agreed, interlocking pinky fingers, yours thumbs coming up to press against one another.

"So I'll meet you at the location Friday, don't be late, and wear something sexy. No granny clothes." he chirped, making his way to your front door.

"Wait! You're leaving already?" you frowned, looking at the clock on your wall. He's only been here for an hour, and 30 mins of it were spent persuading you to hurry up and lose your virginity. You didn't even get to finish the movie together.

"Sorry babe, but I have a dick appointment." he shrugged, putting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

"Can you at least tell me the name of the guy who's supposed to fuck me?" you huffed, honestly you were done for tonight. As soon as Jimin left, you were heading straight for bed.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget." Jimin slaps the center of his forehead. "He's a real cutie. I would fuck him if he wasn't as straight as an arrow." Jimin looks off to a far wall, eyeing it with jealousy.

"Just tell me his name, please." You pleaded. Oh yeah, that's definitely a headache forming. You could feel it already. Jimin snaps out of his daydreaming and spins his body towards you.

"Jungkook."

Time skip to a week later, and precisely as you suspected, what a mistake that whole conversation was. Now here you were at this fucking dorm party with people you didn't know or care to get to know. Jimin had left you as soon as he saw his next piece of ass. Restlessly you hauled down the short black dress that insisted on riding up your ass, the soles of your feet protesting in the slim heeled shoes. Floundering your way into the packed building, you couldn't help but query where Jungkook was. Jimin was supposed to get around to send you a picture of the mystery man, but that never happened. Funny how now was the best time you decided to question why exactly Jimin was your best friend.

"Well damn, the pictures Jimin sent me doesn't do you justice at all. You're fucking hot." You recoiled from the closeness of the voice, the heated breath sending chills skittering down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck ramrod straight. Heat spurred to your face when you whisked around to meet an absolutely gorgeous guy. Like unfairly gorgeous guy. You stared wide-eyed, taking in his chiseled facial features, paired with wide doe eyes and bunny smile decorating his face. Somehow, someway he's mastered looked soft and sexy at the same damn time. And fuck was that a dangerous combination for your pussy. Your heart too, but more so your cunt.

"U-uh, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You watch as he recoils back from your with a look of apprehension on his face.

"A-are you not ____?" he stutters cutely. You think you can see the beginnings of a blush burning his cheeks. You nod your head once to confirm his question. He stared at you a minute longer before you see the recognition spark in his chocolate orbs.

"Jimin didn't send you my picture did he?" Shaking his head with his eyes close, you get the courage the scan his face a bit more. Yeah. He's definitely blushing.

"Sorry. I guess seeing you here, I thought Jimin would have...prepared you better." Shaking your head from side to side because your words refused to come out. You watched as he backed up a bit further from your personal space and thrust his right hand out to you. 

"The name's Jungkook, or J.K. Whatever suits your taste."

With clammy hands, you taking his outstretched hand marveled at how it almost covers your hand. Now that he's moved back from you, you now had to chance to see how tall he really was. Maybe about 6 to 7 inches taller. You look down at his feet and eye his combat boot, perhaps a little shorter but still taller. And big, yeah, definitely bigger. His oversized black jacket did little to hide the broadness of his shoulders and chest. You let your eyes travel down the length of his body. You bet he's hiding some killer abs under his shirt. And holy fuck, his thighs.

"You like what you see, baby girl?" Teasing, he's teasing but God, if his voice didn't make you pussy throbbing pathetically. Whimpering slightly, you let out a meek "Yes." God, you hope he didn't hear that.

Much to your dismay, he did, hear you. How he heard you with the music as loud as it was, was a mystery to you. But you watched his pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare slightly. Jungkook tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes rake up and down your scantily clad body. His heated stare scrutinized across your body, intrigue exerting over him, as he analyzed the way the snug-fitting dress molded to the curves of your shape. He could tell you didn't do this often. His dick twitched in his jeans with enthusiasm. 

It's the increase in pressure of your hand that makes you realize you're still holding his hand. You go to retract your hand from his. However, yelp shrilly as he tugs you closer to his body. Both hands now resting on his chest, and his wrapped around your waist. Fuck, you could feel the warmth and coarseness of his hands through your thin dress. A spontaneous tremor racked your body. The heat-transmitting from his frame mixed with the floral yet musky undertone of his cologne made you somewhat featherbrained.

"Fuck, you're so soft." You squeak as he squeezes your waistline, pulling you even closer against his body. You were now putty in his hands.

"Jimin told you my....preferences, right?" his voice caressed your ear. Just a slight movement or subtle twitch, and his lips would be on your skin.

"Y-yeah, he did." It should be an embarrassment how frail and breathless you sounded, but that didn't matter.

Jungkook hid his smile behind your ear. This was just too easy. Just how he liked it. He almost felt bad- almost. He was gonna ruin you utterly and completely, mold the shape of cock in the walls of your pussy. His name spilling from your lips, voice going hoarse by how loud he would make you scream. Fuck he couldn't wait. He's had virgin's before, a lot of them. That's his whole M.O. The cherry popper, virgin fucker, whatever. Jungkook's heard all the names in the book. But there's just something about you, you just had an air of genuine innocence, and he couldn't wait to defile it. 

Jungkook pulls his head back, enough to where his eyes can trail over the bared skin of your neck, and the sprinkling of perspiration sparkling off the bright strobing lights, no doubt from nervousness. His tongue traced over his thin upper lip, watching the droplets of sweat spiral down the curve of your neck. He wanted to taste you. 

"Alright, then." He jerks his body away from you. You're no longer touching his chest, but his hands are still on your waist. 

"Let's enjoy the party before the fun really begins. Every done body shots before?" Jungkook spoke casually, undeterred by the way you recoiled back or the look of stupor on your face.

"W-what? B-body shots, why?" you squeaked, failing to keep from stuttering over your words. Is this how it's supposed to go? Is this normal? You're bewildered, and just a bit perturbed. Were you just imagining that sexual tension that was going on just moments ago? For sure, you thought Jungkook was gonna throw you over his shoulders and haul you off to the nearest unoccupied bedroom or bathroom. At that instant, you didn't care. 

Jungkook regarded the war of emotions wage across your features, merriment and strobing lights twinkling in his eyes. Fuck, you were cute, so desperate staring up at him with a pout on your face a puppy dog eyes. He could honestly just take you back to the closest room and fuck the shit out of you. But he wanted to play with his prey, a bit more. The wait made it that much more satisfying.

"Don't pout too much, baby girl or I may not be able to contain myself. Follow me. The table is this way."

Jungkook didn't indulge in answering any of your questions you rambled off at him, delighted to see you trailing on his heels like a lost pup. Jungkook directed you further into the dorm, and like a dog on a leash, you followed. In the center of a sparse room sat a scraped up black table. You observed the area. It was devoid of many people. The several that were present made no recognition of your proximity in their intoxicated state.

"So who's first?" Jungkook asked, setting the bottle of tequila, rim salt, and limes down on the table.

"U-uh, I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter." You shrugged hesitantly. You were way out of your element here.

"Perfect then, you first." Jungkook should be ashamed by how excited he was at getting to sample your skin. It looked smooth, felt soft when he had you in his arms, and would no doubt probably taste as sweet as it seemed. You nodded in docility, wandering over to crawl on top of the table, being attentive to your dress. You lay flattened against the table, shiverings racking your body as he began pouring a trail of salt between your cleavage. 

He poured himself a shot in the depression of your throat and tore the lime in half with his bare hands. Smirking at how you flinched when he thumped the liquor bottle down beside your head. Jungkook pushed the other half of the unevenly split lime towards your lips, a silent gesture to take the lime in your mouth. Jungkook watched as your lips curled gently around the hull of the green citrus. A flare of lust stirred in his loins at the action. He couldn't wait to see your lips stretched around the head of his cock. He observed your eyes clamped closed as he began dropping his head forward to your chest. It was adorable and innocent. He noted the way your lips slackened around the citrus in your mouth, your chest heaving in speed, the closer his tongue trailed to your neck.

You tasted splendid, just as sweet as he thought. The salt on your skin did nothing to deter your natural flavor. If anything, it enhanced your sweetness, rendering your skin damn near mouth-watering. Jungkook's ears perked at the breathless moans slipping past the fruit perched against your lips, drawn out by the repeated pass of the wet, pink appendage lapping at the salt line between the valley of your breast. Committing your muffled moans to memory, he lapped persistently at the collection of salt and tequila in the hollow at the base of your neck.

You face flammed in embarrassment as panting moans effortlessly tumbled from your mouth. Who knew your chest and neck was such an erogenous spot. Despite your shame, you couldn't stop wriggling, shifting your thighs together for some form of friction to sate the rising arousal dampening your panties. You yelped at the sensation of blunt teeth nibbling at your skin before soft lips came to suck at the shallow indentations. Fluffy hair with an undercut came into your line of vision as Jungkook lifted his head up to your lips. Your heart stammered tortuously against your ribs, flirtatious eyes stared lidded with searing lust, his head advanced closer to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering against the bitter hull of the lime.

Jungkook closed the distance, slanting his mouth over the lime, blocking his contact with yours. He sucked against the sour fruit, acidity puckering his lips, residual tartness flowing to your cracked lips. Jungkook withdrew from your mouth, taking the drained lime hull with it. Your saccharine moans were heaven to his ears. It had awoken something inside him, fueled his fire in knowing that possibly no one had ever heard such a sweet sound. He wanted more, craved more. 

"Have you ever been kissed before, sweetheart?" Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue, poking out to moistening his lips. 

"Yeah, once in like 3rd grade." Who hasn't snuck behind a tree or hid underneath the dark coverings of playground equipment to lock lips with a childhood crush?

He grinned salaciously, body moving to rest between your spread legs. Oh, now he was really excited. Your lips were practically untouched. Just another part of your body to claim first. You jumped when palms pressed flat against the revealed skin of your thigh. Gently, Jungkook rubbed lazy circles on your skin, never lowering or furthering than the hem of your dress. He felt you wiggle beneath his hands, observed your eyes, glimpsing―darting about, should you concentrate on his face, or his hand, uncertainty was etched on your face.

"Amazing." He groaned, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, before grinning again. His face inched closer to yours, his lips but a breath apart, warmth flickered against your lips as he talked, level and smooth. " Well, how about I become your second?

And then his lips were on you, the soft muscle mangled itself to your lips, tentative and sluggish to give you a chance to register his mouth slanted upon yours. Jungkook chuckled against your lips at your unresponsiveness. He guesses you were a little shell shocked. It only takes a few more stagnant seconds before you're shyly reciprocating his kiss. Delicate, shaky movements highlighted your inexperience. Increasingly, Jungkook increased the pressure behind lips, his hands spreading to enclose around your waist, dragging you closer against him. One of Jungkook's hands removed from your waist to bury itself in your hair, gently his fingernails scratched against your scalp, an airy moan was his reward. 

Hands completely abandoning your midsection, one gripped the meat of your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the table, flush against the tent of his denim jean encased manhood, the other embedded in your strands pulled sharply on your roots, a loud gasp tearing from you. Jungkook took that opportunity to advance his tongue into your gaped mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around yours, briefly wrestling for dominance before easily pinning your tongue in submission. His hips ground against yours, the heat of your covered core teased him through his jeans. 

He thoroughly explored your mouth, swallowing the now copious cries leaving your mouth. Reluctantly, Jungkook tore himself from your kiss-swollen lips. The ravished looked suited you perfectly. You looked beautiful, thighs brazenly spread, eyes glazed over in lust, your sticky chest heaving from the length of the shared kiss. Even in the dim lights, he could make out the taunt pebbling of your nipples. 

Your mouth gaped wide, flapping about like a fish out of water, trying despairingly to draw air into your lungs. Your first kiss definitely didn't compare to this much. Your wide eyes flicked between Jungkook and the floor, your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, feeling shy as he just stares at you. Releasing your teeth from your lips, you timidly touched your mouth, admiring how plump they've gotten from the intense liplock.

Wordlessly Jungkook hitched you over his shoulder, winded with a grunt as his defined shoulder blades dug into your stomach and what sounded like a growled vibrate up into you. You squirmed lightly in his hold, scared he was going to drop you, and secondly, your panty-clad ass on display for the party-goers, not that anyone was looking. 

You watched the continuous panels of hardwood floor move beneath you as Jungkook carried you to an unknown destination. You couldn't believe you were really doing this. Were you actually going to have sex with a complete stranger? Someone who was known for explicitly fucking virgins. Realistically, you should be ashamed, yet, you conceded full control to him without a second thought. What did that say about you? About your character? Would you now be labeled as 'easy' or a 'hoe' after all this was done? What was going to happen between you and Jungkook? 

The flick of a switch stirred from your thoughts. You shield your eyes with your hand at the bright lights pouring into the room, or rather a bathroom. Jungkook loved the confusion marring your features. He wouldn't fuck you in his bedroom just yet. That was a privilege you would have to earn, no matter how intrigued he had become with you. There's always humiliation to be had in the corruption of innocence, and fucking you in the bathroom was a good start. He planned on making you watch him as he destroyed your body, popping your cherry, stretching your tight virginal hole to accommodate his length, and claimed it as his own. Jungkook shuddered at the thought, his possessive nature taking a turn for the worst. 

Impatiently Jungkook sat you on top of the bathroom sink counter, his lips smashed against yours, the previous tenderness was gone, vanished into a puff of smoke. Teeth banged, and tongues flailed recklessly against each other in the heat of passion, with you struggling to keep up with the demands of his dominating kiss. Thick fingers trailed beneath the hem of your dress, tickling the expanse of your thighs. Jungkook wasted no time in shifting your slick soaked panties to the side, a warm digit gliding effortlessly through your damn folds.

"Fuck, you're already so wet. You're enjoying this a little too much, baby girl." Jungkook growled, panting against your lips. His finger breached your sex, you tensed deftly around the foreigner intrusion, stretching your weeping walls. 

"Ah, Jungkook." You cried listlessly, rocking your hips against his stilled finger. He felt so good inside you, and it was just his finger. Maybe this experience wouldn't be as bad as you heard. Now you couldn't wait to see what his cock felt like embedded deep within your pussy. Jungkook pumped slowly, eventually introducing a second finger to help loosen you up more. You were gonna be a tight fit, very tight, but that just made it even better. You hissed at the slight burn as he began scissoring his fingers apart with each withdrawal. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you buried your head against his broad chest, your mellifluous moans suppressed by the fabric of his shirt. 

"G-go faster, please." You begged, your body adjusting and quickly becoming frustrated by the snail's pace his fingers were pumping. You bucked your hips against his hands, hoping he would ease the growing discomfort boiling in your stomach. 

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, babe?" You nodded eagerly at his question, whining as you bucked against his hand again.

"Oh, really? Who gave it to you." Slow, he was going too slow you wanted, no you needed more friction, more stimulation from him.

"M-me. I-i did." Jungkook loved how you stuttered, it stroked his ego and filled him with arrogance to know it was him, and only that was capable of making you stumble over your words.

"Mmm, and how did you do it? Did you rub this little clit of yours raw?" You cried louder when his thumb flicked at your clit, the stimulation further drawing the appendage from its hood.

"Or did you fuck this tight hole, with these tiny fingers of yours?" At those words, a loud, choked moan, even muffled by your face in his chest, echoed throughout the white bathroom. Jungkook had gone deeper inside, almost to the third knuckle. Another moan left your lips as he twisted his fingers inside you, his palm now facing upwards.

"Though you and I bought know they couldn't possibly reach deep enough to touch the spot you really want." It's euphoric, no better yet orgasmic, the sheer shock of electric pleasure that zaps through your body when he finds the spongy bundle of nerves. Your body jerked heavily, legs go to snap close, only to be stopped by his broad body between your thighs.

He chuckles softly, stroking your thigh with his other hand. Jungkook shifts his head down, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He exhales quietly, warm air tinged with tequila and lime caresses the light hairs on you around your ear. " I found it, huh?"

You whimper, rubbing your head up and down against his chest.

"You want me to speed up the pace, sweetheart?" Jungkook's voice is delicate now, so gentle. But you're confused, overwhelmed, and scared. It's never felt like this when you did it yourself. Your not sure if you could handle the feeling, so you don't provide an answer to Jungkook's question.

"Don't ignore me ____, that's not nice manners. I'll ask again." You clench around his fingers as Jungkook inches just a bit deeper. 

"Do you. Want me. To go faster?" With each pause, he arches his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pressing deeply against your bundle of nerves, the sensation of having to pee accompanied with each thrust.

 "Y-yes, faster, more. Pl-lease." Fuck, you sounded so pretty begging for him if he wasn't addicted before. You had him sprung now. Jungkook buried his face in the crook of your neck, the sharp smell of tequila and salt still lingering on your skin. He sucked at the junction where your shoulder and neck met. You bucked harder against his fingers, your juices now dripping to coat his palm is sticky cream.

"If you wanted more. Why didn't you just ask?" Jungkook said deviously. Confused, you felt withdraw his sticky digits, walls gripping to stop their departure. Without warning, Jungkook flipped you over onto the counter, your knees buckled at the sudden change in position. Your faced burning at your displayed state, droplets of your essence dribbled from your pussy, slicking up your inner thighs. You yelped as Jungkook grasped at the length of your hair, pulling back pointedly, your neck craned back to observe him addressing you in the mirror.

"You've been wondrous for me ____. Such a sweet girl." He expressed, his empty hand disappearing behind your perked ass to fiddle with the groin of his pants. 

"Truly, you have. Your response and reactions to my touch have really gotten me riled up. It's been a while since I've tittered on the edge of losing control." You wheezed, starting to panic as you felt the thick head of his cock slap teasingly against your slicked throbbing hole. Oh, God, he's huge. Jungkook's cock might just tear you apart. You shifted your hips forward, pressing against the cold marble of the bathroom counters door.

"I-i don't think, I can t-take it Jungkook, you're too b-big. It's my first-time, r-remember?” Your stuttering worse now, but you're scared.

Jungkook pulls your hips back with the hand the was grasping his length, the side of your hip now coated in his pre-cum. His hand lays flat in the crease of your back, forcing you into a perfect arch. 

"You can take it, all of it. And don't worry, of course, I remembered your fragility. I'll go slow, I promise." You plead silently with your eye contact through the mirror. 

"You ready?" You nod once an advert your eyes down to the sink.

Your mouth shakily falls agape as he slowly began pushing the head of his cock into you. It burns, but not as bad as you had anticipated. You take the chance to look back up into the mirror, adamant about giving Jungkook a thankful smile for his gentleness. That vision that greets looks like it jumped right off the page of your favorite erotic story. 

Jungkook's got his head thrown back, the edge of his t-shirt clenched tightly between his teeth, your eyes trail the drip of sweat that follows the curve of his jawline. You have a clear view of his abs all the way down to the v-cut of his hip, to the happy trail that leads to a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair. You clench tightly around him, efficiently aroused by the view. You feel his cock throbbed heavily inside you, even getting bigger if possible.

"You like that, sweet girl? You like seeing me struggling to contain myself because you're so tightly around me. This little pussy trying to milk me for all I can give you." You love it. You feel powerful in a way. Do you really feel that good around him?

"Yes." Jungkook draws out the 'S.' 

"You feel amazing, so warm and wet. I wished you could see how coated in white you've got me, and I'm not even all the way in yet."

You scream soundless as he bucks into you, shoving in half of his length. It doesn't hurt anymore. You just feel stuffed full. Lifting a trembling hand, you take the chance a feel the lower part. You noticed swelling that wasn't there before, intrigued; you push down against it, moaning in shock you realize it's Jungkook's cock. 

"Yeah, baby girl, that's all me, well, most of me. You ready to take the rest?"

"Yes! Please!" That's the clearest you've been all night. You don't get an answer as Jungkook immediately picks up his pacing, thrusting into you faster. He wastes no time pumping deeply into your tight pussy, his tip smashing against the entrance to your cervix as you pant and grit your teeth in slight discomfort, overshadowed by pleasure. The burning sensation is back as he fucks in deeper with each brutal and swift stroke. But you don't care cause it still feels amazing. You can hear yourself, sloppy and soaking wet, echoing throughout the bathroom. You're drooling down his pistoning cock. You can feel it dripping down your inner thighs. Your head jerks violently against your shoulders, to weak support your head from his menacing thrust. 

