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pocketsizedquasar · 4 months

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TPOC-Prioritized writings on anti-transmasculinity / transandrophobia

transandrophobia / anti-transmasculinity are both theories that have been spearheaded primarily by trans poc, particularly Black transmascs and transfemmes.

unfortunately, as with Everything created by queer and trans poc, particularly Black queer ppl, white trans ppl (regardless of gender, and regardless of whether they "believe" in this form of oppression or not) have coopted these theories and dominated these conversations, such that both "sides" of the "discourse" are divorced entirely from the racial connotations in which these theories were created, and the ways in which they were created specifically as an intervention against white feminism, and to highlight the ways multiple marginalizations affect the marginalization of masculinity. these are theories that explicitly interact with and can only be understood in conjunction with transmisogyny, as well as other oppressions like racism and misogynoir.

*"anti-transmasculinity" as a term and theory was coined by Black trans folks (some of whom's writings are linked below), and is specifically a theory within the context of Black transfeminism antiBlackness, and transmisogynoir, and cannot be divorced from that context. i try be very intentional about my use of the terms 'anti-transmasculinity' and 'transandrophobia' in different places here, because i do not want to dilute the former’s very particular context.

anyway, here's a list of miscellaneous writings on the subjects, with a priority for collecting writing from trans poc (not all of the authors are tpoc, but this list was intended to prioritize tpoc voices). the intention of this is not to be a be-all end-all on the subject, nor exalt any one of these individuals or pieces as exclusively ~correct~ or whatever, but to combat the whitewashed nature of these discussions online, and raise awareness to the myriad of people speaking on this subject. (nor do i claim to speak for any of them, or claim that any of them speak for me. i tried to make sure i didn't platform blatant racists, zionists, transmisogynists, or other bigots, but i'm not pretending to be 100% accurate about that.)

they aren't in any particular order (except the first one, which i think is an extremely foundational text for anti-transmasculinity theory as delineated by its creators, within the context of antiblackness and transmisogyny, and necessary reading to understand anti-transmasculinity as a theory). I tried to group all the links from the same authors together.

This is a non-exhaustive list! I will likely come back and add more writings as I find them. please feel free to recommend to me any works to include (including your own! especially if you yourself are a Black trans person or a trans POC).

Now with an Archived Read-more Link!

Racial-Class Paternalism and the Trojan Horse of Anti-transmasculinity by Nsámbu Za Suékama. if you read nothing else from this list, read this.

“But even as TME struggles escape the mainstream imagination, they persist, and are often both fueling and being fueled by the war on trans women and transfeminine people. Nothing makes this clearer than in how a Western binary system triangulates that war with Anti-transmasculinity. This is why I say that Anti-transmasculinity is a Trojan horse for Transmisogyny. Like the wooden horse in the Greek myth, it might not seem like what it is, for its actual contents and character are invisible, but at the heart of it, there is a violent campaign going on that is key to how the West aims to lay seige to its civilizational "enemies." And, like the walls of the city of Troy, materialist transfeminism has fortified the opposition to Western domination, in such a way that to overcome the stronghold requires a new strategy for the Man, one that follows up the open and vicious attacks on TMA people with a different, more hidden form of warfare.”

“today’s gender paternalism frames any manhood and masculine embodiment outside of (western) cisheteronormativity as not just biologically illegitimate but also the result of a barbaric threat to civilization. And who typically figures as the face of that barbarism but the Black trans woman? Materialist transfeminism has to theorize Anti-transmasculinity.”

"Non-Men", maGes, and Black Masculinities by genderfugitive / disrupthehuman

One such argument, which is really a collection of arguments but can be consolidated into one, is that trans men are attempting to take a place alongside cis men in the hierarchy of patriarchy. In other words, while they may not have been so before naming themselves as trans men, they are aspiring to be oppressors. This employs a number of rhetorical devices that I have identified before including the idea that trans men are “betraying” cis womanhood and therefore should be seen as threats unless they act as footsoldiers for transmisogyny. The problem with this is that it treats trans manhoods as embodiments that exist as something which merely aspires to be cis manhood.

"For Those Seeking Fight or Flight: Black Trans*feminist Nihilism" / primer on transmisogynoir by genderfugitive / disrupthehuman (not about anti-transmaculinity specifically (though it does come up), but a very good + important read on Black transfeminism & transmisogynoir, so I'm including it)

anti-transmasculinity needs its own theorizing outside of general "transphobia" by genderfugitive / disrupthehuman

anti-transmasculinity & antiblackness inherently linked (& another) both by genderfugitive / disrupthehuman

There is a hidden epidemic of violence against transmasculine people by Orion Rodriguez

a thread master post linking to multiple threads about anti transmasculinity by Salem L. Void / thewarmvoid

a thread on anti-transmasculinity as an epistemic injustice (translated) originally by magicspeedwagon in French; English translation by Salem L. Void / thewarmvoid

Not transmasc invisibility, but erasure by Salem L. Void / thewarmvoid

Girlboy Boygirl Blues - antitransmasculinity as a denial of individual history & more by Salem L. Void / thewarmvoid

"irl we just kiss" - ‘transmasc vs transfem’ discourse & reactionary ‘boys vs girls’ politics in trans spaces by Salem L. Void / thewarmvoid

transmascs & being treated as predatory by Salem L. Void / thewarmvoid

transmasc mental health statistics by Salem L. Void / thewarmvoid

violent anti-transmasculine hate crimes by Salem L. Void / thewarmvoid

thread on examples of systemic anti-transmasculinity by magicspeedwagon

a thread on anti-transmasculinity and its erasure by storyjunkie

anti transmasculinity & transmisogyny and the degendering of Black people by afrodykee

anti transmasculinity & transmisogyny cannot be theorized in opposition to each other by afrodykee

white transfeminism's anti-transmasculinity by afrodykee

Black trans people & erasure of TPOC voices from the trans community by thatspookyagent

transmasculine nonwhite expereince by thatspookyagent

trans men being silenced by thatspookyagent

queer POC being pushed out of conversations by thatspookyagent

cis women's harm to trans men by novascotioducktoller w/ addition about TMOC by thatspookyagent

medical violence in anti transmasculinity by Caleb / sethpuertoluna

example of medical anti transmasculinity by Dominick / transguyenergy

response to inclusion of a trans man in an ad (thread) by Dominick / transguyenergy

anti-transmasculinity around periods by Dominick / transguyenergy

anti-transmasculinity towards pregnant trans men by Dominick / transguyenergy

transitioning as a transmasc of color by gendercriminals

white (cis) women & racist transandrophobia by dead-lavender-society

transandrophobia as an indigenous trans man by petrichorvoices

examples of transandrophobia by transvermin

the “lost lesbian” narrative & antitransmasculinity by vaguefiend

cis women & transandrophobia by vaguefiend

intersectionality & transandrophobia by visible-schizo-spectrum

more transandrophobia from cis women by cock-holliday

tl;dr : there’s LOTS of theory and discussions out there abt anti-transmasculinity, transandrophobia, how these things relate to other forms of transphobia, how it interacts with other marginalizations, most especially race, and the ways in which it affects transmascs. this information is everywhere. it’s out there. y’all (white ppl) are just refusing to engage with it.

#trans #lgbtq #queer #transphobia #transandrophobia #anti transmasculinity #transmisogyny #racism #long post #quasartalks #been compliling this for ages but i think it's finally at a point where i feel comfortable posting it #like i said though it is very much subject to change! i would love to add more things to this #it is extremely shitty that discussions on antitransmasculinity and transandrophobia have been dominated on here by racist yt ppl and their #token trans poc that they so clearly are just using as a shield against when ppl call them out on aforementioned racism.#anyway. dont bother clowning on this post i will just block <3 #so much of this 'discourse' boils down to: transmascs and trans men (esp transmascs of color) saying: 'hey i experience this thing'#and other ppl (esp white ppl!) going 'no you don't.' it's so blatant lmao #it's just the complete denial of our Authority to talk about our own experiences. we are not trusted to be authorities on our own lives.#which. where have i heard that before. smells like racism. smells like misogyny.#also bc ppl can't read: none of this means transmascs have it worse than transfemmes; that transfemmes oppress transmascs; or that these #-experiences ONLY happen to transmascs. those are all extremely bad faith readings of these discussions.#AND ALSO to the (especially white) transmascs who also can't read and take these discussions as excuses to be racist & transmisogynist:#we cannot combat transandrophobia & anti transmasculinity without combating transmisogyny. they are linked.#anyway. good night

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friesforfriday · 9 months

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A real first kiss (Matt Murdock x F!Reader / College AU)

Summary: You tell Matt no one has ever kissed you out of love. He makes sure to correct that.

Wordcount: 2.5K ish

Warnings/Tags: No use of y/n, reader uses she/her pronouns (no physical descriptions aside from that), college AU, Matt and reader are both in law school, some angst, something that could be read as dissociation (reader feels disconnected to an experience), reader is not straight? (no sexual orientation specified but there's an interaction that is not heterosexual / only kissing tho), comfort at the end (bc I am a sucker for happy endings lol)

A/N: This was oddly personal, and while it’s a little short it was very therapeutic to write. Pretty much wanted to do something that related to being a late bloomer (like I have been my whole life) plus some fluff (: Please take into account that this wasn't proof read and that English isn't my first language; if you happen to see any mistakes, do let me know so I can fix them. Hope you enjoy this!

For most people, their first kiss was usually a memory of their early teenage years, maybe even a childhood one. You could recall the stories your friends have told you. On sunny days during summer camp, connections were born after swimming in a lake all afternoon. Laughter scattered in open fields or forests between games of capture the flag. That turned into late-night conversations, sneaking out from each other’s cabin after curfew to meet under the starry sky.

Or perhaps it started out as a hallway crush. The kind that you would keep between friends and hid under silly codenames. It stirred up giggling after locking eyes during the free period, and guess what maybe it turned out they’d been watching you all along. Maybe later a study date would into something more when if your knuckles brushed accidentally.

All very innocent and sweet, most likely a terrible kiss, but nevertheless a story worth remembering.

There were plenty more stories you could think of, from childhood friends turned to high school sweethearts and plenty about games of truth or dare or spin the bottle. For some, their first kiss was meaningless, sometimes an embarrassing story they liked to joke about or occasionally a heartwarming one.

Throughout the years, you had patiently waited for your turn. You didn’t have many expectations of how it would actually happen, you just held on for the moment to finally occur. It just never did.

Middle school rolled by, which was fine, right? A lot of people need more time to grow into themselves, it would eventually happen, you were sure. Maybe it wasn’t going to be one of those awkward extended pecks that your friends said seemed to last forever. They insisted it was for the best, no one really knows what they’re doing when they still haven’t even fully hit puberty. If you had your first kiss later in life, there was a higher chance it wasn’t going to be completely awful. You could deal with that; high school was supposed to be more exciting a new chance to expand your circle.

Unfortunately, once again, you stood waiting. By this point, it was possible that maybe you had watched too many rom-coms or read one too many romance novels. You’re sure now that it helped in no way to ease your expectations. How difficult could it be? You saw it all. Your best friends got into relationships, went on dates, celebrated anniversaries, and had their hearts broken, only to survive them and start all over again. Kids in your classes, the kind to never speak their minds, suddenly grew into themselves and found their people too.

During lunchtime, couples sat next to each other, holding hands in the cafeteria. Field trips meant seeing impromptu make-out sessions in the back of the school bus. Your friends received proposals for homecoming and eventually proms; always happy to invite you to come along when you didn’t receive any. At the occasional party you attended, you sat in corners watching as others were approached. Not once came anyone to strike up a conversation, to casually sweep you off your feet. You stood by wondering if you were doing something, anything, wrong.

Love was everywhere, just never in your life.

You’d be lying to say it didn’t hurt your self-esteem. How come it never happened to you? Were you really that unattractive or uninteresting or whatever it could actually be for no one to be interested in you? No matter how many times your friends, or anyone who found out really, assured you weren’t the problem, the evidence seemed to point elsewhere.

It took you approximately one year of college to decide it had been enough. Would anyone genuinely ever like you? Maybe you truly were a late bloomer, but c’mon, those “the right person will find you when you least expect it” pep talks were starting to feel like bullshit. For fucks sake, it didn’t even matter anymore if they actually liked you, you just wanted to get it over with. It turned out, it wasn’t fun winning a round of never have I ever when you had to admit, and insist, that you had never kissed anyone no, not even a small peck.

The matter was taken into your own hands on a Saturday night. The crowded spaces doing you no favors to appease your social anxiety. As you walked around, room after room was filled to the brim with strangers, your friends nowhere to be found. The floor of the frat house they had dragged you to remained particularly sticky everywhere you went, especially in the kitchen where you had stopped to refill the red plastic cup in your hands.

Pouring rum into your glass full of coke, a familiar voice called your name from across the room, “Oh my God, is that really you?”

Greetings were exchanged, as well as short debriefings of what you’d been up to since graduating. For all the time you’d been at Columbia, that was the first time you’d run into a person from your old hometown. Soon enough you were sitting in a half-empty deck, reminiscing about middle school. The green eyes that looked at you weren’t full of love or lust, one of those odd friendships that stood awkwardly close to an acquaintance, and you suddenly knew you had an opportunity laid at your feet.

It was hard to approach the subject. In all honesty, you weren’t looking for romance anymore. Looking at him, you recalled all the times you joked around in Literature class or the times his parents gave you a ride home before you inevitably grew apart in high school. There was no spark when your knees brushed in the small sofa you were sitting in; but there was no discomfort either, so against your better judgement you decided to go for it.

By all means, it was a good kiss. If you were honest, there wasn’t anything else to compare it to, but none of the complaints you’d heard before happened. There wasn’t any unnecessary clash of teeth, it didn’t feel like he was shoving his tongue down your throat, he kept his hands safely and softly cupping your cheeks and neck. According to all the standards of all of your girlfriends, this was an A+ experience.

By the time you were heading home, you found yourself finally able to check having your first kiss off your bucket list.

Unfortunately, though, when you shared the news over the phone with your best friend, you realized that while everything had seemingly gone smoothly, you still felt empty inside. Like nothing had really changed. It was hard to put into words, how your body had felt out of its own, or maybe it was your mind that was playing tricks on you. Because for some reason, you hadn’t really felt there when it happened. It just sort of seemed to occur.

“You’re kidding, right?” Matt’s face was dead serious.

Letting out a giggle you said, “Why would I be kidding about that?”

“That jerk was your first kiss?”

“He’s not a jerk,” you tried to defend yourself, but he didn’t let you continue.

“He’s a conservative, Republican-governor-wannabe, how is he not–”

“He wasn’t back then!” Raising your tone, you simply burst out laughing at the same time Matt did, because yeah – that dude did end up becoming a jerk. Except it didn’t really matter because you were never into him, and you can’t blame former middle school classmates for who they end up becoming.

“But he is now.”

You both kept laughing, shoulders brushing as you sat on the bed on his side of the dorm room. Foggy had ditched you both for tonight, opting out of your usual weekend hangout in favor of a date with someone called Marci, or so he’d said.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said in your defense, lightly shoving his shoulder with your own. “I didn’t actually like him.”

“Wait…” Matt said scrunching his nose in disbelief, the laughter slowly dying down, “What are you talking about, why'd you kiss him then?”

With his face suddenly turned in your direction, you felt a little embarrassed to admit the truth. “I guess… I just wanted to get it over with.”