Tightened vocal cords released strained shrieks of praise; from your mouth, drool dripping from your lips, into the sticky cleavage of your breast, and sweat coated your skin. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, never had you felt anything so deep inside you. If you ever had sex with anyone else, they would never compare to Jungkook.  You were fucked both figuratively and literally.

Jungkook pulled you further from off the sink, the new position allowing him even deeper. You clawed at the marble tops underneath your fingers, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. That sensation of having to pee is back again.

"J-K, I-m. I have to-," You don't get to finish as the band in your stomach snapped. Silently you announced your release; if it wasn't for the new wave of cum coating his cock, or the fluttering tightness of your walls, Jungkook might have missed your orgasm. He wasn't far behind you. The constant clenching of your ridged walls around his cock, had him reaching his limit sooner than he would like. Jungkook had half a mind to pull out but decided to gamble his odds. You're the first person he's fucked raw in a while, and with three deep thrusts later, he was shooting his hot seed right against your cervix. 

Breathing heavily, Jungkook lets you fall against the sink, observing as you crumpled against the sink countertop. Pride swelled his chest as he watched his seed bubble out of your well-used hole. He's never contemplated going farther with the virgins he fucked. He wouldn't make any hasty decisions now though there were still a lot of things he wanted to do with you. He would sleep on it and revisit the idea in the morning.

"So would you say, Operation: Pop Your Cherry was a success?"

You giggled, winded, still having difficulty catching your breath. You straighten up against the bathroom counter, the majority of your weight still resting on the object as you had yet to regain the feeling in your legs.

"Jimin and his stupid code names. I swear when I get a hold ass, he's dead." You warned already preparing your revenge on your best friend. You stare at Jungkook in the eyes through the mirror, smile a bit goofy, you say.

"Operation: Pop My Cherry. Mission complete."

[ordinaryschmuck]

Walt Disney Animated Pictures Studios from Worst to Best-Part One: The Top Ten WORST Disney Movies.

Salutations, people on the internet who certainly won’t read this! I’m an Ordinary Schmuck! I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons!

You know, I don’t blame people for hating Disney. The company has a stranglehold on entertainment, meaning that anything that is made by a studio not owned by Disney has the risk of flopping, with independent films being the most in danger. It’s totally reasonable to take issues with Walt Disney the company…But hating on every movie made by Walt Disney Animated Picture Studios? The dozens of films made by talented artists and writers who have nothing to do with the shady business practices made by the people up top? Yeah, I feel like hating those just to spite Disney is going a bit…far. A tad bit warranted, given how it’s hard to separate the films from the logo constantly stamped on top of them, but, I don’t know, I think it’s fine to still talk about the movies despite the evil corporation making them. Because, truth be told, Disney is responsible for some of the best animated movies and is the reason why animation is a respected medium…or, at the very least, a medium that deserves more respect. 

Bottomline: If you hate the corporation, that’s more than fine. But don’t spitefully show disdain towards movies that are guilty by association. Look at me: I constantly have problems with how Disney runs things with their mistreatment of artistic values, blatant acts of homophobia/racism, and overworking workers to meet unreasonable deadlines…but I still love their movies. To the point where I ranked all of them from worst to best–Finally got to the point of this post!

For the next six days, I’ll be posting my continuous rankings of all sixty of Walt Disney Animated Pictures Studios films. Originally, I thought about putting it all into one singular post, but the entire ranking is on a Google doc that’s about twenty-six pages long. Yeah, needless to say, it would be ludicrous not to break things up. So, instead, the whole ranking will be split up into six posts, talking about ten movies in each one. Also, these are movies that are strictly made by Walt Disney Animated Pictures Studios. So, no Pixar movies (yet), no A Goofy Movie, and no Who Framed Roger Rabbit. They were produced by Disney, but made by different studios, so we’re not counting them.

With that said, let’s get this ranking started by talking about the WORST movies under the studio’s name. Movies that illustrate the worst parts of Disney and are ultimately films that I have zero interest in watching again. Once was hardly enough for me. And you’ll see why as we kick things off with a movie that fills me with so much hatred:

#60. Pocahontas-F**K THIS MOVIE AND ALL IT TRIES TO BE!

“Ooh, I have an idea! Let’s take this horny pervert who wrote his own slash fiction of HIMSELF, turn him into a noble, handsome hero, and make a love story about the time he took a teenager hostage into marrying him! AND disregard the fact that he forced her from everything she knew, completely spitting in the face of the tragedy that was this poor woman! I’M SURE THAT WON’T BE IN POOR TASTE!”

Seriously, why did we let this movie exist? I get that history can be boring and you gotta add some spice to make it more entertaining, but this is…grossly disrespectful to what happened to the real Pocahontas. Maybe if they altered it to be about a different Native American woman and some other white boy, I'd be willing to shrug it off as another average film. Yet, as is, it leaves such a queasy feeling in my stomach that this movie sets itself up as a retelling of what happened with Pocahontas and John Smith. Say what you want about Hamilton (which better not be anything negative), but even though it romanticizes a scumbag who cheated on his wife several times, it still acknowledged that he was a scumbag that cheated on his wife several times! And true, the real story might not make for a good kids’ movie…BUT THEN WHY MAKE IT A KIDS’ MOVIE IN THE FIRST PLACE?!

“But the animation’s so pretty!”

It makes John Smith, a perverted pedophile, look pretty!

“But at least Pocahontas is a smart woman who stayed behind!”

That’s somehow WORSE than letting her go with him! It’s practically saying that the real story never happened which, as I’ve said, spits in the face of that poor girl’s tragedy!

“But…but at least ‘Savages’ and ‘Colors of the Wind’ are good songs?”

Two good songs does not make this movie any less disrespectful!

You can look past the inaccuracies all you want, but for me, nothing can change how bad of a taste this movie leaves in my mouth.

#59. Salude Amigos-On paper, the idea of teaching people about the many cultures and lifestyles in South America is a decent, well-intentioned one...but there's a difference between receiving that knowledge from the people who live there and learning it from the people of Disney, who basically went on vacation. Yeah, you can probably guess what you're getting into with that. But, thankfully, it's not as racist as you'd expect...at least, I hope it isn't. It's just a forty-five-minute movie with four somewhat harmless shorts that might--I repeat, MIGHT--not grossly discriminate like some of the worst racism that Disney is responsible for. I cringed, but not as much as I would for other movies. Just...if you want to learn more about South America, actually do the research. Don't rely on Disney. That's a tactic that will only result in a bad time for everyone involved.

#58. The Black Cauldron-This movie is an underrated masterpiece for some, and for others...it isn't. And I'm one of the people who agree that it isn't. I guess I can respect how dark this movie tries to be, but it also feels like it could be darker. Like, the Horn King and his army of the dead are pretty cool, but these moments with comedic sidekicks and whimsy scales things down a bit. It's almost as if Disney was too afraid to go all the way with this film, as if they weren't ready to drop the family-friendly aspect of their brand, and The Black Cauldron sufferers because of it. What hurts it even more is the lack of good characters. Everyone is so whiney, annoying, and pathetically incompetent. Especially the main character, who so desperately tries to prove that he's this warrior and does very little to do so, with the voice acting of Grant Bardsley being...not good. It's actually hilarious with how bad his acting is at times, the best example being when he screams. "Oh no." It's the easiest thing anyone can scream, and he fails it miserably. If you love The Black Cauldron, good for you. I don't, and I have no idea how anyone can. Sorry.

#57. Home on the Range-Yeah…this is not a great movie. I mean, it’s inoffensive, so I guess that’s a plus. But it’s just so…boring. I feel like if the characters were more charming and the jokes were funnier I could get into this, but the movie just couldn’t grab me. The only compliment I can give is the animation, which is often fluid and expressive enough where I can appreciate the work that went into the movie. I guess it’s enough for kids to enjoy, but Home on the Range is still a film I won’t be willing to rewatch anytime soon.

#56. Chicken Little-Or, as I like to call it, the true evidence that kids don’t give a s**t about substance.

Seriously, when I was little, this was one of my favorite movies, to the point where I would watch it over and over again. Why? Because it was silly and stupid and, as a kid, that’s all that mattered. But now that I’m an adult, I can certainly say that…yeah, this movie’s not good. The story is nonsensical as it goes from being about baseball to being about aliens, the pop songs are insufferable, and the whole world of this movie is just so…mean spirited. It tries to convey a message that everything is about how a person needs to do something that makes them popular to get by in life, which is a toxic mentality to have, especially in this day and age where EVERYBODY is doing just that. Whether it’s in school or on social media, tons of people, primarily teenagers, do stupid stuff just to stay relevant and “liked” amongst their peers. That alone would have been enough to make this movie sink hard, but the worst offense comes from the man, the myth, the chicken himself, Buck Cluck. This man is up there as one of the worst cartoon fathers due to how badly he isolates himself from Chicken Little. He never has his back, which is sort of the point for his character arc…but man what an awful arc to give a person. It would have been better to have him always try and support his son no matter what, getting mad that people are making fun of Chicken Little rather than becoming frustrated that he’s making their family image look bad. Or have him try and say the right thing but couldn’t find the words because he’s not used to sharing his feelings. What you don’t do is make him a jackass and to have him learn how to be slightly less like a jackass.

I don’t intensely hate Chicken Little like everyone else does, maybe because the sense of nostalgia is still with me, but that doesn’t change how hard the mistakes make me cringe. Seriously, what was young me thinking?

#55. Peter Pan-HAVEN'T WE DONE ENOUGH TO THE NATIVE AMERICANS?! Yes, I know that the piccaninny warriors are part of the original story. And yes, I'm well aware of how controversial it is, and to cut them out would soil the historical significance that shows just how poorly Native Americans were represented. With that said...it's still painful to watch. Like...why? Why did we as a society allow this to happen?!

With that said, the rest of the movie is...alright? Honestly, even looking past the incredibly racist representation of Native Americans, there's not much that I love about this movie. Wendy's too perfect, Tinkerbell's a tad bit sadistic due to her jealousy, and Peter Pan's a bit too much of a Peter prick. I guess that's the point of the story, but it just doesn't do much for me personally. Especially since it really rubs me the wrong way that Tinkerbell doesn't really apologize for nearly killing Wendy! Like...at all! Sure, Tinkerbell saves Peter, but she never offers an "I'm sorry" to Wendy. It's the two easiest words in the human language, and we get none of it! And it makes her arc–if you can even call it that–falling really short as there's no satisfying end to it.

I do like Captain Hook and his merry band of pirates, though. The humor that comes from each of them never failed to get a chuckle out of me, and I'd honestly watch a movie just about them if I could. But it's not enough to save the rest of Peter Pan. Do you love it? Good for you. I'm just not a fan.

#54. The Sword in the Stone-...I like the art style. Uh...Merlin's fight with Mimp was kind of fun...Yeah, I got nothing else. The Sword in the Stone is a mildly uninteresting movie that has an inkling of a good idea: Telling the story of how King Arthur earned his title and sword. The problem is that he doesn't really earn it. More or less, it gets handed over to him. Arthur doesn't really go on any hero's journey or go out of his way to solve his own problems. He just whines and moans until someone helps him out or waits until things work out rather than solving the situation for himself. And, well, that's not exactly how you write a good protagonist. His job should be becoming an active character rather than a passive one. And with how much he does so little, it hurts everything The Sword in the Stone was trying to do.

#53. Bambi-It's cute...but damn, is it uninteresting! I'm probably going to get a lot of s**t for saying that, but Bambi is a pretty boring movie, to be honest. I don't hate it. It's still an adorable and charming movie with a few well-done dramatic and intense moments. But it's also a film that's eighty-percent fluff. Pure, unadulterated, and inoffensive fluff. And people are into that, which I can see why. The thing is, if you prefer Disney movies with a little more excitement, you'll get some of that, but not enough. I can't hate Bambi because of how cute it is, and I'd be a monster if I did. It's just not a movie that interests me as much as others have. If I was still a kid, I'd probably love it. As an adult? I think I'll just play it for my kids...if I ever have any (which I won't).

#52. Dinosaur-This movie is surprisingly not that bad. Ugly as mud, but still not that bad.

Aladar’s dedication to doing the right thing and helping others despite the strain it puts on himself is insanely admirable and you really feel for him as he tries to help a herd of dinosaurs survive the end of the world. He might actually be up there as one of my favorite Disney protagonists due to how noble and kind he is (Though, there’s no beating Luz Noceda).

However, while not awful, there’s still a lot that holds this movie back. Like I said, it looks hideous. I’m sure it was revolutionary for the early 2000s, but man does the animation not age well. Especially those lemurs. Those will be in my nightmares tonight.

And the worst qualities of this movie comes with Korn, who is quite possibly the most aggravating antagonist in a Disney film. He’s supposed to be this tough leader who makes ill guided decisions, but everything he does is selfish and driven by not having someone take the lead over him. Even though Aladar presents better solutions, Korn would sooner throw two kids to their deaths if it meant that he’d be in charge. What a d**k.

Aladar might save this movie a bit, but the rest of it might as well go extinct.

#51. Raya and the Last Dragon-I really liked this movie the first time I saw it…What happened?

No, really, what happened? I went from really liking this movie, saying it had way too much hate, to now being on the side of those who criticized it. I mean, I wouldn’t say I hate Raya and the Last Dragon, as there is some great animation, exciting action, and a few fun characters. But…MAN, if there was a movie that should have been a full-length animated series, it would be this one. This whole movie is about Raya trusting people again, correct? Well, to best convey that, she’ll need more time than a few minutes dealing with a new character and learning to put her faith in them. We can’t spend too much time on Raya trusting others because we need to keep the movie going to meet the deadline–I mean, runtime. This really does seem like something that needed more time dedicated to it than just an hour and forty-seven minutes. It’d honestly work better with…I’m thinking three seasons. Thirteen episodes each. It would certainly help develop the character’s bond with each other, I can tell you that much. The writers are on the right track of having these people who’ve lost families to form one with each other, which would have worked better if they all spent more time together as a group.

But no amount of time would have benefited a certain character. You see, I originally liked Raya and the Last Dragon’s message. And, to be honest, I still kind of do. I believe if we had more faith in one another instead of fighting over who gets to have the most control over everything, the world will be a better place. The problem is that Raya and the Last Dragon tries to teach this message by having everyone put their faith into one character. A character who severely screwed over the world and showed zero remorse for it. There are people on this planet I will never give my trust to because they clearly don’t deserve it. The same goes for this one character, who would have worked better if they were as much of a pawn as everyone else was. Not the main contributor to dooming the world. A shame, really, because the message is good. It just had poor execution. The same goes for Raya and the Last Dragon.

It’s not bad for an initial watch, but I honestly couldn’t finish it a second time through. I guess a part of me will always appreciate the movie for what it tries to be, but good ideas don’t always save a movie.

Alright, ten down and fifty more to go. I’ll see you all tomorrow as we transition from the worst of the worst to the more mediocre movies.

Thank you for reading, and take care.

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

Hi! So this is not a suggestion of wlw media (unfortunately) but a related question. I went on a rather extensive search for more wlw media about a year ago, specifically because I wanted good wlw books in my life, and very quickly got very frustrated by how many books were getting recommended (in lists, posts, videos) by people who hadn't even read them, just recommended bc they'd heard they were wlw, and I learned the long and hard way that just because a story is queer does not mean it's good. Part of this may be my particular taste, but I generally feel like in queer spaces, queer books get a lot of slack simply for "having representation", regardless of whether they actually have an interesting story, good characters or good worldbuilding (or good writing, but that's quite subjective anyway, as are, to an extent, the other aspects as well). So I spent a long time plowing through thoroughly mediocre reading experiences and getting progressively more frustrated.

All this to say, I'm wondering what your stance is on this, and whether you have specific recommendations of wlw books (aside from GtN obviously) that you personally enjoyed more than others?

(i hope this isn't too convoluted a question, your post asking for recs just sort of triggered this whole thought process and I apparently have a lot of residual frustration about this hahah it's like... yeah I want to buy every book that people tell me is "sci-fi and wlw" or "fantasy and wlw" but like... that doesn't automatically result in good media y'know?)

((second side note, I could probably recommend a LOT of wlw books that didn't work for me personally but might work for other people, but I would always want to add qualifiers to this, to explain why I didn't enjoy a given book or who I think might be a better target audience - I find it really difficult to give a recommendation that solely consists of a title and an author, if that makes sense??))

Oh, I totally get what you mean. Queer is not a genre, but there are few enough books with good representation (especially wlw) that they all seem to get lumped together sometimes without any consideration for what they're actually about.

That being said, I really like seeing myself represented in media, and I really like reading, so I've been wading through every recommendation list I can find. There are plenty on those lists I don't end up actually reading, after looking over summaries and reviews and deciding that it does really sound like what I'd enjoy. What would honestly be ideal for me would be if we could just put, like, a sticker or something on books that say "bi woman main character" or whatever, so that I could just start with my preferred genre and keep an eye out for queer books in that genre, rather than starting with "queer" and then having to filter for something with subject matter I actually like.

And I'm happy to provide some more detailed recommendations of my favorite wlw books! But I want to offer a few caveats about my personal tastes, because they are far from universal. I don't generally like books where the crux of the plot is homophobia or one of its byproducts, like a coming out narrative. I want the story to be about something else. It's a big reason I steer away from modern settings - that kind of narrative seems more common there. However, I also don't enjoy queer books that are completely free of societal pressures like homophobia either. For better or worse, prejudice has played a big part in how I've come into my own identity and how I navigate it in the real world. When that's completely absent from queer fiction, it means that I'm not going to see that aspect of my identity reflected in the characters, and that makes it less satisfying for me. I'm also partial to extremely flawed women doing the best they can and hurting a lot of people and themselves in the process. Finally, I love logistics and political maneuvering. I like stories with a lot of detailed systems and plots that depend on maneuvering through those systems elegantly.

All that being said, my favorite book series, possibly even a little ahead of TLT right now, is The Masquerade, the first book of which is The Traitor Baru Cormorant. It is heavy on politics intrigue with a focus on cultural and economic manipulations, and it follows an incredibly bright and ruthless young lesbian as she navigates the hierarchies of the nation that colonized her homeland and attempts to bring it down. It as an incredibly dark series, with a lot of tragedy, imperialism, prejudice, and extremely dark grey characters (seriously - the most sympathetic characters include several mass murderers, an anti-rebellion counter agent, a military torturer, and a professional lobotomist), but with some absolutely beautiful world building and cultures and enormous ideas about all sorts of systemic issues. It's incredibly well-written, the characters are extremely compelling, and it is astonishingly funny in some places in ways that I really enjoyed. And it's not finished yet, but the most recent book does end on a real high note.

The next one I'd recommend is The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, which is a standalone novel. It follows the life and career of a fictitious Hollywood actress in the form of a series of interviews she gives to her biographer. Again, we have a morally grey woman who hurt a lot of people in her pursuit of fame and regrets very little of it. But she's absolutely compelling, and the ways she navigates around the prejudices and power structures of her industry - sexism and homophobia and racism, abuses and betrayals, all in pursuit of glory and, eventually, happiness - is absolutely thrilling to read.

The final book I'll recommend is Ship of Smoke and Steel. This book and its sequels are true fantasy, magic system and all, but it's an unconventional take. This first book's protagonist starts as one of the morally darkest characters I've ever come to consider unambiguously good. The series as a whole follows to sisters born into incredible poverty, with the older using a life of crime to finance a more stable life for the younger. Their journeys parallel each other - one learns how to be cruel and callous in pursuit of a higher purpose, the other learns she doesn't always have to be. The magic system enables an excellent examination of the limits of individual vs systemic power, and the series as a whole is very interested in examining class as an axis of oppression, over and beyond anything else. I have glibly described the first book as, "The Maze Runner if the Maze Runner was queer and made any fucking sense."

I hope that helps, and thanks for the ask!

[onlythebrave-mp3]

my top 2020 fics!

okay! so i recently jumped back into this fandom after a couple of years, and started reading fic again, and i wanted to rec some of my favorites that were written this year. there’s ten on this list, and i probably could’ve done like 30 but this is already so long lol. it’s kind of in a general order, so #1 is my fav for this year, but i tried not to focus on the ranking too much because it stresses me out and i don’t need any more anxiety so it’s ended up being a pretty vague system.

1.  Our Lives, Non-Fiction (113k) by @indiaalphawhiskey 

listen. I’ve reblogged this fic like 10 times. I’ve read it twice already and it came out less than 3 weeks ago. It is an instant classic, right up there with fics like TIF or Wear it like a Crown. It has gorgeous, gorgeous writing, a thoroughly developed plot and well written character development, and such a compelling story. It is a marcel/louis fic, and I usually shy away from that kind of thing, but i’m so glad i didn’t this time because god, this one is so good. Seriously, if anyone ends up reading it, come and rant to me about it and we can cry together. Halfway through the second chapter, I created a note on my phone so I could keep track of everything I loved, and my comment on that fic is essentially a love letter to @indiaalphawhiskey. It's just so good. If you’re going to read one fic off this list, read this one. 

2. Loving You's a Bloodsport (106k) by @rosesau

okay i’m pretty sure this one made me cry like four times, which is a feat for me because i’m not usually a crier. Its soulmates with a little bit of a twist, and the plot is so well developed. Harry and louis’ feelings and their progression are written so vividly and i wish i could forget that i read it so i could go and read it again for the first time. It's also got some enemies to lovers, which is my favorite trope, and all of the side characters are beautifully developed as well. Prince!Harry, soldier!Louis, angsty soulmates. What more could you want? Oh and if you’re not convinced enough, here is a quote that fucking follows me around because its so beautiful: “Love and hate are two sharp knives balanced on a very fine line and I’ve cut myself on both because of you.” (ohmygod)

3. Mine Would Be You (114k) by @crinkle-eyed-boo

okay this one is listed at number three but it really should be 1c lol. I started this one at 11 pm like an idiot, and i don’t think i slept that night at all. It's Exes to lovers, and it's so well written. It switches between the past and the present, it's  heartbreakingly beautiful, the breakup and resolution are both so realistically written as well, and there's a great ot5 plotline too that i really loved. This one was also an instant classic- i bookmarked it before i even finished reading it. It's also got beautiful art and Louis and Harry are both artists in NYC, which I'm a slut for. Please read this one, it's so good.

okay i just realized how long this got so i’m putting the rest under the cut

4. The Murmur of Yearning (93k) by @mediawhorefics (for some reason tumblr isn’t letting me tag them??) | mediawhore on ao3 

I just finished this one, and my goddddddd it's so good. I read it in a day, and it's essentially 100k. Which isn’t that unusual for me except I did skip a class to get through it (an exam prep class. Not my finest moment but I passed. so.) There are tons of original characters that draw you in, and the whole world that is created is so fascinating and detailed. There's also no homophobia, so if you like historical fics but get triggered by that kind of thing, this is for you! Also, if you’re worried about the non-con elements, I'm sure you could message the author but also feel free to check in with me! I’ll definitely be rereading it in the near future and am totally up for discussing and crying over this fic with anyone.

5. Remember Me Fondly by @bluejeanlouis | kiddle on ao3 

ahhhhhhh this one made me sob too! It's set in both the present and the past, and I fell in love with all of the characters. This one is also heartbreaking, but I promise there’s a happy ending. Also, they way this fic deals with the fame and the homophobia and tours that harry and louis went through -even if it isn’t actually canon and is set in the 90s- is so vividly painful and realistic. It's written half through a journalist’s eyes and half through harry and louis, yet the switch in pov is so seamless and fluid and adds so much to the piece. 11/10.

6. Nothing But You On My Mind (83k) by @absoloutenonsense | nonsensedarling on ao3

okay. I started this in the middle of the night, and told myself I'd read one chapter to see if I liked it and then I would go to sleep. I'm pretty sure I read like 6. It sucks you in right from the beginning, and there's such a well developed plot. And it's so unpredictable and all of the details are so nuanced and tiny and then you look back at everything after you’ve finished it and go oh. Ohhhhhh. This one is also enemies to lovers. Are we sensing a pattern here?

7. An Invincible Summer (44k) by @twopoppies | Brooklyn_Babylon on ao3 

so as you can see this one is only 45k but i just love it so much that i’m rec’ing in anyways. It’s such a gentle, exploratory piece of literal art, and I kind of want to stay in the world that was created forever. Its set in the 1940s on a farm and i know @twopoppies has said that it started off as an excuse for barn sex, but it such a vivid story and its heartbreaking and emotional and uplifting all at once and please please please go read this. The only critique I have of it is that it's only 40k.

8. Somewhere in Between Lightning (99k) by @nauticalleeds, @shiningdistraction, and jassy117 on ao3

So this one's exes-to-lovers as well, and it's written in such a realistic way. Also i’m in love with the concept of louis on love island, despite the fact that he said he hates it. There's a sauna scene that I still think about sometimes. It's got just the right amount of angst and fluff and pining and despite the fact that it's set on a show that is usually pretty dramatic and unrealistic, this is written in a really beautiful but pragmatic way. I love it. i’ve got it  downloaded on my phone so I can read little snippets of it sometimes if I have to wait somewhere.

9. You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) (95k) by @harryrainbows | lucythegoosey on ao3 

god so this one incorporates some of Fine Line into it, and wouldn’t say it's a song fic so much as it is written as a canon compliant fic that ties harry’s songs into it and its done so fucking well oh my god. Harry and Louis are exes in this one too (lol i'm sorry) and the build up of them getting together and the pining and longing is written really well.

10. At Risk, I Fold (15k) by @bearmustard | clare328 on ao3 

so i know this one is only 15k, but I put this in the list anyways. It's canon compliant, and it does mention the stunts (as stunts), but don’t let that deter you. Harry and Louis are written almost exactly as i’ve imagined them, and this one is such a heartbreaking look into the resilience and love and bravery that they have. It made me cry despite the fact that it’s not really a glum fic. The only reason it is last on the list is because it's shorter and i was mostly intending this to be a long fic rec. The love that they have for each other really shines through in this one, and it’s super gentle and soft and sad and happy all at once and just please go read it.

[flabbergasties]

I’m like two chapters into your Emisue fic and holy shit. I’m losing my mind. This is probs like top five fics I’ve read in my life. Like going up there with the ones I remember years after reading them. The show is good (for me) for two reasons: 1) It translates modern ideas/themes to a historical context without feeling forced and 2) allowing for Sue and Emily to be so, so messy and have a complex, undefinable, ineffable relationship Yours does the opposite of point one, integrating details like Victorian flower language and how Emily bound her poems to a modern setting in a way that deepens characters and gives background. And the “friends-who-hooked-up-then-established-boundaries-and-(kinda)-moved-on to fake dating to lovers” thing just adds to the mess and gives their dynamic a complexity that is granted by the fluidity of Victorian sexuality/marriage to Austin in the show. Anyways, I really really love this, amazing job!

alkfjalskdjflakjsd THANK YOU, this is so, so sweet. I'm THRILLED you're enjoying the fic omg

I love you connecting time period & messiness - 'Cuz I think that Emily & Sue's relationship dynamic is, like, forever deeply intertwined with time period — they were messy and undefinable and indescribably intimate but also really isolated/separated from one another. A lot of that has to do with the way that female "friendships" (I am putting this in quotes because obviously it's cringe for US to call what they had a friendship but back in the day the Victorians really were like "Oh? They're fucks-ing? Just gals being pals" like LITCHRALLY it was called romantic friendship and 'twas a THING) existed at the time. There was a strange sort of allowance to female intimacy at the time, but also this expectation that once you found a dude, you were supposed to drop the intimacy, and I think that made for a lot of relationships where women felt safe enough to explore their feelings but didn't have the freedom to...pursue them.

Idk if that makes any sense at all, but the point is: It's always fascinating to put Emily and Sue's dynamic into modern context, because their issues were so period-specific (not because of homophobia, but more because there weren't words for what they were. There wasn't a way to put their feelings into a larger context, a community, or a label. Which left them floating, anchorless — and I think the show, which IS set in that time but with a modern twist, does a decent job of highlighting this anchorless-ness). There were so many times that I was writing that fic and thinking, "No, but, like, what's the actual problem that have with eachother?"

Which is always a fun thing to work through lololol

ANYWAY I'm glad that you think that it works — my whole attempt at modernizing the issues of contextualization & language that real!Emisue faced. That makes me really happy! I think there's a lot of value in trying to understand the messy complexities of historical relationships because they're wildly different than our own relationships but also...really, really not.

(And I'm always one to find comfort in the fact that queers have been messy for millennia. Idk why, but it pleases me)

OKAY THAT WAS LONG, I JUST HAVEN'T RANTED ABOUT THESE LADIES IN A WHILE! I hope that you enjoy the rest of the chapters and I haven't totally let you down by the time you finish it!!!

[autiadhd]

Ableism: why isn’t it spoken about?

In recent years, campaigns for awareness and equal rights of minority groups have become all the more prominent, and for good reason. The Black Lives Matter, Trans Rights Are Human Rights and Stop Asian Hate movements are just some of the large-scale calls for equality and recognition from minority groups in the last few years. This is absolutely brilliant. Sure, this doesn’t mean that our troubles are over, far from it, we have a very long way to go before these groups will see true equality, but the awareness is beginning to grow and more people are being educated about these extremely important matters.

However, as a disabled person, I have noticed a very distinct lack of movements when it comes to ableism. In fact, ableism seems to be an unspoken prejudice, merely a whisper or undertone below the rest of these massive campaigns for awareness and equality. The only time I see ableism mentioned is when other disabled people bring it up and even then it gets swept right back under the rug again. Nobody seems to want to take a longer, harder look into the issues us disabled people face. It’s usually a face value “oh, it’s quite bad that this happens to disabled people” and then nothing, silence. Several of my teachers didn’t even know ableism was a word.

When people call out discrimination, they tend to list off several forms of it, like racism, homophobia, transphobia, sexism…and then the list ends there. Maybe they add “and more” or some other indication that there are more minorities suffering, but people don’t seem to want to name and shame ableism.

A lot of people seem to believe ableism is a smaller issue than most, but this is a direct result of a lack of awareness and reporting and protesting, which is a result of people believing it’s a small issue, which creates a vicious cycle. I am not trying to discredit the importance of the issues raised by the Black Lives Matter or LGBTQ+ Rights movements - these are absolutely vital in moving towards a more equal and fair future. But ableism is treated like a total non-issue by seemingly all who do not experience it. When you’re disabled and experience ableism every day of your life, the feeling that nobody is fighting for your safety and security is isolating.

I’ve been shunned my whole life for practically every single symptom of every disorder and disability I have. Whether it’s the way I act, how I talk too loud or too fast, how I can’t understand social cues well, how I zone out sometimes, how I forget things easily, how I walk “weirdly”, how I latch on to “childish” interests, how I stim, how I can’t manage much physical activity without pain or countless other things, I have been pulled apart for every symptom I have and ridiculed for every last thing anyone can find “wrong” with me. And yet, when I speak up on ableism, I am met with silence. Schools still blatantly refuse to raise any real, genuine awareness, instead opting for very ineffective and cheap anti-bullying messages that rarely ever stopped a single bully and never actually discuss what the bullies are making fun of in the first place. Something needs to change.

We need to raise more awareness about disabilities, as a whole and specific disabilities too. Schools need to educate more strongly, more often and more deeply about disabilities and the issues disabled people face. As a whole, we need to protest ableism more, raise our voices, uplift the voices of disabled people and re-evaluate how we treat those who are different to us. We need to campaign for more accessibility for all kinds of disabilities in all kinds of settings. We can make a genuine, positive difference if everyone puts the work in to be more inclusive and more vocal about ableism, so why is it swept under the rug so frequently? It isn’t hard to speak up or to educate yourself or to simply be more open to listening to disabled people and their experiences. There is no equality until every single minority group is uplifted and supported, not just the ones you hear the most about on the news.

[sapphicssukii]

1- i am So sorry i just spammed you with likes your posts are just. very powerful 2- do you have any good gaang era zukka fic recs?

don’t be sorry babe!! it’s flattering that you think my posts are powerful lmao 

it took me a little bit of time (since i seem to almost exclusive read post-war firelord/ambassador zukka. i am a fool for western air temple zukka tho) but the with help of @bisexuallsokka​ and @nothing-more-than-hot-leaf-juice​, i have compiled a few fic recs for your reading pleasure. 

book 1-3 zukka fic recs:

absence of heat, excess of destiny (G / 4.3k): soulmate-identifying marks where sokka has a red dragon on his back and zuko has a dark sword, recounts the tales of the gaang and zuko chasing the avatar through these lens 

The Perfect Distraction  (T / 2.7k): based on book 1, sokka goes into the woods alone and runs into zuko; they get into battle and sokka may or may not have distracted his opponent by kissing him 

The Usual Reasons (T / 10k): some of that coveted western air temple sleeplessness and practicing with swords; katara still can’t stand zuko, but sokka learns to get along with him; they share a bed and some secrets 

In Which Sokka Is More Of A Disaster Than Usual But Also Deeply In Denial About It (T / 10.3k): post-boiling rock, pre-sozin’s comet; sokka learns that he might like boys too and they lean more about each other; first kiss for these two idiots 

when i’m set alight (T / 5.7k): western air temple; zuko has insomnia and sokka develops a crush on zuko, zuko is dealing with internalized homophobia, but they don’t come to terms with their feelings until after surviving sozin’s comet 

Zuko’s Love Song (T / 4.8k): zuko’s journey with his internalized homophobia and feelings; past minor jetko, but it’s got good zukka relationship analysis 

Blue (T / ongoing): zuko and iroh are in ba-sing-se; zuko becomes the blue spirit and fixates on sokka; sokka maybe also is interested in the blue spirit  

How Zuko Kind of Maybe Starts Accidentally Dating the Water Tribe Peasant  (T / 13.3k): totally non-canon compliant, but zuko is lee at the teashop and sokka is a new customer who realizes it’s him; they get together and go on cute dates 

my heart in two  (T / 2.4k): in which they’re falling in love in the western air temple with tired boys literally sleeping together

i probably missed a few, but feel free to reblog and add other suggestions!

[a-room-of-my-own]

This isn’t an easy piece to write, for reasons that will shortly become clear, but I know it’s time to explain myself on an issue surrounded by toxicity. I write this without any desire to add to that toxicity.

For people who don’t know: last December I tweeted my support for Maya Forstater, a tax specialist who’d lost her job for what were deemed ‘transphobic’ tweets. She took her case to an employment tribunal, asking the judge to rule on whether a philosophical belief that sex is determined by biology is protected in law. Judge Tayler ruled that it wasn’t.

My interest in trans issues pre-dated Maya’s case by almost two years, during which I followed the debate around the concept of gender identity closely. I’ve met trans people, and read sundry books, blogs and articles by trans people, gender specialists, intersex people, psychologists, safeguarding experts, social workers and doctors, and followed the discourse online and in traditional media. On one level, my interest in this issue has been professional, because I’m writing a crime series, set in the present day, and my fictional female detective is of an age to be interested in, and affected by, these issues herself, but on another, it’s intensely personal, as I’m about to explain.

All the time I’ve been researching and learning, accusations and threats from trans activists have been bubbling in my Twitter timeline. This was initially triggered by a ‘like’. When I started taking an interest in gender identity and transgender matters, I began screenshotting comments that interested me, as a way of reminding myself what I might want to research later. On one occasion, I absent-mindedly ‘liked’ instead of screenshotting. That single ‘like’ was deemed evidence of wrongthink, and a persistent low level of harassment began.

Months later, I compounded my accidental ‘like’ crime by following Magdalen Burns on Twitter. Magdalen was an immensely brave young feminist and lesbian who was dying of an aggressive brain tumour. I followed her because I wanted to contact her directly, which I succeeded in doing. However, as Magdalen was a great believer in the importance of biological sex, and didn’t believe lesbians should be called bigots for not dating trans women with penises, dots were joined in the heads of twitter trans activists, and the level of social media abuse increased.

I mention all this only to explain that I knew perfectly well what was going to happen when I supported Maya. I must have been on my fourth or fifth cancellation by then. I expected the threats of violence, to be told I was literally killing trans people with my hate, to be called cunt and bitch and, of course, for my books to be burned, although one particularly abusive man told me he’d composted them.

What I didn’t expect in the aftermath of my cancellation was the avalanche of emails and letters that came showering down upon me, the overwhelming majority of which were positive, grateful and supportive. They came from a cross-section of kind, empathetic and intelligent people, some of them working in fields dealing with gender dysphoria and trans people, who’re all deeply concerned about the way a socio-political concept is influencing politics, medical practice and safeguarding. They’re worried about the dangers to young people, gay people and about the erosion of women’s and girl’s rights. Above all, they’re worried about a climate of fear that serves nobody – least of all trans youth – well.

I’d stepped back from Twitter for many months both before and after tweeting support for Maya, because I knew it was doing nothing good for my mental health. I only returned because I wanted to share a free children’s book during the pandemic. Immediately, activists who clearly believe themselves to be good, kind and progressive people swarmed back into my timeline, assuming a right to police my speech, accuse me of hatred, call me misogynistic slurs and, above all – as every woman involved in this debate will know – TERF.

If you didn’t already know – and why should you? – ‘TERF’ is an acronym coined by trans activists, which stands for Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminist. In practice, a huge and diverse cross-section of women are currently being called TERFs and the vast majority have never been radical feminists. Examples of so-called TERFs range from the mother of a gay child who was afraid their child wanted to transition to escape homophobic bullying, to a hitherto totally unfeminist older lady who’s vowed never to visit Marks & Spencer again because they’re allowing any man who says they identify as a woman into the women’s changing rooms. Ironically, radical feminists aren’t even trans-exclusionary – they include trans men in their feminism, because they were born women.

But accusations of TERFery have been sufficient to intimidate many people, institutions and organisations I once admired, who’re cowering before the tactics of the playground. ‘They’ll call us transphobic!’ ‘They’ll say I hate trans people!’ What next, they’ll say you’ve got fleas? Speaking as a biological woman, a lot of people in positions of power really need to grow a pair (which is doubtless literally possible, according to the kind of people who argue that clownfish prove humans aren’t a dimorphic species).

So why am I doing this? Why speak up? Why not quietly do my research and keep my head down?

Well, I’ve got five reasons for being worried about the new trans activism, and deciding I need to speak up.

Firstly, I have a charitable trust that focuses on alleviating social deprivation in Scotland, with a particular emphasis on women and children. Among other things, my trust supports projects for female prisoners and for survivors of domestic and sexual abuse. I also fund medical research into MS, a disease that behaves very differently in men and women. It’s been clear to me for a while that the new trans activism is having (or is likely to have, if all its demands are met) a significant impact on many of the causes I support, because it’s pushing to erode the legal definition of sex and replace it with gender.

The second reason is that I’m an ex-teacher and the founder of a children’s charity, which gives me an interest in both education and safeguarding. Like many others, I have deep concerns about the effect the trans rights movement is having on both.

The third is that, as a much-banned author, I’m interested in freedom of speech and have publicly defended it, even unto Donald Trump.

The fourth is where things start to get truly personal. I’m concerned about the huge explosion in young women wishing to transition and also about the increasing numbers who seem to be detransitioning (returning to their original sex), because they regret taking steps that have, in some cases, altered their bodies irrevocably, and taken away their fertility. Some say they decided to transition after realising they were same-sex attracted, and that transitioning was partly driven by homophobia, either in society or in their families.

Most people probably aren’t aware – I certainly wasn’t, until I started researching this issue properly – that ten years ago, the majority of people wanting to transition to the opposite sex were male. That ratio has now reversed. The UK has experienced a 4400% increase in girls being referred for transitioning treatment. Autistic girls are hugely overrepresented in their numbers.

The same phenomenon has been seen in the US. In 2018, American physician and researcher Lisa Littman set out to explore it. In an interview, she said:

‘Parents online were describing a very unusual pattern of transgender-identification where multiple friends and even entire friend groups became transgender-identified at the same time. I would have been remiss had I not considered social contagion and peer influences as potential factors.’

Littman mentioned Tumblr, Reddit, Instagram and YouTube as contributing factors to Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria, where she believes that in the realm of transgender identification ‘youth have created particularly insular echo chambers.’