An apologetic smile was what he offered in return, with no real judgment behind it. “Well, you should’ve gotten something better... silly as it may be, you know... not just anyone.”

His words stop you in your tracks for a split second, a bittersweet feeling creeping up your chest. You’d never actually considered it, but in the years that had passed since that night, you didn’t recall that any other single kiss you’d received had actually been born from real love or any true feelings at all.

There was that one time you hit it off with someone at a friend’s birthday. The light conversation between the colorful lights had you blushing more than usual. Their body was warm against yours when their lips were pressed to your own. The taste of their lip balm was sweet, almost sugary on your tongue, but it was all a spur-of-the-moment situation. While, unlike the first time, where you’d felt disconnected from your body, this time you’d actually enjoyed it. There was a warm feeling, maybe happiness, but definitely not affection and surely not love.

Then there were some other guys, whom you had very much liked. They listened to you and talked eagerly with you every time you bumped into each other, yet never actually asked you out. They flirted with you or had their friends act as their wingmen to eventually end up making out with you during random parties, but never – you realized – not one single time had anyone ever been interested in you affectionately, with tenderness or sincerity.

As if on cue, as if he could somehow sense what you were thinking, Matt broke the sudden silence that had grown in the room. “I didn’t mean to overstep I–”

You shook your head, breaking free from your thoughts, “No, no, I just… I don’t think I’ve ever had a…” Your voice quieted down before you could finish the sentence. While you weren’t ashamed of any of your experiences anymore, you couldn’t quite seem to get rid of the lingering pain that followed all of them.

“A real connection?”

Your eyes darted up to look at Matt; red glasses were shielding his eyes from yours, but did not cover the furrow of concern between his brows. It wasn’t a secret to Matt that you’d never been in a relationship. You’d told him at some point, during one of the many late-night conversations you enjoyed having. He’d found it hard to believe, truly, how anyone would pass on the chance of earning your trust. The thing was, anyone willing to pass on your endless compassion, your particular sense of humor, the softness of your skin, or the brilliance of your mind was a jackass, and he sure as hell wasn’t one.

He’d known you all of law school, at least all year and a half you’d both taken of it, although to him it might as well be a lifetime because he couldn’t quite picture a time when he didn’t recognize the sound of your heartbeat by memory. Right from the day you sat next to him in the Civil Procedures course, it took him no time to think of an excuse to talk to you, ignoring Foggy – who was also sitting next to him – to ask you if you’d care to study together someday.

Here and now, your very same heartbeat thumped loudly mere inches away from him. The opportunity he had once longed for.

“C’mon man, you gotta tell her at some point” was what Foggy had told him a few hours prior, before he’d left you two alone on purpose. “She obviously likes you, for real. It’s time.”

“I don’t know, Foggy. I don’t want to pressure her, what if she doesn’t want to be anything more than friends? I–”

“Oh my God, Matt! Are you being serious?” He said in a mock tone, “You don’t want to pressure her? She has completely memorized the way you take your tea and somehow prepares it perfectly in the shitty dining hall microwave. She genuinely prefers spending every Saturday night holed up in our dorm or out at Josie’s or pretty much anywhere just to sit next to you. She literally looks at you with stars in her eyes.”

Chuckling, Matt did his best to play coy, “Well, I can’t know about that last part–”

“You know what I mean. You have to tell her, tonight.” Foggy insisted as he made his way out of the dorm room; he pointed his finger at Matt before he fully headed out, “God forbids you actually pursue something that might make you happy. I’ll be over at Marci’s, don’t wait up for me…”

So yeah, Matt knew what he had to do. “I think I’d like to object to that… if that’s okay with you.”

At your silence– aside from the way your heartbeat continued to pick up – he proceeded, “You don’t really think there isn’t a single soul who’d honestly care for you, do you?”

His hand slowly moved from where it rested atop his lap. His knuckles gently brushed your knee and grazed your hand, guiding themselves with the line of your arm all the way up until they reached your shoulder. A small smile grew on your face and quickly turned into laughter. “Matt, are you serious?”

“I’m sorry it took me this long to tell you.” In a second, he mirrored your laughter, nodding his head. He felt the warmth of your fingers cover his other hand. “Is it okay if I– can I kiss you?”

If you recalled correctly, no one had ever asked you that, in all of your lifetime. Surely, for you, this was a first of its kind.

As soon as you said yes, dexterous fingers slid around your waist, gently coaxing you towards him, before taking off his glasses. Your body didn’t resist complying, the warmth of Matt’s chest as inviting as the feeling of his heartbeat against yours, your legs at ease around his own.

The stubble across his neck gently brushed against your fingers, a tingling sensation that almost sent shivers down your spine. This close, there was no escaping the soft smell of soap and cinnamon from his skin or the way his breath fanned across your face. Warmth grew inside your chest as you felt the soft brush of his lips on yours, almost melting together. It was slow and languid, much like honey trickling down your tongue. You were sure it could be just as sweet too, a kind of feeling you had never felt before.

A feeling you guessed was reciprocated if the rumble that reverberated through Matt’s throat was anything to go by. He couldn’t tell why he had waited so long to do this; all of his excuses gone the second the softest skin of your mouth met his. As far as he knew, he could stay with you like this for hours. He didn’t want to pressure you– not even when your breathing got a little faster or when your lips parted oh-so-gently to let him seek out your taste– but this much he could do.

The only reason he found to pull back was to ask you, catching his breath and brushing his thumb over your lower lip, “Does this mean I can take you out tomorrow night? We can do this properly.”

You smiled to yourself, “Only if you kiss me like that again.”

If you're here, thank you so much for reading!!! Please please please let me know what you thought - all feedback is appreciated- and consider reblogging if possible (:

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x fem!reader

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schrodinger-swriter · 2 months

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Hello there! Would you maybe consider writing a Sir Pentious x an autistic nonbinary reader? There aren't many fics for people like me and I've been really loving Sir Pentious recently so it'd mean a lot! Thanks! <:]

Sir Pentious x Autistic!Nonbinary!Reader

Typically I don't do much with gender descriptors for my writing, as a lot of it turns out to be GN anyway... however given that Pentious is from a time before gender labels were well known and given that he likely didn't interact much with people asides from trying to climb to power.. I think I can do something with the idea albeit briefly! I may or may not have used my own experiences for this post aha, apologies!

I hope you enjoy, Anon! C:

He's a little confused on your label, but as soon as you explain it to him he's understanding! It takes him a while, but he does get your pronouns down without much issue. He also tends to correct anyone who uses the wrong ones. Though this may cause a scene due to Pentious being rather... pushy that you are treated with the respect you deserve. I've mentioned it in the period post, but he would try to get as much information as he can on the topic so he can understand it as best as he can. Whether it be from you or from doing his own research!

Speaking of research, he does the same when you open up to him about being on the spectrum. Admittedly, I can see Pentious also being ND however that's a personal headcanon.. ND but undiagnosed, and not really suspecting it. He is simply. Existing.

If you have any interests you are very passionate about, he's going to do his best to match your energy! He's going to attempt to get into it, or even ask you to experience it with him, if possible! Be it media or a hobby, he's going to try to dip his toes... tail... into it! Even if he doesn't much care for it he's going to let you ramble about it to him and he's going to give you your full attention.

Do you stim? Or have some form of self regulation that is perceived a ritual? He's not going to bat an eye! Just as long as it's not harming you or anyone else, he sees little to no reason to try to find an alternative.