Her paper caused a furore. She was accused of bias and of spreading misinformation about transgender people, subjected to a tsunami of abuse and a concerted campaign to discredit both her and her work. The journal took the paper offline and re-reviewed it before republishing it. However, her career took a similar hit to that suffered by Maya Forstater. Lisa Littman had dared challenge one of the central tenets of trans activism, which is that a person’s gender identity is innate, like sexual orientation. Nobody, the activists insisted, could ever be persuaded into being trans.

The argument of many current trans activists is that if you don’t let a gender dysphoric teenager transition, they will kill themselves. In an article explaining why he resigned from the Tavistock (an NHS gender clinic in England) psychiatrist Marcus Evans stated that claims that children will kill themselves if not permitted to transition do not ‘align substantially with any robust data or studies in this area. Nor do they align with the cases I have encountered over decades as a psychotherapist.’

The writings of young trans men reveal a group of notably sensitive and clever people. The more of their accounts of gender dysphoria I’ve read, with their insightful descriptions of anxiety, dissociation, eating disorders, self-harm and self-hatred, the more I’ve wondered whether, if I’d been born 30 years later, I too might have tried to transition. The allure of escaping womanhood would have been huge. I struggled with severe OCD as a teenager. If I’d found community and sympathy online that I couldn’t find in my immediate environment, I believe I could have been persuaded to turn myself into the son my father had openly said he’d have preferred.

When I read about the theory of gender identity, I remember how mentally sexless I felt in youth. I remember Colette’s description of herself as a ‘mental hermaphrodite’ and Simone de Beauvoir’s words: ‘It is perfectly natural for the future woman to feel indignant at the limitations posed upon her by her sex. The real question is not why she should reject them: the problem is rather to understand why she accepts them.’

As I didn’t have a realistic possibility of becoming a man back in the 1980s, it had to be books and music that got me through both my mental health issues and the sexualised scrutiny and judgement that sets so many girls to war against their bodies in their teens. Fortunately for me, I found my own sense of otherness, and my ambivalence about being a woman, reflected in the work of female writers and musicians who reassured me that, in spite of everything a sexist world tries to throw at the female-bodied, it’s fine not to feel pink, frilly and compliant inside your own head; it’s OK to feel confused, dark, both sexual and non-sexual, unsure of what or who you are.

I want to be very clear here: I know transition will be a solution for some gender dysphoric people, although I’m also aware through extensive research that studies have consistently shown that between 60-90% of gender dysphoric teens will grow out of their dysphoria. Again and again I’ve been told to ‘just meet some trans people.’ I have: in addition to a few younger people, who were all adorable, I happen to know a self-described transsexual woman who’s older than I am and wonderful. Although she’s open about her past as a gay man, I’ve always found it hard to think of her as anything other than a woman, and I believe (and certainly hope) she’s completely happy to have transitioned. Being older, though, she went through a long and rigorous process of evaluation, psychotherapy and staged transformation. The current explosion of trans activism is urging a removal of almost all the robust systems through which candidates for sex reassignment were once required to pass. A man who intends to have no surgery and take no hormones may now secure himself a Gender Recognition Certificate and be a woman in the sight of the law. Many people aren’t aware of this.

We’re living through the most misogynistic period I’ve experienced. Back in the 80s, I imagined that my future daughters, should I have any, would have it far better than I ever did, but between the backlash against feminism and a porn-saturated online culture, I believe things have got significantly worse for girls. Never have I seen women denigrated and dehumanised to the extent they are now. From the leader of the free world’s long history of sexual assault accusations and his proud boast of ‘grabbing them by the pussy’, to the incel (‘involuntarily celibate’) movement that rages against women who won’t give them sex, to the trans activists who declare that TERFs need punching and re-educating, men across the political spectrum seem to agree: women are asking for trouble. Everywhere, women are being told to shut up and sit down, or else.

I’ve read all the arguments about femaleness not residing in the sexed body, and the assertions that biological women don’t have common experiences, and I find them, too, deeply misogynistic and regressive. It’s also clear that one of the objectives of denying the importance of sex is to erode what some seem to see as the cruelly segregationist idea of women having their own biological realities or – just as threatening – unifying realities that make them a cohesive political class. The hundreds of emails I’ve received in the last few days prove this erosion concerns many others just as much. It isn’t enough for women to be trans allies. Women must accept and admit that there is no material difference between trans women and themselves.

But, as many women have said before me, ‘woman’ is not a costume. ‘Woman’ is not an idea in a man’s head. ‘Woman’ is not a pink brain, a liking for Jimmy Choos or any of the other sexist ideas now somehow touted as progressive. Moreover, the ‘inclusive’ language that calls female people ‘menstruators’ and ‘people with vulvas’ strikes many women as dehumanising and demeaning. I understand why trans activists consider this language to be appropriate and kind, but for those of us who’ve had degrading slurs spat at us by violent men, it’s not neutral, it’s hostile and alienating.

Which brings me to the fifth reason I’m deeply concerned about the consequences of the current trans activism.

I’ve been in the public eye now for over twenty years and have never talked publicly about being a domestic abuse and sexual assault survivor. This isn’t because I’m ashamed those things happened to me, but because they’re traumatic to revisit and remember. I also feel protective of my daughter from my first marriage. I didn’t want to claim sole ownership of a story that belongs to her, too. However, a short while ago, I asked her how she’d feel if I were publicly honest about that part of my life, and she encouraged me to go ahead.

I’m mentioning these things now not in an attempt to garner sympathy, but out of solidarity with the huge numbers of women who have histories like mine, who’ve been slurred as bigots for having concerns around single-sex spaces.

I managed to escape my first violent marriage with some difficulty, but I’m now married to a truly good and principled man, safe and secure in ways I never in a million years expected to be. However, the scars left by violence and sexual assault don’t disappear, no matter how loved you are, and no matter how much money you’ve made. My perennial jumpiness is a family joke – and even I know it’s funny – but I pray my daughters never have the same reasons I do for hating sudden loud noises, or finding people behind me when I haven’t heard them approaching.

If you could come inside my head and understand what I feel when I read about a trans woman dying at the hands of a violent man, you’d find solidarity and kinship. I have a visceral sense of the terror in which those trans women will have spent their last seconds on earth, because I too have known moments of blind fear when I realised that the only thing keeping me alive was the shaky self-restraint of my attacker.

I believe the majority of trans-identified people not only pose zero threat to others, but are vulnerable for all the reasons I’ve outlined. Trans people need and deserve protection. Like women, they’re most likely to be killed by sexual partners. Trans women who work in the sex industry, particularly trans women of colour, are at particular risk. Like every other domestic abuse and sexual assault survivor I know, I feel nothing but empathy and solidarity with trans women who’ve been abused by men.

So I want trans women to be safe. At the same time, I do not want to make natal girls and women less safe. When you throw open the doors of bathrooms and changing rooms to any man who believes or feels he’s a woman – and, as I’ve said, gender confirmation certificates may now be granted without any need for surgery or hormones – then you open the door to any and all men who wish to come inside. That is the simple truth.

On Saturday morning, I read that the Scottish government is proceeding with its controversial gender recognition plans, which will in effect mean that all a man needs to ‘become a woman’ is to say he’s one. To use a very contemporary word, I was ‘triggered’. Ground down by the relentless attacks from trans activists on social media, when I was only there to give children feedback about pictures they’d drawn for my book under lockdown, I spent much of Saturday in a very dark place inside my head, as memories of a serious sexual assault I suffered in my twenties recurred on a loop. That assault happened at a time and in a space where I was vulnerable, and a man capitalised on an opportunity. I couldn’t shut out those memories and I was finding it hard to contain my anger and disappointment about the way I believe my government is playing fast and loose with womens and girls’ safety.

Late on Saturday evening, scrolling through children’s pictures before I went to bed, I forgot the first rule of Twitter – never, ever expect a nuanced conversation – and reacted to what I felt was degrading language about women. I spoke up about the importance of sex and have been paying the price ever since. I was transphobic, I was a cunt, a bitch, a TERF, I deserved cancelling, punching and death. You are Voldemort said one person, clearly feeling this was the only language I’d understand.

It would be so much easier to tweet the approved hashtags – because of course trans rights are human rights and of course trans lives matter – scoop up the woke cookies and bask in a virtue-signalling afterglow. There’s joy, relief and safety in conformity. As Simone de Beauvoir also wrote, “… without a doubt it is more comfortable to endure blind bondage than to work for one’s liberation; the dead, too, are better suited to the earth than the living.”

Huge numbers of women are justifiably terrified by the trans activists; I know this because so many have got in touch with me to tell their stories. They’re afraid of doxxing, of losing their jobs or their livelihoods, and of violence.

But endlessly unpleasant as its constant targeting of me has been, I refuse to bow down to a movement that I believe is doing demonstrable harm in seeking to erode ‘woman’ as a political and biological class and offering cover to predators like few before it. I stand alongside the brave women and men, gay, straight and trans, who’re standing up for freedom of speech and thought, and for the rights and safety of some of the most vulnerable in our society: young gay kids, fragile teenagers, and women who’re reliant on and wish to retain their single sex spaces. Polls show those women are in the vast majority, and exclude only those privileged or lucky enough never to have come up against male violence or sexual assault, and who’ve never troubled to educate themselves on how prevalent it is.

The one thing that gives me hope is that the women who can protest and organise, are doing so, and they have some truly decent men and trans people alongside them. Political parties seeking to appease the loudest voices in this debate are ignoring women’s concerns at their peril. In the UK, women are reaching out to each other across party lines, concerned about the erosion of their hard-won rights and widespread intimidation. None of the gender critical women I’ve talked to hates trans people; on the contrary. Many of them became interested in this issue in the first place out of concern for trans youth, and they’re hugely sympathetic towards trans adults who simply want to live their lives, but who’re facing a backlash for a brand of activism they don’t endorse. The supreme irony is that the attempt to silence women with the word ‘TERF’ may have pushed more young women towards radical feminism than the movement’s seen in decades.

The last thing I want to say is this. I haven’t written this essay in the hope that anybody will get out a violin for me, not even a teeny-weeny one. I’m extraordinarily fortunate; I’m a survivor, certainly not a victim. I’ve only mentioned my past because, like every other human being on this planet, I have a complex backstory, which shapes my fears, my interests and my opinions. I never forget that inner complexity when I’m creating a fictional character and I certainly never forget it when it comes to trans people.

All I’m asking – all I want – is for similar empathy, similar understanding, to be extended to the many millions of women whose sole crime is wanting their concerns to be heard without receiving threats and abuse.

[misterbitches]

i had the misfortune of finally watching/getting through what happened in whatever episode where he gets raped so im gonna talk about it and tag it cos that's what a bitch fuckin feels like, got it? i do what i want aint no limit bad ass bitch aint never been timid. woopsie realized i got the nicknames confused oh well lmao

it's just logistically and plot wise like there's literal plot holes in this and i'm taking the production and set-up into account along with the actual content and development. im an ARTIST OKAY im jk i mean i am and i am pretentious and terrible but look. i didnt get that degree and im not in a house worth of debt for nothing ok. it's called writing on tumblr about my grievances of shows that dont matter and do not respect me as a fat black american woman either so it is my fault yet here i am.

anyway it was worse than i imagined and their talk after (with chengren) was even worse. that's what i mean about making the lines their own (the actors) bc teng teng sounded like a straight up motherfucking moron and im like

bECAUSE IT'S HIM EVEN THO IM LIKE WHAT THE FUCK DID U JUST SAY U STUPID BITCH? but then it's like awwww and they also care about his wellbeing obviously??? but no? but it's like ok still teng teng said it even if it's stupid because he is a character and charles puts that forth. the people that fail the most to do that are xing si's family but that's not the actors fault because it's the literal material. you're like wait what but you just said...?

so i know they have no script editors i guess i think i find this season ACTUALLY fascinating because of just how egregious it is. i also went back and watched history: obsessed which i thought i liked because of their chemistry even though god the production....but i tried rewatching it and i was like wow this is worse than i remembered and the production issues were even worse because some of the music was SO LOUD AND BAD HOLY FUCK and their whole rship isssssss a sight to behold lmao

so man i guess it really is the power of anson/charles. which is good cos we love to see it...sort of but also a lot.

i honestly....because i've been able to pay attn more to the aftermath of the rape going back and putting it into more context and focusing (just barely lmao) is hm even worse. the inconsistencies are insane. it's not even just about the act but the writers have zero idea where they are going because they have no interest in exploring it. but the way in which it happens is like fascinating. yong jie literally thinks he owns xing si and it doesn't matter if he was kissing him or not or asked for a kiss on the lips (which dude what the fuck? i'll get to that) because he was plied with "extremely strong drinks" and his mom knew about it....which girl congrats you're an accomplice to the rape of your son by your other son?

but first of all...the kissing thing. in what fucking world would he (xing si) want that unless he thought he (yong jie) was someone else. i can't say their attraction is evident because we are being lead by this team to think so; they create this false sense of sensuality already so to me that signifies that they never intended for them to have a bond as brothers. it just feels cheap and fucking lazy (which it is.) even if he did, which doesn't make sense considering the context THEY CONSTRUCTED, it wouldn't matter because he was so fucking drunk which.... at that point nothing is fun, you feel sick, who wants sex like that? does he not have whiskey dick? did they have a condom? was it not painful for him considering? even if this was something to easily get over like was the dick good? it couldn't have been. and then, on top of that, there's the fact that you can change your mind or whatever but also that people do get aroused in these situations bc it is human nature (that's if they can literally get aroused which if the drinks were allegedly sooooo strong that nigga would be out so....again like even practically here it doesnt add up. have these people ever been drunk? if not, write what you know girl. cos sometimes it's like i think some of u r trying to be cool when u dont have 2 b lmao)

so yong jie coming on to him previously may be seen as like push-and-pull but here's the thing. right after it happens (the rape and it's rape so call it that you'll be okay) xing si gets up and goes home and is terrified and upset. he acts like what we have seen or even felt after a violation. he's scared, clutching his bag, it's like...you know...decently coming off as truly distressing (the actor isn't bad at all and i like that he's dark. i just massively hate this for him but hey at least he can show some chops.) like honestly man that fucking sucks and hurts to see. if we've been there we feel it. or part of it is realizing belatedly what happened. a lot of times that drop in your stomach is the worst.

but somehow for some reason, to which i cannot understand, the three of them begin to talk as if xing si pressured him? which maybe i missed something and that is possible—dont feel like going back to look—but that also made no sense. like what kind of false memory is this? why would he think he wasn't willing? and if he thought yong jie wasn't and that he pressured him how does he remember like...anything about the sex?!?!??!? besides waking up and being with him. like i guess he felt yong jie's MASSIVE DONG imprint but ??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!??!? MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!!!!!

god then the logic of the top/bottom thing is like i said i wasnt going to get into it but it's actually really funny. this whole thing was hilarious. honestly because I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT MEANS. he could have totally raped him in that way but how did you get to this CONCLUSION FROM THAT??????? BY YOUR LOGIC THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS? IF HE IS THE BOTTOM AND PENETRATION IS THE ONLY FORM OF TRUE CONSUMMATION AND RAPE BECAUSE APPARENTLY, BASED ON ANATOMY, IF YOU HAVE A DICK IN UR BUTT UR A GIRL THEN HOW. DOES. THIS. MAKE. SENSE. AND THEN

AND THEN

AND THEN

AND THEN

this whole stupid conversation happens so we get to the conclusion that xing si violated him ok cool but that means that something is wrong. that is the CONCLUSION WE CAME TO A SECOND AGO?

also the other rapist is a villain and muren isn't in love with him so, once again, you're breaking the rules of your own world about acceptability which is why most of this is absolutely mind bogggglinG that iit's fuckign comical. like i actually when i can stomach it start laughing or my jaw is slack because it's so insulting as a viewer because there is like 0 logical followthrough.

because whatshisface barges in, kisses him in front of his friends without permission, then says whether you were willing or not which is hm. at that point how u gonna change that around but let's not bother with logic here. i am simply here to point out how this makes no sense according to the rules they set up even outside of the basic rule of life which is hm dont rape people maybe.

so now we know xing si was raped, they believe he was raped, he himself believes he was raped, and whatshisface literally says he doesn't care even if he was willing (he wasn't) so he admits to rape. i don't believe in the police and i hate them (BL industry needs the cops but dont get me down that road) but no one...thought to go?

because according to history 4 logic nothing matters so im sure if he went to the police you could handwave the homophobia since there's no actual context for anything besides their whimsy. but they dont want to do that because they aren't interested in an arc of growth; redemption isn't possible unless he is removed from the family but again no work on thinking this through or thinking about the victim's feelings. because gay sex? who fucking knows. supposedly progressive taiwanese writers of gay shit (like how supposedly progressive the world is. as in it is not and this behavior is the norm and bl perpetuates that) can't think of transformative justice?

and then they gave bad advice so we wont acknowledge that because teng teng doing anything wrong/stupid is frequent but hurts me and also that storyline is not real so i pretend they are not there outside of this post

so all of this is just straihgt up clownery now because it's fucking absurd like logically, practically, human-wise. the kissing thing is inconsequential but it was such a lazy cheap way out lmao cos they really wanted it to seem consensual but that's not how it works. on top of that their attraction makes no sense because whatshisface is just there. he is just there. he's nothing and no one so the sentiments are even more empty and on top of that he doesnt listen to a single request fucking obviously because the basis of their relationship is fucking rape so fucking listening and respecting his partner is not on his list of fucking priorities. he's literally so fucking annoying even without being a rapist it's like someone please beat his ass.

and then after all of that you want us to feel bad? with your horrible writing, poorly misplaced music, stupid costumes (those fucking SHOES THEY ARE HIDEOUS, AND MOST OF THIER CLOTHES DO NOT FIT IT'S LIKE WHY), questionable fucking editing. we're supposed to wnat them together? this sounds literally fucking crazy but bear with me lmao even with the rape they could at least have SOMETHING i mean like i cant believe im fucking saaying this. but like in addicted heroin which is fuckin tragic and awful at least there's a MODICUM of interest but honestly that show s a fucknig drag. idk they lookd good together? here we have 0. nothing. and it doesnt motivate. watching obsessed again i can see why i liked it in the beginning bc they have good chemistry but the acting and production adn like everything about it plus the rape-y vibes it's just too much. you need to pick one thing so if you're going to be a shit writer at least supplement it with something. this thing is nothing.

and even more nonsensical and what boggles my mind frankly out of all this is the mother's involvement and the father's final response. there are NO consequences? theyre all happy?

ok so lets go through this:

1. 2 boys grow up 2gether, one of the boys is fucking psycho, the mother knows but does nothing??????????????

2. one of the sons moves out so his father doesn't get a hint that's he's fucking gay. ok fine. he has 2 best friends, a job, an apt. he is fine.

3. aforementioned brother is obsessed with him for SOME REASON besides being crazy?

3.5 no one has done anything during him growing up to help him not be crazy?

4. mom says to husband who is their father also just in case we forget "im afraid he will lose his humanity"

4.5 again, do nothing. 0. just like oh man hes crazy. guess that's just our son ;)

4. who cares. plies him with alcohol purposefully to rape him. not even dubious (even though dubious is fucked and not okay or is just not. fucking real. these shows are contextless when they want to be or even movies or whatever so it's like largely not up to the task to understand complexity in human rships and then oversimplifies it constantly because that's what we do IRL. but people have fucking feelings you know and we realize when things don't feel good or right to us either very quickly after or having to process it. and once you're eyes are opened you may feel as something was fucking ripped away from you. for the modc couple this would be a very logical conclusion for the high schooler the thirty year old dated but again logic or feelings are up to their whimsy. no one cares bc everything can be counted as dubious so honestly it's a fucking stupid fucking topic like again why are we litigating what is and isnt consent when you could just like idk. read cues? consent? wait? not be a freak? like we all know what is proper human shit so even if we are watching this uncritically which u cant bc it's glaring and stupid it's just even more dumb) so it was honestly a rape plot like he literally planned it soooooooooo??!?!

5. aftermath of rape the victim is like literally fucking bereft and confused. and a rape victim. like that's what they are insinuating and what also he is to be clear.

6. boy tells him "idc if i raped u i luv u lmao"

7. mom ENCOURAGED THE BOY to get him drunk because her other son was too nice? she encouraged her adult son to rape her adult step-son (but her real son because she repeatedly says you are my son and the dad does too THEY GREW UP TOGETHER WHEN THE KID WAS IN AN IMPRESSIONABLE STATE) so THIS ALSO MAKES EVEN LESS MOTHERFUCKING SENSE

8. everyone finds out about his rape and he isnt mortified he's just concerned about himself being gay to his dad?????? except it's not really about his gayness bc now it's about his sudden love for his rapist brother? which? hm ok. understandable the dad is like wow i do not think i like this

9. dad knows all of it is fucked up, everyone does, knows the mother fucked up, knows he fucked up. doesnt like it because he is normal. so we know this is terrible? ok great so—

10. father says "i can't accept this...but i'm willing to give you my blessing" ok see here's the thing. when you write you have to think about the things you are putting on the page and what you have written previously. this quite literally made no sense how the fuck are you going to not accept them but give them your blessing? does this crew know what the fuck words are? i'm assuming they went to some sort of school to obtain jobs here bc there cannot be natural talent or experience. maybe most of them are rich. fuck i do not know but this also makes no sense. just the literal logic of it it's like fucking insane the whiplash.

10.5 apparently this father is also shitty. everyone here sucks and they are basically begging me to think xing si is a fucking idiot so i dont even want to look at him if he is an object he doesnt matter so now i want to kick him. thanks a lot you made the victim get absolutely fucking nothing

they KEEP PUSHING the brother thing it is so insane and it's liek GUYS WE GET IT WE UNDERSTAND THEYRE "RELATED" BUT NOT RELATED SO IT'S OK HE WAS "RAPED" BUT NOT RAPED but you're GOING BACK ON YOUR OWN RULES!!!!!!!!!! WE GET THAT THEY ARE BROTHERS!!! WE'RE OVER IT NOW BUT WHAT IS THIS WHEN WE ALREADY ESTABLISHED SOMETHING? I AM CONFUSION? they flip flop between my son, my brother my actual brother, and cannot fucking distinguish between love for your father and love for your romantic partner? so to me what i see is that the father wants to fuck the son. that's the conclusion i am garnering now considering nothing matters and his love for his "brother" is the same as his love for his dad lmao. they couldnt even do that in a way that made sense. like damn anybody can get anything. these ppl who are doing this have to be fucking rich and/or have connections.

also this guy sounds literally like a textbook abuser like he says constantly "im the best choice" is a rapist is awful holds capital (oh hees "saving" smh ur trapping her!!!!! RETIRE!!!!) also wears terrible shoes so i am like ur alllllllllLLLLL FUCKING CRAZY ur all literally crazy and then they are trying to set rules and boundaries in their fucking house like WHY ARE THEY LIVING TOGETHER EVEN? even tho oh my god they know he raped him and for some reason they are both allowing to live in the house but they dont want them to have sex??!?!?!??!??!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?! i get that this is their house but this is like at this point these ppl are writing anything and now whatshisface is acting like a 2 yr old again and we are supposed to find this cute? like it makes 0 sense why do u fucking care u literally encouraged ur son to rape him so they cant have consensual sex under your nose now and have to wait four years? this is coming from the son who couldnt wait until someone was sober enough to realize hes fucking psychotic and should be killed also the fact that they act like being 20 means u have no fucking brain like this kid is in med school supposedly how do we know like hes a liar and an idiot so. also wait do they mean undergrad? how are you in med school at 20? is he a genius? girl i dont care lmao i guess i missed that but it's not like it matters so whatever

even if we ignore the stupidity of the literal acts, the grossness of the content, the absolute inability to write coherently or even remotely in a way where we would even want to see them together which is like....u set it up at the beginning so he punches "the love his life's best friend" also holy fuck im sorry remember when he punches muren because xing si got too drunk. so i'm guessing whatshisface is that good of a bartender that he makes super strong drinks and gets xing si drunk but his alcohol is magical therefore it doesn't make him sick. his alcohol is the type that gets you drunk but somehow doesnt get to your liver even though that's how we get drunk but dont ask guys he's only in med school and a bartender so i think he knows best (seriously have the main writers had a day of fun in their lives? have they ever been drunk? are they toddlers? drunk babies could probably do better tho.) i get that he was also jealous but if this kid is SOOOOOO genius (he understands social cues lmao he has the cpacity to project onto his victim so im like miss me with the not understanding shit. go to a fucking therapist like seriously did no one care abt this kid? his mother thinks he's like almost a goddamn murderer. how is she not dead? how are they all not dead? how do any of them know how to drive with this type of brain?) then he would understand that they are very clearly friends since he watched them part in a very platonic way and since he apparently knows what love is cos he thinks....he can....make someone fall in love with him bc he loves them? again, i wouldnt know hes 20 and taiwanese and im 29 and black from AMERICA so im WESTERN* so you know. different life experiences i guess XD

even if we do mental gymnastics to get it to a place where they "had sex" and he didnt rape him there's 0 ZERO ZERO ZERO ZERO ties to the literal story they wrote and the rules they set up. i'm going ot assume they dont know wtf theyre doing and i know for a fact we all care more about their dumb show than they do but it's actually startling how piss poor this is it's like idek what to compare it to. the continuity is awful awful awful they needed a script supervisor majorly and they are making bank and are going to make fucking bank fof this shit. and itll just continue like that until IRL material changes and that's facilitated by these very same groups they choose to profit off of and exploit by propelling it into the mainstream and litigating homosexuality through capitalism. and i'm being specific with homosexuality. i dont want a GL market like at all and i know why we wouldnt have it either and that has everything to do with the nature of BL, capitalism, coercion, and the fanbase being young girls and women. i don't think in this day and age we can safely say all the fans are straight; i'm sure a majority but many women or people on the gender spectrum and sexuality spectrum also consume it. frankly, it's possible the women who write it could be or something too. i dont rly believe any1 is str8 lmao but im just saying it's not out of the realm of possibility. but it isnt about that at all. that's why we wont see "good" female characters (like well written) often that's why we won't see trans women or kathoeys or fat people or black asians in it. a lot of it is is a choice we participate in whatever. but holy fuck dude u could at least respect the audience's fucking intelligence. i'm talking about everything i think that is encapsulated in the project but it's even more jarring and worse because it's so insanely inconsistent and poorly done. like how we jump from one conclusion to another is wild to me. even their first "night together" and he wakes up im like girl....u no ur ass felt it. this nigga broke into his house and was like "im gonna have u" like it's getting weird

just make xing si suffer offscreen not us the stupidity is staggering, mind blowing, hilarious.

how wong kar wai, a straight man from HK (or at least married to a woman), or barry jenkins, a striahgt black man, write/do stories well about people they wouldnt knw about their experiences directly is....well thinking like using their brains and like knowing all types of people? the man who co-wrote moonlight is a hOMOSEXUAL, leslie cheung was fucking gay or queer (and he committed suicide and that's important also RIP homie) both are hailed as queer cinema like WKW wanted to do something else and invested time into it, changed the way he played around with structure, moved away from his crime oriented stuff. he THOUGHT about it and this film is about their reality. it's a harsh film, idk how i feel about it (but my fav movies of his are the crime ones or the messy ones where it's clear he didnt write a script lmao fallen angels is one of my fav movies its' abt assassins kinda) but i know it means something. and he didnt like what HK had previously wasnt enough. it is not the only cinema that should be shown since it's such a stark reality and depressing but it is a real depiction so we can have all sorts of stuff. no this isnt WKW level or moonlight level but i know for a fact these people think they are doing something because artists always do i say this as one and someone who is equally as useless. you're making a statement.

i also hate the westerner component of peoples analyses. first of all dont do cultural relativism. we can critique and respect. but second of all how are we going to keep saying "dont put western ideals on this" when that is what is happening anyway because that's part and parcel for soft power and capitalism. how about taiwan's history with the KMT? what about the regimes young people fought about? aided by US imperialism which permeates through society and affects material conditions, views, democracy, identity and that goes into culture and media. hm? what about that? is that reality too fucking western for people? that we are doing the same thing again now? is that okay to talk about or is that only on your time?

then there's the argument that this is just entertainment. yea no shit but the thing is if we r gonna talk about marginalized groups and watch bc of marginalized groups and then be expected to identify then i dont see why i cant put this in context. even if it wasnt fucking serious we'd still judge it. but it's so pompous and again like i wouldnt say EYE think it's art but it is "art" in the literal sense and no self respecting artist would ever go "man this means nothing." of course im not sure if they do respect themselves so hey but u cant just go oh man it's entertainment when it literally rests on the fact that HOMOS are MARGINALIZED. it literally rests on the fact that WOMEN ARE OBJECTS. you either want progress or you dont. i dont understand being so demanding but not beign specific in the demands and not trying to use your brain. if you dont want to use your brain don't. but if you are looking , engaging, and keep making these arguments or telling ppl it doesnt matter whilst complaining about how much others care is hypocritical at best, willfully obtuse at worst. both bad. :)

(also all this + another thing; it is insulting to have this like wedding happen based off of this stupid relationship when people fought so hard and had to push it. now they can use the material conditions to their advantage but it's so ridiculous. also because there is difficulty still in getting married in taiwan i'm honestly like....the boldness of the writers...)

[tarredion]

2020 fic roundup

hiii! i was going to do this earlier but,, um,, i posted three fics in the final two hours of 2020 year (for me) so :D here is finally my fic roundup - in order from newest to oldest

i’ll be using the original summaries, wordcounts n ratings etc, some of the tags, link to the tumblr post and the ao3 link, and maybe add a note or two if i feel that’s not enough

this’ll be a long post so read below the cut 

(or go directly to my ao3 here especially in case you don’t want spoilers)

Fireworks up above

g, 341

NYE, established relationship, husbands, tooth-rotting fluff, kissing

Husbands Dan and Phil and their placeholder-apartment share a final NYE moment (aka 2020 NYE)

ao3 // tumblr

Quiet morning

g, 304

tooth-rotting fluff, lazy mornings, sleepy cuddles, established relationship, husbands, forever home

Dan wakes up in the forever home, Phil breathing softly next to him…

ao3 // tumblr

Shadows / nocturne / parting clouds

g, 2.7k

hurt/comfort, migraine, arguing, angst with a fluffy ending, established relationship, ii tour fic, alternating and outsider pov

Phil wakes up with a migraine, causing him to snap at Dan. Throughout the day, while visiting a city for the ii tour, Cornelia observes the tension, and eventually, the two of them console

ao3 // tumblr

A tub fit for two

t, 853

dnp, forever home, established relationship, husbands, fluff, bathing/washing, and more

there are certain perks that come with building your own (forever) house

ao3 // tumblr

Signals

m, 1.6k

texting, established relationship, food, domestic fluff, very light angst, sexual content

excerpts of dan and phil’s texts throughout the years

ao3 // tumblr

At the turn of a page

g, 1.2k

liveshow, 2020-ish, fluff, established relationship, forever home

Phil’s had his reasons for not continuing liveshows during lockdown, but they’re ready for a comeback—a domestic one, at that

ao3 // tumblr

Prickle on the skin, ache in the heart

t, 1.4k

2014, closeted relationship, bbc party, alcohol, vomiting, self confidence issues, jealousy, angst then fluff, happy ending

phil smiles wider, brighter. every day. every day, dan falls in love again. he can’t help but be a little jealous, not being able to say

ao3 // tumblr

It’s home

t, 2.2k

au ice-cream parlor, established relationship, pure fluff, slice of life

A day in the life of Dan and his smitten ice-cream vendor boyfriend Phil, living on the coast of Connemara, Ireland

ao3 // tumblr

Whisper of the heart

g, 976

established relationship, headaches & migraines, hurt/comfort, fluff, piano

Phil has a headache. Dan plays the piano and comforts him.

ao3 // tumblr

Slice of cake

e, 2.7k

established relationship, bday sex, 2016, face-sitting, rimming

Dan’s promised to celebrate Phil with nothing but the best this year.

Naturally, he buys himself a new skirt - but it’s not just to wear.

ao3 // tumblr

Supple thirty-two

this is a chaptered wip !! it’ll continue in 2021 (the update note is currently inaccurate)

-

3/32

t, 4k so far

slow burn, friends to lovers, love letters, secret admirer, fluff and angst, internalized homophobia, outing, coming out, queer themes, happy ending

A secret admirer sends flowers and letters to Dan over the years

ao3 // tumblr

Tenderhearted

g, 1k

2009, comfort/angst, sad but sweet, sleepy cuddles, separation anxiety

Phil doesn’t want Dan to go home. Dan agrees. Quite strongly, actually.

Feeling properly loved for the first time causes serious separation anxiety.

ao3 // tumblr

I’d marry you (with paper rings)

m, 4k

established relationship, fluff, domestic, proposal, sexual content

Maybe learning calligraphy was of greater importance to Phil, and them, than Dan first thought

ao3 // tumblr

Blue can be kind, too

this is my favourite fic of the ones i’ve written !! so far. it’s from the pov of kid dan so very tender and mostly very childish / undeveloped in the language, as if actually told from his brain (even though it’s third person)

-

g, 4k

kid!fic, dan and phil are kids, kindergarten, developing friendship, past violence and bullying, referenced homophobia, fluff and angst, sad and happy, happy ending

A tale of being scared, starting fresh, and making your first ever friends after experiencing violent bullying.

Or rather, four-year-old Dan’s first day at his new kindergarten.

ao3 // tumblr

Ablaze

e, 4k

established relationship, spanking, daddy kink, oral, aftercare

Phil’s trying to work; Dan’s being a brat. Things get heated, but not in a bad way.

ao3 // tumblr

The brightest shade of sun (I had ever seen)

g, 3.9k

friends to lovers, getting together, only one bed

one dawn on the isle of man can be enough to unite two craving hearts, even if a lot of heartbreaking thoughts are revealed along the way

ao3 // tumblr

Tracing constellations

t, 1.3k

established relationship, sleepy cuddles, fluff, banter, kissing

Two 6-foot men cuddling in a single armchair doesn’t sound like a good idea.

It isn’t, but dan and phil do almost anything for intimacy…

ao3 // tumblr

Between the seams

g, 999

established relationship, cuddling, fluff, fear, hurt/comfort

Bone-tired lovers meet thundering downpour, rediscovering the best way to confront fear in the meantime

ao3 // tumblr

Fjäll med stjärnor

this one is also a chaptered wip !! it’ll also be continuing in 2021, and probably beyond bcs it might be even longer than that

-

2/?

g, 9k so far

fantasy, magic, kinda historical fantasy, dan’s a dragon, and Phil’s human (at first), strangers to friends to lovers (eventually), fluff and angst, lots of descriptions

a human’s and a dragon’s paths crossing is unusual, but in this case it was in alignment with the stars and a decision as old as time itself  

ao3 // tumblr

It’s not a date?

chaptered wip to continue into 2021 too

-

2/4

t, 4.6k so far

there’s only one bed, bodyswap, didn’t know they were dating, friends to lovers, getting together, idiots in love, tatinof

On one hand, it should all go flawlessly. When Phil goes on tour with his boyfriend of six years, Dan, he books them rooms with only one bed. He’s not deterred by their quiet and nonsexual (monogamous) lovelife. They do things ‘normal’ couples do, just maybe not as often or intimately. He supposes Dan’s just taking it slow, trying to come to terms with his sexuality and so on. It’s okay.

On the other… Dan doesn’t know they are dating. He has a longtime crush on Phil that he thinks is unrequited, despite their mutual rather romantic and domestic behavior.

ao3 // tumblr

Fur-ever

g, 3.5k

tooth-rotting fluff, dog owners/dads, dog wedding, established relationship, alternate universe - different first meeting, howells and lesters

Dog dads Dan and Phil marry their dogs, in preparation for their own big day

ao3 // tumblr

The maestro and his muse

chaptered but completed!

-

4/4

e, 5.5k

friends to lovers, mutual pining, body painting, teasing, sexual content

Phil is a professional artist. He’s always wanted to try body painting, and now he gets to, for a naked photoshoot. Unfortunately, his good friend, muse, and crush Dan Howell is his model of choice. What could go wrong?

ao3 // tumblr

Lightyear groovin’

t, 4.6k

star wars setting,  dj Phil, waiter Dan, mutual pining, friends to lovers

In a galaxy far, far away, there’s an abundance of 70s clubs. On Krithoo, local party freak Dan Howell works as a waiter at an often overcrowded cantina, Virgo Volans. And maybe, just maybe, he has an infatuation with the extraterrestrial dj frequenting their stage…

ao3 // tumblr

A theism in evolution

g, 5.9k

gods au, enemies to friends to lovers, getting together, fluff and angst, emotional h/c, written entirely in letters, 1st person pov

The sungod, Phil, sends letters to Mother Gaia. He puts all his worries into words… even when he himself can’t see right through them

ao3 // tumblr

Little comfort card

g, 932

separation anxiety, established relationship, business trip, vidcon, fluff and angst, homesickness, comfort, post-coming out videos

Phil goes to VidCon alone. Cue separation anxiety, something Dan seems to have accounted for..

"The whole room felt too airy, and lacked that simple, aesthetic Dan-touch. It wasn’t quite home, so to speak."

ao3

Your hoodies (come wrapped around me)

g, 869

york hoodie, clothes sharing, fluff, moving, house cleaning

Unpacking for their move into bigger quarters, Dan finds an ancient treasure in the back of their conjoined closet.

ao3 // tumblr

Awestruck

g, 996

barista dan, youtuber phil, fanboy dan, crushes, getting together, strangers to lovers

Dan might meet his best customer at the end of his worst day, and get a little more

ao3 // tumblr

Rainbow, proud

g, 513

post-coming out videos, established relationship, domestic boyfriends, fluff, shopping

Phil really wants the corgi shirt, but Dan thinks he has enough already

ao3 // tumblr

A prickly considerate gift

it’s the piranha plant bouquet !!

-

g, 1k

2014, established relationship, Valentines day fluff, gift giving, flowers and language of flowers, brief depression mention, domestic fluff, nerdiness

Phil finds a substitute for real Valentine’s day flowers

ao3 // tumblr

Cherish the smile

g, 783

husbands, honeymoon, established relationship, fluff

Phil wakes on the first morning of their honeymoon; a new day to cherish Dan’s gorgeous, excited, smile

ao3 // tumblr

“Seriously?”

t, 3k

strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers sort of, getting together, angst with a happy ending, co-workers, non-youtuber au, and lots of other tags lmao

Prompt: Dan and Phil meet while candle shopping and one of them can't help but comment on how obnoxious/boring/etc the scents the other one is picking out are the time Phil met a totally-not-handsome stranger and only sort-of wished they'd never meet again. Tough luck?

ao3

The lovers (VI)

chaptered, completed !

-

14/14

m, 31k

friends to lovers, magical realism au, lots of angst but also fluff, happy ending (more important tags on ao3)

Dan, guardian of the forest, feels inadequate to love and of love. His best friend Phil loves him despite that.. but doesn’t know quite what to do when Dan becomes a hypocrite- playing with both their feelings

ao3 // tumblr

Colour me rosé

another chaptered wip !! though this one may not be finished in 2021, because i have so much on my plate then - enjoy what’s here though !