Feeling burnt out? He's going to try to make things easier. Not that he wasn't already attempting that by taking care of you. Actually, in general he wants to take care of you and spoil you. Pentious has a lot of love and he hasn't had much place to put it since he's arrived in Hell. He's going to keep on top of chores, so you don't have to worry about that if you're feeling too worn out or overwhelmed. Forgot to eat? He can whip you up something! Speaking of food, he tries to master your comfort/safe foods so he can make them with no problem! If it's a pre-made snack, such as chips, he tries to keep them on hand.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #sir pentious x reader #sir pentious x you #sir pentious imagine

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justmeinadaze · 9 months

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Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is that idea I told y'all about when my PTSD was really bad last week. I actually liked writing some of this out <3. It did help a bit. I wish I had them and a Red to help me through those rough days.

I did set this after the events of Season 4 so slight spoilers involving Max mostly. Im kind of excited to explore a bit more of Steve's PTSD involving the show. I did it a bit here. I also chose to utilize my own trauma as the readers trauma. I'll delve a bit more in the warnings.

Anyone struggling with their mental health, you are not alone <3. You're feelings are valid and we just have to take things one day at a time. I love you :)

Warnings: Steddie X Fem Reader, No smut yet, Fluff with the reader trying to make them feel better and vice versa. Angst, trauma involving the show is mentioned especially with Steve's feelings of what happened to Max, mentions of Eddie being blamed and the town treating him like trash, he does talk about his abuse as a child very briefly as does the reader. No details are mentioned just that it happened. Reader has a panic attack that the boys help her through.

I do expand on symptoms of PTSD and how the reader feels. Symptoms of mental health can be different for everyone so I focused more on what I experience with my own PTSD. As I progress in the chapters and she becomes more open with them I will most likely talk about things that happened to me. I didn't want to generalize what she was going through mostly because its hard. PTSD and trauma are complicated in it of its self so...

Word Count: 5314

You had been coming to this group for years because of your mental health. Your doctor suggested it stating that it might help you to hear from other people going through the same thing you were. Truth be told it never worked. The other people in this post traumatic stress support group were mostly military vets or officers who had just moved to Hawkins to “get away from the chaos.” You imagined it was a quite a shock for them when the earthquake hit…

While a lot of their symptoms and aftermath stories were similar to yours, you struggled to connect. If anything, you felt more alone. So why did you keep coming back?

Routine, maybe. Or the need to have any kind of human contact since you spend the bulk of your time by yourself at home. Hell, you even worked from home so the only living thing you interacted with on a daily basis was your service dog, Ren. You rarely ever spoke in group, choosing to sit there and listen to the other people speak.

Since the earthquake, however, more people had joined to your dismay. Most of the citizens that came in took up most of the time talking about the event and how scared they were about what happened. You tried not to let the disgust show on your face when they spoke, understanding that everyone experiences things differently but they didn’t really know.

They didn’t know what it was like to spend years replaying an event in your head even when you’re asleep. To have those moments where something that would be random to someone else meant something significant to you triggering a panic attack that knocked you on your ass for the rest of the day. They didn’t know what it was like to be so scared to even go to the fucking grocery store to get essentials without the fear that everyone is talking about you and judging you because you’ve been standing in front of the canned goods for a little bit too long wondering if you buy this will you actually eat it or will it just sit there for months at a time because some days you don’t feel like eating.

Your PTSD consumed a lot of your life for most of your life whereas these people were just now stepping into it and were most likely going to step right back out. After a few months, you were correct. All those citizens gradually stopped coming in till it was just the regular survivors once again.

After grabbing some coffee, you and Ren sat in your usual spot, waiting for the meeting to start. The dog grabbed your attention when he whined and without warning placed his head on the stranger beside you.

“Oh. Hey, buddy.”, he coos as his big hand reaches down to pet his head.

“I’m sorry. He probably senses your anxiety.”

“Well shit. He’s not wrong. I’m not really good at any of this.”, he gestures around the room. “But some of my friends insisted we come so…”

“We?”

“Yeah, um…” The boy’s eyes glance up towards someone headed for the seat next to him and it takes you a moment to realize everyone else’s eyes on him as well.

You recognized his face immediately, Edward Munson. The metalhead had been accused of being a satanic worshipper who murdered a bunch of teens a few months ago. He had been cleared of those charges thanks to the help of the old police chief, some detective journalism by Nancy Wheeler, and his friend… “Steve Harrington?”

“That’s me. Do I know you? My memory isn’t what it used to be.”

“She had school with us and graduated along with you, Harrington.”, Eddie sighed as he folded his arms.

“Oh. I’m sorry. What was your name?”

“You look different.”, you blurted before turning away from him and closing your eyes. “I’m…I’m sorry. Sometimes…my mouth moves before…before my brain catches up.”

Ren senses your heightened anxiety and places himself between your legs so you can pet his head, down his back.

“Alright everyone, let’s get started.”, the overly cheery coordinator grins as he sits down and crosses his legs. While glancing at his clipboard, he addresses the circle. “Does anyone have anything they’d like to share before we get going?”

“Why is he here?”, someone sneers as they point towards the metalhead.

“He should be in a cell not in group therapy.”, says another.

“Hey now. Mr. Munson is entitled to care just like everyone else and I expect you guys to treat him with the same respect we do everyone else. If that’s going to be a problem, I completely understand, feel free to leave and meet us at our other scheduled time on Thursday.”

Half the people in the room stood up and walked out, the last person slamming the door of the room for emphasis. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Steve pat his back comfortingly as Eddie lets out a deep, heartbroken sigh.

“Would either of you like to introduce yourself to the rest of the group?”

The metalhead continued to glare forward as Steve spoke up. “As some of you may know, I’m Steve Harrington and this is my friend Eddie. Our other friend Robin suggested we try this since we, uh, we’ve been having some trouble lately.”

“Good, very good. Nice to meet you both. This is a safe space so please feel free to be open here.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s, uh, let’s continue down the line here. Y/N? Do you feel like talking? I see Ren is on duty today. Something you’re anxious about?”

“Everything.” The man chuckles as people around the room nod in agreement. “I’m ok today, thanks.”

The remainder of the meeting goes by smoothly without any incident and as it ends everyone rises to leave except the two people next to you. They expect you to leave as well but when you stand, instead of heading for the door you place yourself next to Eddie. He doesn’t move or make any gestures to acknowledge your presence and you’re ok with that. You aren’t really one for small talk or anything like that but something about his demeanor gave you a gut feeling that you decided to expand on.

Your therapist was always preaching about learning to trust your gut and positive self-talk making your eyes roll every time.

“Um, this is Ren. He’s a service lab for me because I, uh, I get shaky and anxious really easily. He can sense when I’m nervous or about to have an attack so he helps ground me. I can just pet him or he’ll let me hold him. At home, he’s trained to bring me my medication.”

Steve watches you speak, seemingly trying to get a read on you while Eddie continues to stare straight ahead. You can tell he’s listening though because his head tilted ever so slightly towards you as you began explaining things. Personally, he was so ecstatic to hear a stranger talk calmly with him but he couldn’t display that for fear of ruining the moment or worse, it being a lie.

“Do…do you want to pet him?”

His head finally whips around to look at you as his eyes scan yours. Swallowing nervously, he sat up straighter, rolling his eyes in faux frustration as his palm reached out to pet the dog’s head.

“Why Ren? How did you come up with that?”, Steve asked.

“The morning before I got him, I saw Footloose at the cinema. I like Kevin Bacon’s character and his name was Ren. Do you want to see something cute?” Without waiting for an answer, you stood in front of them and motioned for the lab to stand in front of you. Holding out your hands, you sang the Footloose theme song and he jumped up to place his paws in your hands to dance with you.

Both men smiled and you knew you’d never be able to explain why but it comforted you.

“I, um, I know this town can be full of assholes but I hope you do come back next week. Craig, the coordinator, will take care of you. He’s a little quirky but he’s nice.”

Again, you don’t wait for an answer as you gather your things and Ren before heading out the door.

****

When Steve got home that night, he immediately went on the hunt for his yearbook.

“What are you doing, man?”, Eddie whined as he threw himself on the bed.

“Looking for my yearbook. I’m surprised I don’t remember her. The guy said Y/N, do you remember her last name?”

Of course, he did. When you were in school together, he had a few classes with you especially English. Junior year you wrote a story that the teacher made you read in front of the class about a girl who was hiding in a forest behind a tree as she watched two monsters argue about how they were going to eat her when they found her. The other kids thought you were weird but he identified with it; picturing his parents fighting as you read.

Eddie never found the courage to speak to you but he was always your hidden knight, watching over you. One of the party boys had talked about how they fucked you and how much of a freak you were so he slashed the kids tires and spray painted “Asshole” in big, bold letters on his car. You probably didn’t remember but on valentine’s day he had slipped a note in your locker that was a drawing of you battling your monsters you had written about.

“No. Come on, Harrington. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re going back anyway.”

Steve paused his search as he sat down and crossed his legs. “Why wouldn’t we go back?”

“I don’t know if you noticed but people weren’t exactly excited I was there.”

“Fuck those people. At least one person was excited. Two if you count the dog.”

“Yeah sure. Let ruin that by bringing her into our shit. Plus, it’s not like we can tell anyone or talk about what really happened.”

Steve sighed as he got up to sit beside him. “Ed, first off, there isn’t shit to bring her into. Vecna’s dead; we killed him. Secondly, we don’t have to talk about what happened…just what happens after.”

“Really? You want to play that game, Steven? He may be dead but we still got shit. Max is still in a coma, Dustin is still struggling, the town is quite literally cut in half, and ALL of us still have fucking nightmares with all that other fun post traumatic shit. Things are still so out of whack we haven’t even told our friends about us yet.”

“They have enough on their plates.”

“Exactly. So, I reiterate, why do you want to bring this girl into our chaos?”

The man sighs again as he hangs his head making Eddie feel a little guilty as he leans his head on his shoulder while reaching for his hand.

“I don’t know. There’s just something about her that makes me feel comfortable and safe.”

###########

“You came back.”

“Yeah, it took some convincing but…”, Steve grinned. “Hey Ren. May I?”, he asked before petting the lab when you nodded.

“How are you feeling today, Eddie?”

The metalhead softly smiles at you as he tilts his head in your direction. When the meeting begins you can already feel that the energy is different. One of the regulars is extremely agitated today as his leg bounces and he folds his arms. As soon as Craig reaches him, he shouts his problem as he struggles to control the volume of his voice. Your eyes close as you try to stay present and remind yourself that your safe.

No, no, no. Please. I can’t have a panic attack here in front of all these people. Everyone will look at me. They’ll think I’m weak. No, no, no.

“Y/N?”, the coordinator calls your name and you fold into yourself. “Y/N, you’re ok. You’re safe.”

Ren places his front paws on your knees as he rests his head on your shoulder. You couldn’t do this, pushing him back as you stumbled out the door into the hallway before sinking to the floor.

Your service dog continued to do what it was trained to do as he ran after you and laid beside you in your arms. The sound of your bag and a bottle of water being placed beside you startled you but you couldn’t move to acknowledge it.

You felt your head being lifted and placed on something relatively soft as you continued to try and calm down. It took a few moments but once you felt like you could breathe you opened your teary eyes to see Eddie looking towards the window.

“Hey, hey, take your time.”, Steve soothed in a soft tone when you tried to sit up. “I grabbed your bag and some water. Do you need your meds or anything?”

“C-C-Can you help me?”, you asked as you reached your arms back to try and push yourself to a sitting position. He leaned over to help you adjust as you laid against the wall with your head on the metalhead’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“I didn’t want you laying your head on the hard floor. I hope that was ok.”, Eddie tenderly grinned.

You nodded, watching heavily as Ren dug his snout in your purse before producing your medicine and placing it on your lap.

“Good boy. Steve, in there is his treats. Can you give him one?”

He smiled as he did what you asked and your dog wagged his tail happily.

“Do you need help?”, Eddie whispered.

“I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Without saying a word, he grabbed the meds from you lap and opened the bottle, shaking one into his hand and popping it closed. He placed the pill near your mouth and your eyes met his as you slowly opened, allowing him to place it on your tongue before holding the edge of the water to your lips and tipping it back.

“You’re not any trouble. I…we…appreciate you being as kind as you have been to us.”

As he extended his arm to place everything back in its proper place, his jacket sleeve slid up and you noticed some slight scaring around his wrist. When he felt your eyes on him, he followed your glance, quickly covering it up as he leaned back.

“Thank you for coming out here. You didn’t have to. I struggle with aggressiveness like what Jeremy did in there.”

“Is that not normal for him?”

“Usually, no but I imagine this earthquake and the aftermath hasn’t helped him with his flashbacks.”

“How has it been for you?”, Steve asked.

“Um, not to chaotic. I had a harder time a few months prior when this town was going crazy and playing police officers like they were the law or something. Oh shit. Eddie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even—”

“No worries, sweetheart. I’m used to it now; the stares, gossip, and questions.”

“Should you be?”

His eyes met yours again before quickly looking away as the door to the group area opened and people filed out. The man who had been yelling came over to where you were sitting and apologized in a much more gentle tone then he had previously. After accepting it and smiling towards him, you slowly wobbled to your feet with Steve helping to guide you.

“Are you ok to drive? We can take you home if you’d like.”

“No, I’m alright. I just need to eat something and get a little energy back.”

“Would you like to have dinner with us?”, Eddie offered carefully.

“Sure.”

***

As the three of you entered the restaurant, your eyes darted around as your brain did its regular anxiety check. You made sure to clock where all the exits were and how to get to them, scanned the current patrons to make sure no one was someone who would hurt you, and marked which seat you would prefer to be in just in case you needed to run.

When you glanced towards Steve, you blinked back surprise when you realized he was doing the same thing.

“I have to leave, Harrington, but get it to go and we can eat in my van. If that’s ok with you.”

You nodded, panicking slightly as he walked back out the door, unsure of what he was hiding from. To avoid another episode, you did the same leaving the other man to order. When you made it outside you found Eddie in the driver’s seat smoking a cigarette, his eyes darting to you when you climbed into the passenger’s side.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I saw Jason’s parent’s eating at a table so…”

“I never thought you killed those kids.” As soon as the words blurted out, your eyes squeezed shut. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Finger reached out to touch your arm causing your eyes to open again, meeting his kind chocolate-colored ones.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

When you apologize again, both of you let out a breathy, genuine laugh.

“When I saw on the news what happened to Chrissy, I knew you couldn’t have done it. Yeah, you were always loud in school but you were also really sweet… at least from what I remember.”

You two jumped when Steve opened the back of the van and threw himself in. “Eddie, go.”

Without any hesitation, he started to put the vehicle in gear but he wasn’t fast enough as Jason’s father appeared by his window and aggressively knocked on the glass.

“Where do you think you’re going, freak?! You’re the reason my son and his girlfriend are dead!”

“Go, Eddie!”, Steve commanded.

The metalhead slammed his foot on the gas and sped off with the man shouting behind him. The rest of the ride was silent until he parked near the hill that surveyed the town. You watched as he continued to grip the wheel like a lifeline as his chest rose and fell. You wanted to help but you didn’t know exactly how. They only thing you could think of was to grab his palm and place it on Ren’s head. The dog was used to limp pets as Eddie’s hand lazily fell down his back but he promptly rested his head on his lap as you praised him.

Steve leaned over the seat and placed his arms around him as he whispered things in his ear furthest from you. After a few moments his hand began to move against Ren’s fur making the dog’s tail wag as the other boy released him from his hold.

“Come on. Let’s eat.”

############

It was actually the perfect evening for eating outside. The van doors remained open as the three of you munched on your meals in the back. From this spot Hawkins looked different; less chaotic than it was.