-

9/?

m, 13k so far

sugar daddy Phil, sugar baby Dan, phil is rich, eventually domestic, strangers to lovers, developing relationship and friendship, sexual content, fluff, a little angst, and like a lot lot more tags

nineteen-year-old Dan Howell is looking for a sugar daddy to help him achieve the dream of luxury and romantic affirmations. Phil Lester, newly 24 and very rich, is searching for a romantic and sexual relationship. When stumbling upon the other on the internet, similar interests and all, have they found their match?

ao3 // tumblr

Archaic Allure (sonnet)

so as it turns out, writing a fic idea can really help you out with your grade (and yes, this is actually a sonnet)

-

g, 104

poetry, reminiscing, fluff, Dan’s pov

Dan reminisces his love for Phil - sonnet version

ao3 // tumblr

Something in your name

t, 3.2k

implied sexual content, fanfic about fanfic, emotional hurt/comfort, separation anxiety, established relationship; and more

phil reads a y/n fic ; guess who wrote it

ao3 // tumblr

Ellie enchanted

g, 986

fluff and angst, happy ending, parent!phan, new child, adoption, established relationship, self-doubt, implied homophobia 

Dan and Phil pick up their adopted child

ao3 // tumblr

Chocolate swirls

g, 3.3k

parent!phan, snapshots, bday surprises, baking, fluff and angst, cake

Dan tries to surprise Phil for his 33rd. He fails, as humans do, but ten years later he has luckily got two adorable little helpers at his side. And maybe that makes everything just a little better.

ao3 // tumblr

Dan or Da?

on ao3 this fic is just called Da, so beware of that

-

t, 9k

parent!phan, friends to lovers, pretend relationship (not what you think), misunderstanding, getting together, implied sexual content, marriage, canon divergence, pov alternating

One day can change your life forever. For Phil, his daughter Mel, and Dan, who’d have guessed that day would be one when all they’ve planned is doing ordinary shopping together.

ao3 // tumblr

and that’s it!! thank you for reading this sweetums, and be sure to check out any of the fics

[shieldwinter]

Stucky Fic Rec [Part Three]

Part Three of the fic rec coming at you! Sorry for it coming so late in the day - I was finishing up reading a fic that I wanted to add to this part!  I do only add fics that I’ve read, and enjoyed, to this rec so (once again) there will be few, if any, ABO and Shrinkyclink fics!  As always; I will provide the Google Doc link where I update the rec regularly, but if you’d prefer it formatted here on tumblr, it is under the cut! If you want to recommend fics, go for it!

Google Doc Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/10wqr5s-CzkFzLidQgt-y4-cjudHWwVeVPWCedMjK7t0/edit

Don’t Leave Me Asunder

        Word Count: 31.1k         Rating: Teen and Up         Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Veteran!Bucky, Amputee!Bucky         Warnings: None         Synopsis: Like many other war veterans, Bucky Barnes is alone. He doesn't talk to his family, he has no friends and his only human interactions are with his cleaning crew from Avengers Tower. Plagued by nightmares and pain, he lives each day in isolation. Until the Avengers bring their fight at home and Bucky gets to meet the famous Captain America. To his surprise, both their lives change forever after that.

Far Strayed

       Word Count: 18.3k        Rating: Mature        Notable Tags: Post CACW, Pre Infinity War        Warnings: None        Synopsis:  “They’re not going to stop coming after me,” Bucky tells Steve, somewhere in the air above Siberia. “Let them come,” Steve replies, furious still.  After Siberia, instead of seeking refuge in Wakanda, Bucky and Steve go on the run.

All My Chances Again

         Word Count: 20.6k          Rating: Explicit          Notable Tags: Time Travel, Endgame Fix-It          Warnings: Smut          Synopsis: I love him, Steve thinks into the spiraling ether; I love him; let me tell him. Give me the chance to set that one thing right. If I can’t rest for saving him, let me give him all of me and hope that it’s enough. Or; Steve gets lost in the time matrix, and begs for an out. Seems confession is good for the soul—or so he hopes.

I, Barnes 

        Word Count: 76.7k         Rating: Explicit         Notable Tags: Bi!Steve, Bi!Bucky, Period-Typical Homophobia         Warnings: Heavy Smut, Talk of Suicide, Non-Consenual Vouyerism, Panic Attacks          Synopsis: When Steve finally finds Bucky and brings him home to New York, their reunion doesn't go as planned. Bucky disappears into the bowels of the tower, avoiding Steve at all costs. Bucky believes himself to be broken beyond repair, unworthy of any contact with Steve Rogers. But having finally gotten a taste of being around Steve again, Bucky can't just leave - he needs Steve. In ways he believes prove he's a monster unfit to live.

If Steve Rogers Were Your Boyfriend 

          Word Count: 70.2k           Rating: Mature           Notable Tags: Cafe!AU, Barista!Steve, Author!Bucky           Warnings: Abusive Relationship (not Steve and Bucky)            Synopsis: When he's not editing a magazine he truly loathes or navigating a rocky relationship he truly doesn't deserve, Bucky Barnes writes a fantasy romance column with an unexpectedly loyal internet following about the barista at his favorite cafe. Barista Boyfriend makes these other worlds bearable, but the real world dreamboat isn’t remotely involved; Steve Rogers is just a muse. Everyone loves the column. And it definitely isn’t killing Bucky very gently in 500 word increments, not in the slightest. What kind of a writer can't keep fact and fiction straight? James Fuckin' Barnes, that's who.

Love Me Tender

          Word Count: 13.1k           Rating: Teen and Up           Notable Tags: Canon Divergence            Warnings: None           Synopsis: Steve is captured by Hydra, who for lack of any other containment options, activate the Winter Soldier and order the man to "take care of Captain America". They really should have been more specific. - OR: Taking care of Captain America is a task that the Soldier's body seems to remember how to do, even if he doesn't understand why.

Falling Back on Forever 

          Word Count: 24k           Rating: Explicit            Notable Tags: Revenge Road Trip, Identity Porn           Warnings: Smut           Synopsis: Bucky falls from the train in 1945. Steve jumps right after him. The Winter Soldier and the Midnight Patriot are the world's most feared duo, serving HYDRA and leaving a trail of bodies a mile wide behind them. But then they remember.

Wishes and Words

         Word Count: 48.2k          Rating: Explicit          Notable Tags: Fantasy!AU, Prince!Steve          Warnings: Smut, Past Torture          Synopsis: Life is going great until the day Bucky Barnes finds Crown Prince Steven Grant bleeding out on his lands. Then it only gets better.

How Bucky Barnes Won His Second Pulitzer

         Word Count: 11.6k          Rating: General Audience          Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Protective Steve          Warnings: None          Synopsis:  It isn’t like him and Steve go out frequently. Sometimes he’ll stop by Bucky’s apartment and they’ll binge watch tv shows, or Steve will tell him stories from ‘back in the day’. They’ve only gone out in public two or three times and it was merely quick runs to get coffee, or more popcorn.  So Bucky really doesn’t understand where this Hydra asshole is coming from when he says: “The reason we took you is because we know the Captain will come running right into our trap.” (aka: bucky is an award winning journalist who really doesn't appreciate being used as bait for a beefed up, spandex-clad super soldier.)

Maybe This Christmas

          Word Count: 24.8k           Rating: Teen and Up           Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Christmas           Warnings: None           Synopsis: Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.

6 Avenue Local

         Word Count: 10.6k          Rating: Teen and Up          Notable Tags: No Powers!AU, Veteran!Bucky, Graphic Designer!Steve          Warnings: None          Synopsis: It takes a moment for Steve to add up the features on the man in front of him: those blue-grey eyes, a cleft chin, high cheekbones. Sure, he's older, dirtier, taller, but there's only one person Steve knew who looked like that. "Bucky?" he asks. "Bucky Barnes?" It's been so long since he's said that name out loud. "Yeah, I..." Bucky pauses. "Oh fuck," he says. "I missed my stop." Steve smiles. “Wanna get a burger?” he asks, noting the happy coincidence that Bucky Barnes, of all the people in New York, fell asleep in the same subway car that Steve would walk into, and missed his stop. “Sure,” Bucky says with a shrug. “I could eat.”

Kingdom Come

          Word Count: 8.2k           Rating: Teen and Up           Notable Tags: Missions Gone Wrong, Angst w/ Happy Ending           Warnings: Near Death Experience           Synopsis: “It’s too late, Steve,” Bucky’s voice across the comm is flat, layered with static. “The deadlock’s irreversible. S’the only way.” Steve knows what nearly dying feels like; knows it better than most, and this—those words, that voice, this impossible burning that courses through him like the serum in reverse, this. This is so much worse than nearly.

Just Me, You, and These Shitty Cigarettes

        Word Count: 39.8k         Rating: Explicit         Notable Tags: Modern!AU, Veteran!Bucky, Barista!Bucky, Artist!Steve         Warnings: Smut, Dubious Consent         Synopsis: Steve Rogers is pretty sure Natasha's new roommate is trying to kill him. Which he wouldn't mind considering he's been helplessly in love with him since they were thirteen.

Where All Roads Lead

        Word Count: 46.1k         Rating: Explicit         Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Time Travel, Historian!Bucky         Warnings: Smut         Synopsis: When Steve Rogers inadvertently touches a relic in the course of a mission gone sideways during WWII, he’s catapulted seventy years into the future. Before he's even sure where he's ended up, his search for help puts him in contact with Bucky Barnes, a historian and college professor who has built a career around studying Captain America. With Bucky's help, Steve means to find out how exactly he ended up in 2017, and solve the bigger mystery of how to get home. There's just one problem. The closer they get to their goal, the less certain Steve is that he wants to go home.

Énoument

         Word Count: 77.9k          Rating: Mature          Notable Tags: Shrunkyclunks, Meet-Cute          Warnings: Smut          Synopsis: When Steve first met Sergeant James Barnes during the New York invasion, he flipped Steve off for calling him a civilian, then roundhouse kicked an alien in the face. They haven't stopped talking to each other ever since, and Steve thought it was normal for him to latch onto the first person who befriended him after coming out of the ice. Nope, turns out he was just pining.

Closed Book

         Word Count: 38.8k          Rating: Explicit          Notable Tags: Amnesia          Warnings: Smut          Synopsis: Bucky woke up with a headache, a mouth that tasted like something had died in it, and hands-down, swear-to-god, the most beautiful man he had ever seen asleep in his lap. Bucky was also, he realized after a moment, strapped down to a hospital bed with about six different monitors making unsynced, equally piercing, beeps. Beyond that he couldn’t quite see—there was a hideous floral curtain pulled around the bed, and while he could just make out figures moving in the room beyond it, the pattern made his head pound even worse the longer he looked at it. So. That was concerning.

[wangxiangiftexchange]

Lunar New Year Gift for vedrividia!

Pairing: Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji; past Wei Wuxian/Other (implied) Rating: Mature Warnings: brief depiction of sexual harassment, brief instance of misgendering, implied/referenced past suicide attempt, implied/referenced past sexual assault (off-screen), implied/referenced past forced pregnancy (off screen), implied/referenced underage sex & pregnancy (off-screen), alcoholism, coming out, implied/referenced homophobia Other Tags: trans male character, disabled character, gay male character, open ending, unreliable narrator, angst, tender, chance meeting, confession, reunion, character with incomplete spinal cord injury, iSCI, it probably sounds darker than it is

Summary: On the last eve before spring Wei Ying finds himself at the end of a road. What awaits him on the other side depends on the steps he takes to cross it. Someone walks beside him.

Disclaimer: I am neither Chinese, trans nor disabled. All of the portrayal in this fic is based on research. It's not my intent to offend and I'm open to critique as long as it's respectful and constructive. Wei Ying's journey is his own and does not represent all of the disabled or trans community. The fic is set in a world that closely resembles ours, but where corona never happened and maybe China's laws are just a little less restrictive (but still very phobic), so bear that in mind. I do not own any of the characters.

Notes - Beginning: The idea of trans male Wei Ying had been stuck in my head for a while now, and I've been wanting to try my hand at a trans story, because I've never done that before. This assignment was an opening to do that in a darker, more serious setting. I have also wanted to explore Wei Ying's suicidal issues while translating his story into a modern setting for some time (it was supposed to be a coffee shop AU, only the coffee shop never appeared hah). It was simultaneously hard and fun to write, and I'm grateful for it. @vedrividia​, I hope you like it!

In the past I didn't feel like I could do a good job at representing anyone of an identity I couldn't quite empathize with. Since then I've surrounded myself with trans inclusive media, and followed transgender blogs and channels, and I hope that this fic does right by all of them.

I am aware of some of the potentially problematic topics, but I also didn't want to ignore all the challenges and abuse and trauma that trans folk are forced to endure on a daily basis. (Did you know that trans people have some of the highest suicide rates, and likely to have alcohol issues? Making everyone happy and nothing hurt felt all kinds of wrong knowing that.) I believe that representing both - an ideal world alongside the real and flawed one - is important.

Positive stories are also important - this is one. Or at least I hope I was able to make it one.

On a more cheerful note, there are pictures that served as an inspiration for this story, namely this photoset (especially the pic in the leather jacket, the one on the couch and the close up) done in faceapp by a genius, this brain-frying picture, and of course this picture from the Harper's Bazaar Photoshoot that none of us are over. I completely blame Xiao Zhan's androgyny.

Last but not least, I owe a massive thanks to Laura for the amazing beta they did on a rather short notice and brought this fic to another level. Thank you for your hard work!!! :)

End notes: Wei Ying has an incomplete spinal cord injury in the lumbar area (at L1 or L2). I didn't realize that I played myself when I gave him an incomplete injury, because the lack of references and information is in terms of quantity a total opposite to everything available on complete SCI. Which in turn made the telling of such a story feel even more important. If any of you know of a good resource for the daily life of people with iSCI, I'm all ears.

Even researching the walking aides was a challenge, since most information is on wheelchair dependent people, which Wei Ying is not. He has a wheelchair but he refuses to use it, for several reasons, one of them being image, another being worry of atrophy. He likes a good walk, and there's progress thanks to physical therapy, most of which is covered by insurance. I was debating an exoskeleton/brace for him, but from what I gathered they aren't really useful for SCI (I welcome any additional info about this), and those that would be cost a ton and aren't covered by insurance - which is a big factor for Wei Ying. The toss ended up being between forearm crutches and a walking frame, but in the end I decided on crutches, because it seemed like Wei Ying would prefer them? For now? With crutches he can pretend, and I also didn't know to what extent a walking frame would be insurance covered (in China), and whether he'd be at a point where he would accept one. (I imagine the simple ones would be covered by insurance, the question is whether they make a huge difference to crutches, and whether a rollator - with wheels and a seat is something that would count as 'necessary' in this case.)

However, once again, I am not adequately educated on all that goes into the decision making here. No one ever mentions things like these in success stories. In the end I left it as a room for future development. I'm pretty sure Wen Qing is trying to convince him to get one.

I was debating whether to tag dysphoria. While it is not explicitly stated in the fic, Wei Ying does experience it, although this has gotten better since he realized being trans, came out and started testosterone. His decision to not transition fully is one that many trans people make at a point in their lives, for any number of reasons. This does not mean he'll never change his mind, or won't explore other forms of expression. It's a choice that the current Wei Ying is making, completely independent of future Wei Ying.

It's possible in China to get a gender confirmation surgery, but the requirements sound like a nightmare. The first thing you have to do is get diagnosed with 'gender disorder', be five years in (unsuccessful) therapy for it, at least 20 and unmarried. If he decides to transition fully to a male presenting body he can only marry someone who is biologically female in the future, under Chinese law. (Imagine having to divorce your significant other in order to be who you are. Imagine having to make this decision. It makes me want to write fic about it.)

It also costs a ton, as none of it is covered by insurance. You can only start hormone therapy in order to get surgery, which leads a lot of trans people to acquire hormones illegally and without medical counseling. I purposefully did not decide where Wei Ying gets his T from. I didn't want him to not have it, but I left the how undecided. For the most part I headcanon it as one of the things that make my world a little different, since hormone therapy is a thing that exists outside of transitioning as well. E.g. many female athletes use testosterone to boost their performance, and many other women take it for various medical reasons. I feel like WWX could find ways to acquire some. Now, whether this would be legal or not is left open.

By the way? Never, EVER deadname. Just don't. The moment someone comes out to you as trans, tells you their pronouns and name, that's what you use. You forget everything that came prior to that, wipe it out of your memory, it's ashes on the sands of time unless stated otherwise BY THEM, got it?

Now, Wei Ying's case. I was hesitant about how to approach this, but from the start I knew two things. I wanted the same kind of intimacy of WWX & LWJ calling each other by their birth names as in canon, but I also didn't want to go the way most authors go in this case i.e. splitting the names to pre- and post- transition. It is my understanding that most Chinese names are unisex (if anyone has more info on this, I'd love to have it), or can be used for all genders, and I didn't want to force a gender issue where there wasn't one. However, I also wanted something parallel that could be used in a similar way. What I came up with is what you see in text. While Wei Ying did change his name, the only reason why it's still somewhat okay to use 'Wuxian' is because he explicitly says he likes it. In fact, in my head somewhere in the imagined future of this verse, he and JFM have a conversation about it where JFM tells him if he wants it, it can still be his name - he didn't give it to an image, but a person. IDK how well any of this works, or translates to actual trans or Chinese (or trans and Chinese) people, so if you have words for me, let me know.

On a side note, in 2015 China lifted the one-child policy in favor of a two-child policy. A-Yuan was born in 2017.

Wei Ying attempted suicide between the 4th and 8th week of his pregnancy. During the early weeks the probability of a fetus surviving a major fall (even a fall from stairs) is significantly higher than later in the pregnancy, and the scaffolding he jumped from wasn't actually that high. I'm also considering that there might have been something to cushion the fall that he hadn't noticed (a stray rope, or a net) or been aware of (like padding on the stage), but that's a detail I decided to leave to your imagination. On the other hand, sustaining a SCI during early pregnancy is likely to have fatal consequences, as I found out a week before the deadline. In the end, they both got very lucky. Wei Ying spent the next 3 months in a coma. When he woke up it was too late to terminate. Jiang Fengmian had been adamant that the decision not be made without Wei Ying's consent, which was nice of him, but also ended up making the decision for Wei Ying regardless.

Last but not least, if you've read this and feel like you have something to add, I love any kind of comments, whether you wanna review the fic, have some useful information for me, would like to discuss a point or just like to say hi! :)

*****

Transverse

If asked, Wei Ying wouldn't have remembered how he had gotten to the bar. He didn't remember taking a different route on the short walk back home, he hadn't even been aware there was a bar in the first place. He only remembered suddenly standing in front of it, aching to his bones, limbs leaden with a familiar exhaustion, morose and longing for nothing more than a little break. His back was on fire, his leg was throbbing, the skin underneath his binder wouldn’t stop itching and to top it off his stomach had been cramping in a way it wasn't supposed to anymore. His body had decided to give him a wonderful gift for the holiday. Wei Ying wouldn't wish this on his worst enemy, and that spoke volumes to anyone who knew who occupied that position.

Needless to say, he was desperate for a drink.

The bar was almost empty so early in the afternoon, and shortly before the holiday, all the regulars had likely gone home to see their families. It was the time of reunions, the golden week of spring knocking on the door. The whole town looked empty, seemingly asleep and abuzz at the same time, a strange kind of liminal space born in the atmosphere of the coming celebrations, quiet with contained impatience. He had been painfully aware of it the entire week, the turning of another year leaving him nothing to do but watch people go where Wei Ying couldn't return anymore.

The Lunar New Year always made him hurt worse than usual, in more ways than purely physical. Wei Ying had felt that strange air peak today, even in the confines of his tiny office at the back of the Pacific Coffee branch he had been working at for a little over two months. It was a tiny thing on the busiest street of their small town, smelling of comfort in the wee hours of the morning and of salvation late in the evening. The staff had needed support with handling the supply chain, so that they could focus on serving the staggering amount of customers that came in all day.

It had seemed perfect when Wei Ying had first limped inside on his forearm crutches, with a letter of recommendation, feeling smaller than an ant but significantly less tough. The reintegration program had been a lifeline thrown to a drowning man when he had first heard about it. It had been the opportunity to restart his life. Earn an income. Be independent. In time maybe even repay his friends for the kindness they had shown when he had nowhere to go. Now? Now he wasn't sure that he'd still have a job after the holiday was over.

"This really can't go on," his boss had said, midway through the most gruesome shift the shop had ever witnessed. "Half the supplies came in wrong, for the third time this week!"

Sometimes, Wei Ying wondered why he still bothered. He could probably survive on aid and love for himself, and the Wens made enough to take care of the rest. It just… It could have been nice. To be the one to take care of the people he cared about, for a change.

He really needed that drink.

The whiskey looked enticing from where he was half-sitting, half-leaning on a stool, crutches stashed between his legs. He could almost taste it, the phantom of the sharp flavor burning his tongue.

"Hi, darling." An unfamiliar voice startled him out of his thoughts, causing him to tense. He had been aware of the middle-aged man at the counter, but he hadn't been paying him much attention until now. "Can I buy you a drink? How about Sex on the Beach?"

It was difficult to control himself at that tasteless, juvenile joke. Wei Ying could almost taste the bile rising in his throat and the beginnings of what would no doubt become a pounding headache throbbing in his temples. Great. Just what he had needed.