While you guys ate you casually talked about yourself. They told you some general things about themselves and you did the same. Even though you felt safe with them you didn’t want to bombard them too much with the mess that was your life. You felt like they were holding back as well, omitting certain information they were afraid to tell.

“You can work from home, you know?”, you mentioned after Eddie brought up how hard it was to find a job because of who he was. “That’s what I do.”

“I could do that.”

“Wouldn’t that be hard for you, Ed? You’re very talkative and outgoing. Don’t you like thrive off of people or some shit.”

“Thrive off of people… No, Harrington. I’m not a vampire.” They grinned at each other when you giggled. “I mean it wouldn’t be much different. Everyone already thought I was a freak beforehand. Now I’m just a murdering freak.”

Everyone went silent as the metalhead turned away to glare outside.

“You should stop saying things like that.”, you murmur.

“It’s how they feel.”, he shrugs.

“Who cares how they feel. What matters is how you feel and the truth. You didn’t do it so stop saying it.” Eddie’s eyes jerked towards you as your tone got more agitated.

“Yeah, well, what would you know?”

“Eddie, stop it.”, Steve warned.

“It’s ok, Steve. I can handle this. I’m mentally ill not weak.”

“No one said you were weak, Y/N.”

“What makes you so confident I didn’t do it, hm? You weren’t there. Maybe I did.”

“Eddie…”

“No, Harrington. I’m curious. What makes her so confident? I have to know because besides my friends and my uncle you are the only person in this town who believes I didn’t do some satanic ritual to murder Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Jason. That I didn’t hurt Max to cause that fucking earthquake. Why?”

Steve angerly threw the water bottle he was drinking from hard against the inside of the van making you jump.

“Jesus Christ. Are you fucking kidding me, Ed?! We finally find one person who believes the truth and you have to fucking question it! Who gives a fuck why she believes you! Just embrace it.”

He crawls out of the vehicle and begins to pace as he lets off steam. Ren puts his head on your lap and you pet him as you watch Eddie climb out as well and hug the boy from behind, resting his cheek on his back.

“I’m sorry if I startled you.”, Steve apologized without looking your way.

“You didn’t. I…I feel safe with you, both of you. That’s why I believe you. I can’t explain it, Eddie. I wish I could. My therapist says that because of my trauma I had to learn how to read people so I could protect myself and prepare just in case. You two…I just don’t get this vibe that I need to be afraid of you.”

“Like a superpower?”, the metalhead grins softly as he comes to sit back beside you.

“You could say that.”, you giggle and his heart melts. Abruptly, you lean over and wrap your arms around his shoulders, feeling his body stiffen only for a moment before fully accepting it. “You’re a good person Edward Munson.”

Steve watches you both as he stands in front of you, also taken aback when you turn your love towards him by hugging him to, circling your arms around his lower back.

“You to, Steve Harrington.”

****

The following week you were happy to see they attended group again and seemed so much lighter than they had the other times they had come. As the meeting started, once again you felt that shift in energy.

“Y/N, I know you don’t talk much here and that’s absolutely fine. I was hoping maybe we could talk about what happened last week.”

“Oh, um, I don’t want to make Jeremy feel bad.”

“I’m ok. I want you to talk about it. It helps me understand…”

You gnaw on your bottom lip at his answer as Craig looks at you with earnest eyes. “I, um, he got aggressive and I panicked.”

“He did get verbally confrontational. Was it the yelling or what he was saying that triggered you?”

“The…yelling doesn’t…doesn’t really bother me or what is said. It…how it was being said.”

“Huh. Interesting. Please, go on.”

“My mom…was always kind of…forceful with her words…”

You don’t see it but both the boy’s protective modes had kicked in beside you especially Steve’s. It takes all his energy not to comfort you in some way. Yesterday, you had hugged him and Eddie but you three had been alone. Right now, you were in room full of people and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He settled for casually extending his legs a bit so his knee was just barely touching your own.

“I don’t want to talk anymore if that’s ok.”

“That’s fine, Y/N. How about you Steve? I noticed you and Eddie got up pretty quickly to make sure she was okay. I’m sure she appreciates that. Are you usually the protector of your friend group?”

He smirks slightly. “They would probably say I’m more like the babysitter.”

“That’s funny.”, the coordinator laughs. “I have seen you around town with some of the younger kids like Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler. You and Mr. Munson there.”

“How’s Max Mayfield doing?” Both their heads shot up to look towards the member that asked the question. “Is she doing any better? I heard her mom is wreck.”

“Jackie, you know the rules. We don’t gossip in here.”, Craig scolds.

“I’m not gossiping! Max was dating that Sinclair boy, right? Who hangs out with Michael and Dustin who apparently hang out with them so…I just want to know.”

Ren, who had been laying on the floor by your feet, suddenly sat up and waddled between Steve’s legs before lifting himself up so his head was on the man’s shoulder.

“Hug him.”, you whisper as you reach out to rub the boy’s back.

Slowly, he wraps his arms around him and pets the dog’s head. “Good boy.”

“Let’s, uh, Let’s move on to someone else.”

As the coordinator began talking to another person, Steve got up to leave as you and Eddie followed behind. Unlike you, instead of sitting in the hall, he continued to the parking lot towards his BMW.

“Steve, wait. Wait a second!”, the metalhead called to him trying to keep up.

“I’m fine. Let’s just go home.”

“If you’re fine then why are we leaving?”

“Because I know they are going to ask about her again and I don’t want to hear it so…”, he aggressively gestures towards the car.

“Isn’t that the point of this therapy group bullshit? To talk or whatever the fuck you said. This was your idea. You can’t just drag us here and then leave when it gets hard.”

“Ok, well, you know what? You were right, okay? We can’t talk about what happened so—”

“But they aren’t asking what happened. They are asking how she is. They already think they know what happened.”

“Fine! Fine, Eddie! Let’s go back in there and answer her question! ‘Oh yeah, Jackie, Max is fine. Just all of her limbs are broken and she’s in a fucking coma but hey the doctors say she’s not brain dead! Always a silver lining!’”

“Steve…what happened to her wasn’t your fault.”

“Fuck this. I’ll walk home.”

The metalhead ran in front of him, trying to block him with his body. “What happened to her, me, Dustin, and Lucas wasn’t your fault. You killed him. You, Nancy, and Robin saved us all but you’re not fucking superman, babe. You can’t be everywhere at once and can’t protect everyone.”

Steve’s head hung and they clung to each other as Eddie embraced him. When they disconnected, they were almost startled by your presence, forgetting you were there entirely.

“Hey, um, before my brain glitches, I drew you something last night.” Eddie digs in his pocket and hands you a folded piece of paper.

When you open it fully, you softly smile at the image of you in boots and a superhero style outfit with your palm in the air as a zig-zag force field surrounded you. Next to you was Ren with his tongue hanging out and mask over his eyes. At the top was bold 3D lettering that read “LADY EMPATHY” with smaller print underneath; “Senses Emotions and helps heal the innocent with her trustee four-legged side kick Anti-Depressant.”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but you loved it. No one had ever done something nice like this for you except that one time someone slide a drawing into your locker.

Your eyes met his as a light bulb went off in your head.

“Do you two want to come over to my house? We can hang out and eat some food. I would like to show you something.”

Eddie glanced at Steve who nodded his approval.

“Ok. Sounds like fun.”

****

“Wow, this place is really nice.”, Steve muses as he looks around.

“Thank you. I don’t have much but I don’t need too much so…”, you shrug as you watch them move around.

“You seem to like a lot of movies, huh?” Eddie walks around looking at your posters hanging on the wall.

“I do especially the fantasy ones. It’s nice to hide from reality in movies like The Never Ending Story or Dragon Slayer. I can’t wait for Labyrinth to come out. You know that new Bowie movie?”

The metalhead chuckles when Steve shrugs. “He doesn’t know who that is, sweetheart. Steve isn’t exactly well versed in most media.”

Your eyes widen as you head towards your sound system and push in a cassette. “Let’s Dance” flows through the speakers and he bobs his head he listens. “Pretty cool.”

Eddie laughs harder when you playfully sigh as his musical ignorance. “Yeah. Welcome to my world. What did you want to show us?”

After disappearing into your room, you come back with a frame in your arms, the image facing your body.

“When I was in high school, I was pretty good at being invisible but sometimes I wasn’t so lucky. The jocks would pick on me a lot and pretty girls like Tammy Thompson would make my life hell.” Steve sighed praying that he wasn’t one of the people who hurt you. “That was nothing compared to what I was dealing with at home. My parents…they, um, they weren’t nice with each other and sometimes…my mother would take that out on me.”

“I always loved English class because I could write about what I was feeling. One day a teacher had asked me to read something I wrote in front of everyone. I told him no but he insisted and as I stood there, I could hear people snickering. It was awful; I hate talking in front of people. But anyway, a few days later, I found this in my locker.”

You turned the frame around to display the image Eddie had drawn for you as you slowly moved toward him.

“You have no idea what this did for me. In a world full of people where I felt like no one cared, this showed me someone was listening. Someone out there did care…at least enough to take the time to draw this and give it to me.”

Eddie’s eyes met yours as he spoke. “I related to it, your story about the monsters and the kid hiding. My father used to scream at my mother until it escalated. I would always hide in my room hoping I wasn’t next.” Steve came over to stand next to him and rub his back comfortingly. “Turns out I can’t fight any monsters, can I, Stevie?”

The boy growled under his breath as his hand fell.

“You were always amazing to me. You seemed so smart and strong; I was so afraid to talk to you. I couldn’t stop thinking about your story so I drew that and slid it into your locker.”

“So…my superpower works? I was right about you. You are a good person.” You smile when he smirks in your direction. “You guys can talk to me…about anything. I won’t judge you or hurt you or anything. I trust you and I hope that you can trust me.”

They glance at each other and you see the hesitation in their look. They a definitely holding something back but you pray that one day they’ll feel comfortable enough to let you in. Little did you know, the massive secrets they could tell.

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jarofstyles · 2 years

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Best friend!H has come to play my friends.

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—-

“That excuse is not going to work on me.” Harry huffed, looking at Y/N who was sat on her couch with her arms folded to herself.

“I have fifty other excuses I could use. Do you want me to start alphabetically?”

The man rolled his eyes, plopping down next to her as he began to give her the most pathetic puppy dog pout he could muster. It always worked. Always. Y/N was a sucker for Harry and he knew it. Damn him.

“No. I want you to come with me to the bonfire and pretend to be my girlfriend so Ashley leaves me the hell alone.” He crawled on top of her, letting his weight crush her a bit as he pleaded. “Pleaseeee? Please, muffin. You know everyone already thinks we date and we have made out a few times so it’s no big deal. It can be fun! And then she will leave me alone and stop calling me every night.”

For such a big, strong man? Harry was a whiny little baby. Her best friend was an idiot but she did love him, unfortunately. But did she love him enough to go to a stupid bonfire with people she tolerated? Y/N wasn’t sure.

“First of all, call me Muffin again and I will castrate you.” Her warning was clear as she huffed, trying to push him off. It was no use as he nuzzled his head into her neck, settling there. “Second of all… why can’t you be normal and reject her instead of doing a whole scheme? I know your whole thing is being nice but we both have classes and shit. I hate bonfires, H.” She grumbled, admitting defeat in her struggle to get him off.

Y/N wouldn’t admit how much she did kind of enjoy when he did this.

Harry wouldn’t admit he knows.

“You hate them because Johnny rejected you 2 years ago at one and then you got a beer spilled on you. You’ve got to let it go, baby cakes.” He sighed, speaking against her skin. “Live laugh love, you only love once, all that shit. No sense in holding grudges, my sweet angry baby.” He snickered at his own words before hissing when she tugged at his hair, pulling his head out of his hiding spot.

“Oi. If you do that, you’ll make me hard. And as much as I love the idea of persuading you to make sweet, sweet love to me.. we have a bonfire to catch.” He wasn’t really kidding. The hair pulling did make him hard and he didn’t want it to get worse. “Oh, and I like the new shower gel. Vanilla coconut?”

“You’re actually a little freak.” She deadpanned as if the whole interaction wasn’t giving her heart problems. There was already way too much knowledge about her best friend’s kinks in her head that she was nervous about knowing. “Now get the hell off of me if you want me to go. You can sniff me and determine my shower gel usage another time.”

“Wear the sexy jeans for me!”

“Fuck off.”

—

Y/N hated it here.

Bonfires were stupid, in her humble opinion. A waste of wood for people to sneak off into the trees and have risky sex, to freeze their asses off because they hated the smell of smoke, or to wear things that didn’t make sense for the weather.

The only good part was smores and drinks, usually. But right now, she was getting to live a fantasy she didn’t usually allow herself to think about.

Playing Harry’s girlfriend was something she hadn’t done before. Everyone assumed they were dating usually and sometimes they didn’t bother to correct them but it wasn’t usually like this. His arm was wrapped around her body as he spoke, her head against his chest as they stood making small talk with people. Being the more talkative out of the both of them, Harry was talking to someone on the swim team about one of their meets and Y/N, politely, didn’t give a single fuck.

She was wrapped up in one of Harry’s flannel jackets and was quite warm even despite the nippy air, arms around his waist as he ran his free hand up and down her back in their embrace. His cup was still half full, keeping his promise to only have one drink. Y/N did not want to deal with drunk Harry tonight.

She wanted to scowl at him as she felt his hand move lower, but his whisper made her relax. “M’gonna put my hand in your back pocket, is that okay?” Despite it all, her best friend was good with consent especially in this way. They were very touchy people and he smacked her ass a lot to be funny but she had already said she didn’t mind when he did it as long as it wasn’t hard. “Promise I’ll only cop a very small feel.”

This was a new touch.

He nodded when she whispered a small ‘sure’ to him, gently placing his hand inside of the back pocket. The first thing she noticed was how big his hand was, and how fucking warm. She could feel it through her jeans, leaking heat through the fabric despite the cooler air. Harry always had been warm, but this? This was a shock.

What else was shocking was how much she actually liked it. She didn’t want to admit that at all, of course she didn’t. And she wouldn’t! But his hand was firm and warm and it felt secure. With that and leaning against his body, feeling the vibrations of his chest while he spoke, she was relaxed in a way she hadn’t been in a while. His chin resting against her head, Harry seemed to be natural in this hold with her.

It was only when she felt eyes on her that Y/N opened her own. Of course, like a dumb teenager after school movie, she was met with a glare from across the way. A girl who she was assuming was Ashley based off the way she wanted to melt Y/N’s skin off with her eyes.

“H?” She murmured, looking up at him. “I think we’ve been spotted.”

Harry took a moment to look around, hissing through his teeth. “Yeah. Definitely have been. She looks like she wants to maim you, babe.” Internally Y/N rolled her eyes, placing her hand inside of his back pocket, too. If she was here to play a role… she may as well.

“Ooooh. Touchy.” Harry teased. “Marking your territory, babe. I like it. Oh- fuck, wait. She’s storming over here. Act natural.” He ended it with a squeeze on her ass and a laugh which was interrupted by a call of his name.

“You aren’t serious.” The voice was a little nasally for her taste but Y/N blinked a few times as she looked at the girl. She was pretty! If she didn’t look like she was trying to mentally murder her. She did not need to be this weird and desperate over Harry. Y/N was sure plenty of guys or girls would want her as a hook up buddy.