The whiskey bottle called out to him again, beckoning him to the bitter burn.

A drink. That was what he needed - a drink.

Do you really? Need it? The voice of his therapist came to his mind, sudden and uninvited.

"Hey bartender!" The man called out in the most unwelcome case of accidental telepathy in the history of mankind, sneaking one arm around Wei Ying’s waist, a sweaty hand settling on his hip. "One Sex on the Beach for the miss, on my tab!"

There was the rising bile again, tension squeezing his muscles, and the flash of a haughty smirk at the furthest back of his mind. This wasn't what he wanted. None of it. Neither the touch nor the drink, no matter what his mind wanted to convince him of.

It's easier to need than the things that take hard work, the ones you have to earn. It had taken him a long time to admit that.

"I don't drink." Wei Ying said, angling his head as much as the muscles of his neck permitted to look at the guy invading his personal space squarely. "Remove your hand now."

The guy bristled.

"Hey, chill out, sweetheart." He was quick to regain his composure with an awkward laugh and not enough common sense. Wei Ying supposed he must have been used to rejection. Too bad. "You're so tense… Maybe a virgin cocktail then."

His crutch shot up before the full sentence was out.

The man stumbled back with a startled yelp as the rubber point connected with his chest in a sharp jab.

"Hey! What's your problem?!"

"I said I don't drink." Wei Ying was completely unapologetic, still holding his crutch like a sword, but the guy was already walking away, muttering ‘fucking bitch’ under his breath.

"You alright there, girl?"

His gut clenched at the words.

He looked up to meet the only slightly worried, but otherwise unbothered gaze of the bartender and told himself it wasn't her fault. She probably wasn't even aware. He knew he didn't… There was no way for him to pass. There was nothing he could do about that, had already decided not to, not at this time, not in this country. Wei Ying didn't expect people to know on sight. He didn't. It didn't change the fact though that every single misnomer felt like someone was peeling his skin off.

"I'm not a girl," he said to her almost too quietly, but he knew she heard when he met her gaze. A strained silence passed between them in which Wei Ying watched her frown in confusion, then sputter with the loss of words, before awkwardly shuffling off. He smiled wryly. How funny. It really wasn't anything complicated, and yet… So few were able to comprehend.

Wordlessly, Wei Ying slid off the stool and made his way out of the bar as quick as his crutches let him be.

Once outside, the crisp air mercilessly purifying, he realized how close to the edge he had gotten once again. He had to stop doing this. He couldn't afford another fall, another spiral back down the drain. Not when he had just clawed his way out. Not when he had people depending on him now. Tiny people with curious gray eyes, so much like his own. Waiting for him at home.

Something icy touched his face and instinctively he looked up only to find it snowing.

That explained the ache.

The cold always made him feel sore, although he knew at least some of it was phantom pain. He hadn’t retained a whole lot of feeling in his left leg, beyond a tingle that had become almost constant and the occasional twitch. His right leg was fine, it just tended to ache a lot, to a point where Wei Ying sometimes found himself wishing it wasn't better off than the other one. But then he wouldn't get away with 'forgetting' his wheelchair at home, so he quickly dismissed that thought. Besides, there were plenty of people who had it worse. He, at least, could still walk. He could still stand. Kinda. He had no room to complain.

After all, he had done this to himself.

'It's better this way.' He remembered thinking, standing on the top of the catwalk stairs backstage of the high school auditorium. 'A-jie, Jiang Cheng,… Lan Zhan. I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused you. I love you. I'll get out of your hair now.'

In the end it had been easy to tip backwards and let himself fall.

Waking up had been the hard part. Not only had he failed, but every reason that had pushed him to end it all had only been made worse. Worse still, after. He had lived though, so that was that. There was no utility in regret. He couldn't go back. The only way was forward now, step by painful step. Standing around and staring at the snow falling was nice, but it wouldn't make the walk shorter. Home wasn't far away. He'd take it slow. He'd be there before he knew it.

He barely took three steps before he felt someone's broad shoulder bump against his, his equilibrium yanked roughly from under his feet.

He remembered falling.

Not the act of it, nor every thought and feeling that preceded it, but he remembered the soft pressure at his skull as he tipped backwards, the endless instant of the free fall, a moment frozen in time. Not the impact, but the inevitability of it, coming, coming, almost there. The loss of control. The frightening, exhilarating realization of his absolute surrender. Not the oblivion that followed but the fragments of muddled awareness afterwards. Disorientation, rock bottom and the overwhelming sense of failure.

It had felt nothing like now.

He felt the loss of ground beneath his feet, the scrape of concrete against his palms, as he all but starfished onto the pavement. A sharp pain. The frustrated annoyance of another thing gone wrong in the long list that made up the day.

Only the failure felt the same, funny that.

"I'm sorry!" Said a deep voice. "I wasn't looking."

"Yeah, no shit." He chuckled, because really, who could have guessed.

"Here, let me help." There were hands on his arm, just as he propped himself up, but he yanked it away.

"I'm fine!" He wasn't helpless. He wasn't, dammit! He had his arms, his abdominals, and most of his legs. Getting up from the ground wasn't such a herculean task for him as for those who depended on a wheelchair. He didn't have to call an ambulance just because he starfished. He didn't need any help at all here, especially not the help of some ditzy stranger with their head in the clouds…

"Wei Ying?"

Wei Ying froze.

Few people on this Earth called him that, and none of them had a voice like that. He looked up to see glowing amber on a face carved out of a dream.

"Lan Zhan?"

Of all the people to be in town today of all days, the least likely would have to be Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, his former senior, Lan Zhan, his best friend. Lan Zhan, whom he had told his secrets, Lan Zhan, who he… who he…

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan… Can I kiss you? I understand you don't like me that way, and it's fine, I'm fine, really, but… uhm… It's supposed to be special. The first kiss. I… I want it to be yours. Just one kiss." A child he barely remembered had wanted and wanted, never satisfied. "Ah, it's okay if you don't want to. I get it. It's fine. I'm just being selfish."

But that had been a long time ago. A person he didn't know, a past life that had never truly been. Not for him in any case.

Lan Zhan was looking at him like a ghost had appeared in front of him.

Although, ghosts didn't need crutches. Honestly, Wei Ying did wish he could float quite frequently.

Face twisted in sardonic amusement at that childish wish, he pulled himself up with some maneuvering and a lot of effort. This seemed to wake Lan Zhan from his daze as he quickly followed. Wei Ying didn't miss the sweeping gaze as his once friend took him in, wondering what he saw. A stranger, perhaps? A new person? Him? Wei Ying knew he hadn't changed much on the outside, aside the obvious and maybe in his weight distribution, but Lan Zhan had always had the ability to look past the surface. Was he still able to do that? Or was he just taking in his appearance, assessing his matted, worn out body that seemed to show every year that had passed multiplied by ten? Wei Ying was aware that time had not been the kindest to him, but he was hanging on. He was past the worst now. He was doing better. He was!

He wondered if Lan Zhan still could see that too.

"Wei Ying." His name again, spoken with enough wonder to give Wei Ying the courage to meet his gaze. There was an unspoken question in it.

"Yeah," Wei Ying answered and felt the cusp of a smile pull at the corners of his lips. "Long time no see, Lan Zhan. Fancy meeting you here."

"I really like you, Lan Zhan," the person he didn't know had said, red faced with embarrassment and a shaking voice. "I mean like… like like."

Back then he had believed that moment to be the most nerve-wracking experience he was ever going to survive. Today he missed his naivety.

Lan Zhan gave him a look like he just realized it was really Wei Ying standing in front of him. Like he still could barely believe it. It unraveled a completely different ache in Wei Ying. They had been close once, and though they had always shared their secrets, Wei Ying had seen him so open and unguarded but once.

"I...like...boys," had been the answer. The refusal so, so gentle, unable to accept, thus giving something of equal value in return instead. A truth for a truth, a secret for a secret. "Wei Ying, I'm gay."

Lan Zhan, always figuring things out so quickly, always willing to accept reality no matter how hard it was. Wei Ying hadn't known back then. If he had known… Who knew what would have been then. It didn't matter anymore. It was a life long gone. What remained of it were a few good memories, some of them he wasn't sure were real.

Now, chance had made them cross paths once again, at a liminal space transversing through time.

"Are you hurt?" Lan Zhan's voice brought him back from his thoughts, and Wei Ying looked where he was reaching for his scraped hands and knees.

Lan Zhan, always the same Lan Zhan… "Not selfish."

So wonderful and kind and warm.

"Eh, I'm fine. Nothing Wen Qing can't fix." He brushed his former friend off, noticing how Lan Zhan's eyebrow seemed to go up infinitesimally at the mention of his old classmate and promptly changed the subject. "What brings you to Yiling, Lan Zhan? Shouldn't you be with your family for Chun Jie?"

"I…" Lan Zhan looked away. "Didn't get an earlier flight."

That sounded suspicious, especially since the Lan Zhan Wei Ying knew liked to plan ahead. But Wei Ying wasn't the same he had been, maybe Lan Zhan wasn't either. People were allowed to change. It also didn't answer what he was doing in Yiling in the first place, but Wei Ying wasn't forcing him to tell. Wei Ying had never wanted to force Lan Zhan into anything, he wasn't going to start now.

"Wei Ying." Lan Zhan looked at him again, this time meeting his eyes squarely. He paused. "How have you been?"

Wei Ying felt the loom of a shadow over him, and his gaze dropped to the ground for a second.

"As you can see." He put a reassuring smile on his face as he summoned enough will to hold Lan Zhan's gaze. "Still alive and kicking."

Which was probably much more than the last time Lan Zhan had heard of him.

"I was looking for you. I wanted to see you. After." The what remained unspoken. Lan Zhan's kind heart hadn't changed. Wei Ying sought comfort in it, warmed by the thought of his best friend trying to get in touch even after everything went to hell. "I was told you… left."

Wei Ying made a soft sound of affirmation through the small smile that had spread on his face. "I moved out on my eighteenth birthday. Aunt Yu… I was supposed to stay till graduation, but... ah. I fucked up. Colossally."

"Wei Ying." Lan Zhan remained the only person Wei Ying knew who managed to frown without a single crease on his face. "You were recovering."

"It was fine, Lan Zhan." Wei Ying chuckled even as he held back a sigh. Lan Zhan didn't know half of it. "I moved in with the Wens."

There was a pause.

"With Wen Qing?" Lan Zhan asked and Wei Ying realized that small detail wouldn't have been immediately clear to him, all things considered.

"With Wen Qing and her family." He nodded. After a moment of thought he added. "Not Wen Chao. I know nothing about that douchebag."

"Mn," Lan Zhan agreed and it sounded so wholehearted that it startled a laugh out of Wei Ying.

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan," Wei Ying said, feeling truly light for the first time in a long time. The smile he gave Lan Zhan felt warm and genuine. He hoped Lan Zhan saw it too, and didn't think Wei Ying was trying to shake him off, when he spoke next. "It's so good to see you. You're the best thing that happened to me today. I would love to catch up, but they're waiting for me at home and I'm already late."

"Mn." Lan Zhan nodded. There was a pause. Then, just as Wei Ying was about to ask for his number, "I could. Walk you. If you like."

"I thought you had a flight to catch." Wei Ying wanted to smack his mouth for how hopeful he sounded.

"Mn," Lan Zhan said. "In the evening."

"Lan Zhan!" He startled, amused and surprised at the same time. "And here I thought your bedtime was nine! Don't tell me you crossed to the dark side."

"It is Chuxi." Lan Zhan's voice was soft with a playful note, and Wei Ying felt his heart turn all over again even as he laughed.

"Aiya, Lan Zhan…" A smile spread on his face. "Alright then. I'd love to have your company. If you're sure."

"I am," Lan Zhan answered. "I would… very much like to… catch up with you."

"Well then." Wei Ying's smile broadened and started again in the direction he was heading earlier. "Right this way, sir. But I'm warning you. I'm basically a snail now."

For a beat there was silence, in which Wei Ying figured that Lan Zhan was probably looking for a proper response. He still didn't know how to handle self-deprecating humor, then. Wei Ying chuckled quietly to himself. The more things change…

"That is alright," Lan Zhan finally said. "I have time."

"Oh, do you? That's great!" Wei Ying grinned from ear to ear, marveling at how easy it suddenly was. "Aah, Lan Zhan I really missed this!"

"Mn," Lan Zhan agreed but didn't say anything else.

For a few moments silence reigned again, of a comfortable kind. One that allowed Wei Ying to bask in the startling, almost miraculous presence of his best friend. Or it would have been, had Wei Ying not been keenly aware of Lan Zhan's intense stare.

"Do I really look that bad?" He teased, hoping to give Lan Zhan the opening he probably needed to ask whatever questions he had. "I've actually gained weight over Dongzhi you know."

Lan Zhan blinked, as if startled to be called out. Wasn't he aware that he had been staring? Or had he not expected Wei Ying to say something?

"You look…" he started, then swept his gaze over Wei Ying.

"Tired?" Wei Ying offered, keeping the humor in his words. The last thing he wanted Lan Zhan to think was that he needed to sugar coat his words around him now. "Stressed? Battle worn?"

"Different," Lan Zhan finished.

"Ah." Wei Ying breathed out, something in his chest tightening. "Good different, or bad different?"

Lan Zhan looked at him for a long moment.

"Different you," he finally answered. A pause. "More you."

Wei Ying's breath stuttered, a small questioning sound dragging itself up his throat.

"Wei Ying…" Lan Zhan hesitated for a brief moment, unsure. "May I know your pronouns?"

Always so straight to the point.

"Pro… Pronouns?!" Wei Ying chuckled but even he could hear the nerves buzzing through that sound. "How did you figure that?"

Lan Zhan just kept looking at him. Wei Ying swallowed.

"I…"

He had to know. Since he actually asked, he had to already know. Or at least suspect. Be aware. In general, or about Wei Ying? Had he realized in their years apart, or was there something about Wei Ying now that made him guess? No one has ever been able to tell upon glance. No one.

Something fluttered deep in his chest, like the jingles of a tambourine reverberating. It gave him courage.

Wei Ying took a deep, steadying breath. "He, him, Lan Zhan. It's he, him."

He managed to swallow the thousand words that dragged themselves up his throat instead of that one, simple truth. To his credit, Lan Zhan let him, waiting patiently and with complete silence for Wei Ying to say his part.

"I'm trans," Wei Ying added, finding it easier to say after the initial confession. "As in full time, on actual testosterone, trans male."

Their eyes met. A heartbeat of silence.

"Mn." Lan Zhan nodded. "Makes sense."

Wei Ying had not expected that.

In his defense, no one had ever replied like that to him coming out.

"What?" He choked out, bewildered. Lan Zhan was giving him a gentle look, a diametrical opposite of Wei Ying's wide eyes. "Why does that make sense, Lan Zhan?"

"It didn't before." Lan Zhan's gaze dropped. "Now it does."

"What? Why?" Wei Ying repeated, not comprehending a single word his friend had said. At the back of his mind he knew he should be happy and relieved that as dear a friend as Lan Zhan accepted him, and he would be later, but now he was just confused. "Lan Zhan, what are you saying?"

"You confounded me. Before. I didn't understand. It didn't. Add up." He didn't even expect an answer beyond a shrug and an 'It just does', and yet Lan Zhan gave him one, trying to explain like he wanted Wei Ying to understand something important. Important enough to bring it up at their first chance meeting in years. It still didn't clear anything up. The way he was dragging his words out seemed odd too, for how upfront Lan Zhan usually was.

"What didn't add up?" Wei Ying asked again. What about him had confused Lan Zhan?

"I didn't know you were a boy. So it didn't make sense," Lan Zhan answered without looking up and Wei Ying felt dread tighten his stomach into a knot. "But now it does."

"What?" He frowned, the rush of blood pounding in his ears. "Lan Zhan, what are you talking about?"

Lan Zhan finally looked up at him and Wei Ying suddenly felt light headed. The grip on his crutches must have gone knuckle white from how firmly he was gripping the handles. It couldn't be…

"I was confused why I liked you," Lan Zhan whispered, dropping his gaze again. "Why I enjoyed kissing you."

Wei Ying's brain was white static.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, "No!"

His whole body wanted to recoil with shock.

"Wei Ying," Lan Zhan pleaded but was cut short.

"I confessed to you! I told you I liked you!" He saw the bob of Lan Zhan's throat, how his eyes fell shut as he swallowed. Wei Ying despaired for words that could express the entire scale of emotions he felt, from betrayal to hope, but mostly just... shock. "You said you… You've never… And now, after everything… Do you even… Lan Zhan!!!"

"Wei Ying," he said his name like it was all he was capable of saying, with a hitch of sudden hesitance on the last syllable, a minuscule frown around his eyes, like he realized something important. "Do you still call yourself Wei Ying?"

The quiet question conjured up another memory, of an occasion much kinder.

"It's my birth name," he heard his youthful voice, still too high although most had described it as low. Lan Zhan had raised an eyebrow at him, even more puzzled than before. Wei Ying had laughed as he went to explain. "Same character as in 'infant'. Wuxian is the name uncle Jiang gave me so that I have a better name than, you know, 'baby'. It's a cool name! I mean, 'no envy' come on! Like I have no match in the world! Totally rad, you know, uncle Jiang's naming sense is A+."

"But you prefer Wei Ying." Lan Zhan had looked at him then, searchingly and Wei Ying had looked away with a snort, to hide his swallow.

"It's a terrible name. Who the hell names their baby 'baby'?"

Lan Zhan hadn't replied anything to that, and Wei Ying still remembered his next words, and how they had burned on his tongue, how he couldn't hold them back.

"It's what the people who loved me had called me."

In the present, Wei Ying found himself laughing in spite of the utter shock. Only Lan Zhan. Only Lan Zhan would give him a heart attack first then go make sure he wasn't deadnaming him on top of everything.

"Lan Zhan!!!" He cried out. "That's so not the point right now! But, yes, I do. I changed it back, actually. Officially, I mean."

"You dislike it." It sounded more like a question than a statement, so Wei Ying answered.

"Don't get me wrong, I still think Wuxian is way cooler, and my siblings still call me that, but…" His gaze fell away from Lan Zhan to something more distant, beyond his focus as he struggled over his words, drawing them out only with great difficulty from where they were rooted deep inside of him. "It's the name given to the image of a person that never really existed. Like… the painting of a person you met in a dream. And I sorta… I like to imagine that, regardless of who I am… They would still love me."

They. The people who gave him that horrible, unimaginative name.

"Mn," Lan Zhan agreed like there had never been any doubt about it. Wei Ying snorted.

"Wei Ying," there it was again, his name, spoken so kindly, if not hesitantly as Lan Zhan too seemed to be struggling for words. "I would like to apologize. I hurt you. I have been looking for you to tell you this."

All at once, Wei Ying felt his shock settle into something more profound, like the wave that had swallowed him revealing the depth of the ocean. There was nothing Lan Zhan had to apologize for. Not for the lack of awareness, and certainly not for his feelings. Even their conflicts had always stemmed from a place of deep care.

"No." Wei Ying shook his head. "Not more than I hurt myself, Lan Zhan. Even when you scolded me, you never hurt me."

Had Lan Zhan broken his heart? Yeah, he had. So what? Did that mean he could be held accountable for it? Wei Ying's feelings were his own shit to deal with, not Lan Zhan's. Returning them wasn't Lan Zhan's duty. Even if he returned them, would it be fair to fault him for running away from them? For feeling insecure and anxious about his own attraction? For not knowing these things weren't as clear cut as all the adults around them had wanted to make them believe? It wasn't like Wei Ying had known either back then. He had, perhaps, understood himself even less than Lan Zhan. Most importantly, it was all in the past now. It couldn't be changed. What they made of it now was what mattered.

"None of my bullshit is your fault," he added. "You didn't go and tell me to fuck up my life. That was all on me."

"You wrote," Lan Zhan started, then paused, hesitating, then started again. "In your letter, you wrote…"

Wei Ying picked up on the question immediately.

"Not you," he said, the same words he had penned all those years ago in what was one of only two letters. "Never you. I had my reasons, but none of them were about you. In fact, I thought of you as the last good thing in my life at that point. The one true friend I still had left."

Lan Zhan's gaze fell on his crutches, but he didn't ask. Wei Ying was grateful.

"Come on, I need to get a move on," he said, starting to walk again, smiling at the surprised expression Lan Zhan had given him, when he realized he was still welcome to accompany him. Maybe it was something about that look that made Wei Ying add, after another second of thought, "There are people waiting for my return."

"Mn," Lan Zhan hummed, falling back in step next to him. "That's good. You should have people waiting for you at home."

Wei Ying couldn't help but smile.

"Say, Lan Zhan,…" he said after a few seconds of silence, when all what Lan Zhan has confessed slowly sunk in. "When you say you've been looking for me… You mean all this time?"

"Mn." Lan Zhan nodded. Wei Ying watched him gather his thoughts, the snow fluttering all around them. "I wanted to see you. Ask how you were doing. See if… If you needed support. Apologize. For not being a good friend to you before."

"Lan Zhan…" Wei Ying listened to him, and when Lan Zhan finally looked up at him his gaze was so sincere that his heart ached with it.

"I wanted to tell you the truth." Lan Zhan didn't let himself be interrupted. "That I liked you back. Without any expectations. That I didn't understand, but that it didn't matter. That I could like you without understanding why. That I wasn't asking for anything, just wanted you to know. That I wanted to help, in any way you'd let me."

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan…" Wei Ying sighed, vision suddenly blurred. He drew a deep breath. "But I wasn't there."

"Mn." Lan Zhan nodded. "I asked your sister where I could find you…"

"But she didn't know," Wei Ying finished for him. No one knew, except one person. "And Jiang Cheng wouldn't give you my address if you held him at gunpoint."

"Your brother knows you're here." It had the structure of a question but it was spoken as a statement, the same kind of incredulous as the look Lan Zhan was giving him. All things considered, it was kinda fair, Wei Wuxian thought as he barked a laugh.

"Yeah," he said, shoulders shaking a little as he snickered. "He's the designated secret keeper."

Lan Zhan just stared, wordlessly.

Wei Ying's smile gained an edge at the unspoken question. He had to clear his throat before he answered. "We're… not quite alright yet, but… Ah, how do I say this? He's the better judge of the situation? With, uhm, aunt Yu, I mean. It's… complicated."

Honestly, when wasn't it?

"I… see." Lan Zhan really didn't sound like he did, but didn't press, continuing his story instead. "Your sister was able to tell me which city you were in. So I… applied for a job."

Wait. Pause. Rewind.

"You work here?!" Wei Ying felt his jaw go slack.

"As an attorney. At 'Xiao and Song'," Lan Zhan confirmed, then looked back at Wei Ying. "Civil law. With focus on LGBTQ+ rights. I passed the bar last year."

"You…" There was so much to unpack in that statement that Wei Ying couldn't quite get the words together fast enough. At the back of his mind he was aware he should probably congratulate Lan Zhan on his degree but he was too stunned by the other, more important implications. "You've moved here? For work? All because… Because… You were looking for me?"

"Mn."

"Lan Zhan!" His amazing friend who, for some reason, in spite of having a great new life had been desperate to find him. "But you… But I…"

"Wei Ying," he spoke so, so softly, but with clear intent to stop any protest Wei Ying might have wanted to utter. It worked. Wei Ying's mouth fell shut, taking his friend in with a bright, wide gaze. "I missed you. I have no expectations. I just… missed you."

Warmth spread in Wei Ying's chest over the tender words, like a dying flame rekindled.

"Lan Zhan..." He didn't quite know what to say, oddly touched. "It's how you knew, isn't it? I'm not the only trans person you've met."

"There was a client," Lan Zhan admitted. "They made me think of you. I have wanted to ask you since. I wanted to know if… If I made a mistake."

He didn't specify what mistake he feared being guilty of. He didn't really have to.

For a while Wei Ying just looked at him.

"Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan…" He sighed, a small but genuine smile stealing itself onto his lips. "You… you're something else, you know that?"

Lan Zhan didn't reply, but there was something vulnerable in his expression.

"I missed you too."

Lan Zhan's eyes snapped back to Wei Ying's face, full of naked hope and a surprise so honest and pure that Wei Ying's heartstrings almost snapped. He could accept it. He could accept a friend longing for his company, even as his heart hammered against his chest like it was trying to escape its utter desolation.

"I couldn't have expected you to know something I didn't realize until much later." He hadn't realized there was tension around his friend's eyes until it relaxed.

Wei Ying took him in, his entire appearance and noted that although perfectly poised and immaculately dressed, beneath it all there was an exhaustion, a tension he didn't recognize. He thought about their meeting – the collision of two bodies launched out of their orbit – and everything else Lan Zhan had told him and a question dragged itself on his tongue that refused to be swallowed back in.

"Say, Lan Zhan… Since we are being so honest..." He asked before he could have thought better of it. "Why aren't you in Suzhou yet, for real? You always went home at least two weeks ahead of the festival. Did something happen?"

If there was something happening with Lan Zhan's family… Well, Wei Ying had missed enough opportunities to be a good friend in all the years they had been apart, or even before that. If Lan Zhan wanted to be his friend, Wei Ying was returning that tenfold. A secret for a secret, a truth for a truth.

If Lan Zhan wanted, that was.

For a second Wei Ying wasn't sure, but then the broad shoulders slumped, heaving like a weight was being lifted off them.

"I didn't always intend to go," Lan Zhan admitted. "Brother convinced me at the last moment. I wish he hadn't."

Their eyes met and Wei Ying felt a sudden heat spread through his cheeks at the intensity of Lan Zhan's gaze. He didn't take the bait, waiting patiently instead.

"I came out to my uncle. After the bar." Lan Zhan's gaze fell to the ground again, and Wei Ying already knew what he was about to say, aching dread settling painfully in his chest. "He did not… react well. He tried to set me up immediately afterwards."

"Aw man..." Wei Ying tried to sound both gentle and sympathetic without being too pitying. In his experience that never helped. "Yeah, I get that you didn't want to go home after that."

"Mn." Lan Zhan nodded, but said no more.

"Was she at least pretty?" Wei Ying tried to joke, unable to bear that forlorn expression on Lan Zhan's face and incapable of thinking of anything better to cheer his friend up. It would have been easy in the past, but now, with years containing entire lifetimes between them he didn't know anymore how to make Lan Zhan laugh.

But then Lan Zhan's lips twitched a little, so maybe not all was lost.

"Luo Qingyang," he answered, like Wei Ying was supposed to know the vaguely familiar name. Lan Zhan responded to his confused frown with his own and went on to explain. "You were in the drama club together. She was… Juliet. To your Romeo."

Very few guys had been in the drama club at that time, so Wei Ying had usually gotten the main male protagonist. He had loved it. It had been one of the reasons why he had joined the drama club in the first place. His co-star in all of that...

"Mianmian!" He exclaimed, eyes bright with delight. "It's been ages since I've last…"...Seen her. Seen anyone, he didn't say, schooled his expression and laughed instead. "I can't believe they tried to set you up with Mianmian! How is she?"

"Mn," Lan Zhan made a small sound out agreement that amused Wei Ying, before he answered. "She is well. Studying. Also law. She will take the bar next year."

"All of you are so smart…" Wei Ying chuckled, fond with more memories. "You know I made out with her once?" He promptly laughed at Lan Zhan's expression. "Relax, it wasn't as good as with you."

Their eyes met again and Wei Ying saw something like hope spark in Lan Zhan's eyes, which…

Wei Ying stopped. He let his gaze wander around, collecting his thoughts. He startled as he realized he was almost home, the agonizing minutes he usually needed reduced to nothing in the presence of his friend. The ache that had gnawed at his limbs earlier had all but disappeared, replaced by a longing ache in his heart.

"Lan Zhan," he found himself speaking without the input of his mind. "You said you liked me, so you should know… I don't intend to have surgery." He saw Lan Zhan open his mouth, probably to assure him once more of his pure intentions, which Wei Ying didn't need to hear. "I know, I know, you have no expectations, and I'm not saying we have to, but… My feelings for you never changed. I still like you, but I'm also… I'm a man Lan Zhan, but I'm not adjusting my body. Not to that degree."

"Is it a financial issue?" Lan Zhan asked after a pause and Wei Ying cut him off before he could continue with something ridiculous like an offer to pay.

"It's… not not about money, but…" He thought for a moment about how to say what he wanted to say. "Regardless of that, I refuse to go through all the legal hoops that this government would demand of me, like I'm supposed to beg them just to be who I am. And... Besides that…" He took a deep breath. "I think I'd like to have another child."

"Another…" There was a strangled sound, which he ignored, forcing himself to voice what he'd been struggling to put into words for a while now.

"I want to give it one more try. Voluntarily," Wei Ying found it difficult to say, despite the thought of a baby in his arms filling him with a warmth he wouldn't have expected mere years ago. "With someone I actually like this time."

"This time." There was something very wrong with the tone of Lan Zhan's voice, and as Wei Ying looked up at him, realization hit him with the force of a freight train.

"Oh! Oh no!" Lan Zhan's eyes were akin to saucers, and Wei Ying vaguely thought he had never seen his friend express shock so openly. "Fuck, I'm so dumb! Of course you don't know! How would you know?!"

Of course that very same moment, before Lan Zhan had any chance of collecting himself, a cheerful shout echoed through the street in an all too familiar, youthful voice. "BABA!!!"

Wei Ying winced. In the way life usually was – his life in particular – before Wei Ying could come up with a single word of explanation, there was the flurry of movement, and a warmth enveloping his leg – the better one.

"Baba, baba, you're home!"

Wei Ying's eyes fell down to the source of the excited noise to have two mischievous gray eyes reflected back at him. An unbidden smile spread on his face.

"A-Yuan!" He shifted around a little until he could safely run his fingers through the child's hair, even as he was keenly aware of the man next to him. "Have you been waiting for me?"

There was a twinkle and a nod, his very own baby's face beaming up at him with unabashed adoration. A tiny hand wrapped itself around his wrist and just like that the last of the day's stress fell away. He looked back at Lan Zhan. It was difficult to describe the expression his friend was giving him, frozen with disbelief, shock and something too close to horror, as his mind seemed to be rearranging and reevaluating every piece of information known to him. Finding no point in delaying the inevitable, Wei Ying braced himself and went for it.

"Lan Zhan, this is a-Yuan. He's mine. Gave birth to him and all." He made a point to smile, although Lan Zhan's expression remained unchanged. Deciding to give him the space he needed to get himself together, Wei Ying turned his attention back to his child. "A-Yuan, this is Lan Zhan. He's an old friend of mine from school. Want to introduce yourself?"

"Hello!" A-Yuan said before Wei Ying even finished the sentence. "I'm a-Yuan and I'm already four years old! I like butterflies and bunnies! Baba gave me Radish and a coloring book for my birthday. I was four last month! I love my baba bestest! But I love xiao-shushu und Qing-guma and granny and uncle Shi lotsa too!"

It was an altogether perfect introduction, and Wei Ying felt pride and love thrumming through his heart with a strength he hadn't believed to be possible. He watched the mental math behind Lan Zhan's eyes, a complicated expression spreading on his friend's face. He decided to give him another moment to complete the mental calculations and focused on something else that a-Yuan had reminded him of.

"Speaking of, where's your xiao-shushu?" Wei Ying looked around, then with growing suspicion back at the child still wrapped around his leg. "Did you ditch him again?"

Mischief spread on a-Yuan's face as he hid in Wei Ying's thigh.

"A-Yuan." Wei Ying narrowed his eyes at him, gently scolding. "We've talked about this. No walking around on your own. What if something happened?"

"But I'm with you," came the simple answer. "I have to help you walk. You said! To help you walk I have to take your hand. I saw you and gege wasn't holding your hand, so I came to help."

"Ah, so filial, a-Yuan…" Wei Ying looked up to the skies, silently begging the heavens for strength while fighting a ferocious blush. This child of his was as much a blessing as he was a huge trouble. The best kind of trouble, if Wei Ying was honest.

"A-Yuan!"

He was still busy trying to change his smile into something more stern, when as if on cue the uncle in question appeared around the corner, calling for his nephew, looking just as frantic as Wei Ying expected him to be. He waited for Wen Ning's eyes to find them, before he looked back down at a-Yuan.

"See how worried Wen Ning is? You can't do this, a-Yuan." The child's expression fell. "Go tell him you're alright and apologize for running away."

A-Yuan didn't waste a single second, rocketing towards his uncle with an excited call.

With his child safe in the most dependable arms that there were, Wei Ying turned to Lan Zhan again. His friend's eyes were closed, face pulled into a tight expression, lips pressed into a thin line, all of which told him what conclusion Lan Zhan had reached.

"It was part of the reason," Wei Ying said, because he knew Lan Zhan would never ask and he wanted his friend to know. "But it wasn't all of it."

Lan Zhan's eyes opened, his look agonized but not pitying, Wei Ying realized.

"There were many things going on," he said. "It was all so fucked up… I knew I couldn't keep him, and somehow I figured… Might as well go together. In the end we both survived, funny that."

"The father. The father is…" Lan Zhan trailed off, couldn't bring himself to say the name, but he didn't have to. Just as Wei Ying didn't have to answer other than with a rueful smile. After all, there was only one option. Lan Zhan drew a deep breath. "Was it… Did he…"

Here too, Wei Ying knew what he was asking, felt it like the edge of a knife against his skin.

"I don't want to talk about it." He swallowed, a prickling at the corners of his eyelids. "Not yet, at least. I'll tell you the story another time."

Lan Zhan nodded. Worried his jaw. Wei Ying waited.

"Was that why you… left?" His voice was so quiet that if Wei Ying wasn't paying attention, he probably wouldn't have noticed he had said anything at all.

"To put it in the words of aunt Yu, whores aren't welcome under her roof. She threatened to leave uncle Jiang, if he kept supporting me. It's fine," he added quickly when he saw Lan Zhan's face darkening. "Uncle Jiang gave me the trust fund he had for me, which wasn't little, I have a job and I get some aid from the government too. There's also granny's pension and everyone else is working. You don't have to worry, Lan Zhan, we get by."

Lan Zhan looked like he wanted to say something cutting, but luckily they were interrupted by Wen Ning joining them, a-Yuan in his arms. He was probably getting too big for that, but he knew first hand that Wen Ning could lift a full-sized adult without breaking a sweat so he wasn't very worried for either of them.

"Wei-ge, welcome home," Wen Ning greeted him. His eyes wandered to Lan Zhan for a brief moment, then to Wei Ying's hands which were still scraped. "Is everything alright?"

"More than!" Wei Ying ignored the look, grinning and watched a-Yuan beam at him. "Everything's perfect, look who I met in town! You remember Lan Zhan, right? He was in the same class with Wen Qing. Turns out he works here!"

Wei Ying managed to say all of that in one breath before he even realized he was doing it, yet consciously leaving out the bar and without bothering to detail exactly how the 'bumping' went down. Wen Ning took it all in, then gave Lan Zhan a polite smile, his dark eyes meeting Lan Zhan's squarely.

"I know of Lan-xianbei," he said slowly, cautiously polite, before his expression settled into a smile and he inclined his head in greeting. "We've never met officially."

There was a brief round of long overdue introductions, which Wei Ying was happy to ignore in favor of watching a-Yuan grow increasingly fascinated with Lan Zhan. It etched the lines around Wei Ying's smile deeper into his features, in a way he hasn't felt for a long time.

"A-Yuan." he couldn't help but pinch one of the chubby cheeks, after a little shifting of weight. "You keep looking at Lan Zhan like that, he'll think you like him."

"Pretty gege," was all a-Yuan had to say to that, a smile splitting his face, while Lan Zhan's ears turned red. Wei Ying laughed, alight with surprise that the one tell-tale sign of his shyness still remained. Lan Zhan was looking at a-Yuan with increasing curiosity, that pained line from earlier disappearing from his features, slowly replaced by wonder instead.

Wei Ying only looked away when he felt a tiny finger poke at his cheek, angling his head towards a-Yuan to listen to whatever secret his son wanted to share.

"Will pretty gege stay for dinner?" A-Yuan whispered through his hands, causing a complicated set of feelings to run through Wei Ying's chest.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but Lan-shushu can't stay." Wei Ying mock pouted at his son. "He has a flight to catch later."

"Why?" A-Yuan asked, as he did all the time.

"He has to visit his family," Wei Ying answered.

"Oh…" A-Yuan's face fell. There was no doubt in Wei Ying's mind had the answer been anything else, he would have kept asking, but if there was one word a-Yuan understood better than anyone, it was 'family'. It didn't mean he liked it. "But… But I heard! I heard that we will have a party tonight! I cleaned my room, and I did a picture for teacher, and helped granny bake! I was the bestest and uncle said I could stay up extra long tonight 'cause then baba would live forever!"

"I didn't say forever," Wen Ning corrected him timidly, but neither of them paid attention to him, the poor soul. A-Yuan only heard what he wanted to hear, and Wei Ying was too busy making sure his heart didn't burst. He still sometimes couldn't quite believe how much he loved this child.

"Me too." It came unexpectedly from beside him, and when Wei Ying turned to look he found Lan Zhan looking almost as surprised as he felt. "I mean, I also usually stay up longer on Chuxi."

A-Yuan's smile eclipsed the sun. Lan Zhan returned it with an expression so impossibly soft that Wei Ying's heart almost did burst then.

"Pretty gege can stay, and his family can come too, and I will draw everyone a picture!" A-Yuan all but vibrated with bare excitement that Wei Ying felt bad that he had to chide him.

"A-Yuan, do we tell people what they can and can't do, or do we ask?" He had picked the gentlest way possible, but his son still hid his face in his uncle's neck, utterly dejected.

To be fair, Lan Zhan looked rather stricken himself. It was adorable to watch and Wei Ying… Wei Ying knew that no matter whatever feelings he might be harboring, he only came as a set with his son. There was no possible way of heaping that responsibility on another person from the get go, on top of everything else, and yet. And yet. Lan Zhan was regarding a-Yuan with such fondness that it did strange things to Wei Ying's heart, and just like that courage bloomed in Wei Ying's chest.

"How about a compromise? Lan Zhan," he asked carefully. "You still have a few hours left until you have to be at the airport, don't you? Would you… Would you like to come inside?"

"Yes, yes, yes! Please, pretty gege, pretty please." A-Yuan loved the idea, immediately reaching his arms out in silent demand to be held. Wei Ying could only watch as Wen Ning oh so carefully leaned forward and tightened his hold so that a-Yuan could safely launch himself into Lan Zhan's open, waiting arms. He bet Lan Zhan hadn't even noticed how he held them out in a response that had seemed completely automatic.

"A-Yuan," Wei Ying reprimanded him gently, doing everything he could to ignore the adorable pout that pressed into Lan Zhan's shoulder. It was difficult to do with his heart singing like that.

"I would hate to intrude," Lan Zhan replied hesitantly, his eyes not leaving a-Yuan for a second and Wei Ying felt his heart constrict.

"I don't think anyone would mind," Wen Ning said, smiling gently.

"It won't be an issue, Lan Zhan, really." Their eyes met. "We still have a lot to… catch up on."

There was a spark that darkened Lan Zhan's eyes briefly, something heavy settling in the air between the two of them. Chance had brought Lan Zhan back into his life, and Wei Ying wanted to hold on. In any way he was allowed to. As long as he was allowed to.

"And you could meet… You could meet my family." Warmth spread deep in Wei Ying's chest as the word 'family' echoed in his mind, before he added in a whisper. "If you like."

"Wei Ying…" Finally, after what felt like an entire eternity, Lan Zhan spoke, the softest of smiles spreading on his face, gentle as the first rays of the sun on a misty morning. "I would very much love to meet your family."

"Great!" Wei Ying felt the smile split his face from one ear to another and amidst the cheers of his child that echoed the ones in his heart and started towards the door that Wen Ning held open for him. "Come on in then! Let's give everyone the shock of their life that I brought home such a handsome man!"

"Wei Ying…" It was spoken as a reprimand but it sounded like a chuckle.

"Hi, handsome! You're Lan Zhan, right? I've heard all about you!" Somewhere in his memory a cheerful voice greeted the most beautiful youth that there ever was. "I'm Wei Wuxian. I'll let you call me Wei Ying."

The door fell shut to the sound of Wei Ying's laugh.