“Hello.” Harry said quietly. Y/N wanted to smack him. Idiot. “What’s up?”

“What’s up? Is this why you’ve been avoiding me since I asked you to go out? You have a whole girlfriend or- whatever she is?”

Y/N laughed. She couldn’t help it. If Harry wanted a fake girlfriend, she would give him a fake girlfriend.

“Whatever I am… that’s a new one baby.” She giggled, looking at the girl. “I try and keep track of what girls say about me when they find out. But yeah. I’m his girlfriend. He’s not good at being rude but I am.” She grinned widely. “You don’t know how to take a hint. He isn’t interested. Don’t know if it has to hit you over the head to get you to see that. Rejecting you so many times only did so much so…” she shrugged her shoulders, Harry wide eyed at her behavior. He should have known better. Y/N didn’t like people being disrespectful.

“Are you going to let her talk to me like that?” The girl’s voice was shrill and made Y/N wince. Was she dumb?

“I don’t know what you’re not getting from all of this. I don’t know your name.” Lie. “All I know if you won’t leave my boyfriend alone despite him being incredibly politely and declining in ways that he hopes doesn’t hurt your feelings. But I do not care about your feelings.” Blunt. Honest. Harry squeezed her back to him as he felt her move closer, not wanting it to escalate further.

“If this was switched, you’d be disgusted at a man who can’t take a hint. A no for an answer. You’d call him a creep. You’re being a creep. Regardless if he’s single or not, you aren’t entitled to a pretty boy’s time just because you want it. You’re beautiful and it sucks your personality ruins it.”

Y/N blinked at her as the girl stood there with a flushed face, sputtering as she looked at Harry for help- but he was too busy looking at his best friend. “I’m bored. Let’s go sit.”

Y/N was done with the conversation, taking his hand and bringing him over to the blanket on the ground to sit with him. She had gone to sit next to him but Harry maneuvered her to sit between his spread legs, pulling her to lean back against him. Arms crossed in front of her, he snuggled her in for a cuddle.

“Am I wrong for thinking that was incredibly hot?”

“Please. Shut up.” She groaned, throwing her head back against his shoulder. “I can see why you needed me though. What a freak. No is no. Doesn’t matter who it is.” She was still mad about it. “You’re nice. People take advantage of that. That’s why I’ve got to be your mean guard dog.” She puffed out a breath and closed her eyes to try and recharge from the draining social experience.

“I was hoping she would see and get the hint. M’sorry.” He did feel a bit bad that Y/N had to jump to his defense that way. Harry didn’t like making her stressed out despite being her main source of eye roll material. He liked her a lot more than he could admit.

This position was another example of just how much he enjoyed being all over her.

“I’d defend you any day.” She murmured, patting his hands. “You’re an idiot, but you’re my idiot. And you’re warm. So I don’t mind playing this.” Y/N liked it far too much for her own comfort, especially when he leaned down and placed threes smooth, soft kisses on her neck. If Harry noticed the shivers, he didn’t say anything.

“Thank you.” He spoke against her neck. An excuse to cuddle her was one he never took for granted. He was the touchy one in their friendship and she tolerated it. It was rare for her to initiate so this was fun for him. “You’re the best. You smell good, and look good in my jacket too.” Harry was going to take advantage of this too, tucking his hand inside of it and resting it over her thinner cotton shirt underneath.

“I am not drunk enough for this.” She declared but made no effort to move. “But I don’t want a hangover. We could have drank the good shit at my place.” The little grumble was cute, making Harry shake his head at her ability to complain.

“Shhh. Enjoy this moment. Plus, when you drink tequila we always end up making out. You’re not human for getting the least bad hangover from that.” He truly didn’t know how the hell she was built. All he knew was she was definitely built different.

“It should probably be weird that we make out, huh?” She said after a few moments of silence. Best friends did a lot of things but she knew internally that she made out with him when they were drunk because she liked it. She enjoyed it. It never went further but that didn’t mean she didn’t think about it.

“No. It’s fun. You’re a good kisser and we’re both horny drunks. When we kiss each other it keeps from regrets with other people. And you always taste good, so.” Harry’s words were light but to him to meant a lot more. He didn’t want her to not do it with him anymore. He took any bit of her she would offer to him and that was one of his favorites. “It’s fun to kiss, but you’re the only friend I like to make out with. You aren’t afraid.” He teased, tickling her stomach.

“Oi! Are you calling me a slut!” She gasped quietly, turning her head to look at him. “I am a slut for your kisses maybe. But I haven’t gotten laid in ages. Rude, if you ask me.” She pouted, not too obvious about how nervous it made her to have his nose brush hers.

“Yeah. My little slut.” He teased, setting his hand down to playfully wrap it around her throat and move her a bit, jostling her and making her head move side to side.

Though he was joking… she couldn’t help but feel the heat between her thighs. His hand was loose around her neck but she liked the idea of tightening it and hearing those words growled into her ear. She had to stop it.

“If I’m a slut then what are you? You’re always the one to start the kisses.” She scoffed, trying not to show him how much the action effected her. Not realizing he could feel her pulse against his very fingertips.

“I never said m’not a slut. I’m your little slut too.” He sang back, though his voice was a bit deeper than before. Taking another risk, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth her lips. It wasn’t heated but it felt… different. Not in a bad way. In a way where he was sober, coherent, and her lips tasted like cinnamon sugar chapstick she had stolen from him a few weeks ago and never given back and the slight taste of beer. Their lips sticking together as she reciprocated the kiss, making his stomach turn in butterflies as he pulled back. “That’s all you get for tonight.”

Y/N’s head was swimming as he pulled back. What looked like a normal kiss between a couple to everyone else had tilted her world on its axis. Drunk kisses were easier to explain away. The butterflies and heat? Alcohol. Being horny? Alcohol. Wanting more? Alcohol. But being dead sober… and still feeling those things? Wanting his hand to squeeze her throat and his tongue to dip into her mouth, wanting him to mean it?

That was terrifying.

Still… she shook it off the best she could. Clearing her throat, she huffed and settled back to where she was, eyes closing so he couldn’t see the darkness nor the panic in them. It wasn’t his fault she couldn’t stop these feelings.

“Fucking brat. I’ll get you back for that. Just you wait.”

Harry went to reply but was interrupted by the strum of an obnoxious camp fire song starting via the guy sitting with his overly bleached hair. A look, some could say. No wonder people called him Frosty.

Right now, though, Frosty was his worst enemy.

Y/N had shut down slightly after their kiss but she didn’t pull away. Instead she grabbed his arms and placed them firmly around her body, giving him a soft smile as she settled back into him. He was nervous about what he had did but he can’t say he regretted it.

It was just confirmation to what he had already known and was too scared to admit.

He was definitely in love with his best friend.

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 2 months

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Hello Muffin and Vinelle! I have a question. How do you go about writing your dialogues? Is there a way to practice? I always struggle with that aspect of my writing and have no clue how to improve. Cheers!

Interesting question, anon, and I hope I can be at least a little helpful. As it is, I love dialogue, often my favorite part of writing.

Here's a few things I think of with dialogue.

Think About How People Talk

Think about plays, movies, and remember that while the characters see, think, and feel things what they hear is what the other person is saying. If they're participating in a conversation then they're responding to that conversation, to what another person said, how they said it, and not what they thought/things the character doesn't know.

People also speak differently than prose is written. They stumble over words, forget what they're saying. People speak in contractions unless they're a fucking asshole. People don't tend to monologue or if they do it better be a big moment/they're just weird like that.

Basically, when you're writing dialogue, keep in mind how people actually talk and the fact that in speaking with one another. Try to picture yourself sitting in the audience for a play or the set of a film, and you're watching the characters interact and following the flow of the conversation.

The conversation, whatever it is, should both sound correct (like what people would say) and make sense in that character A is believably responding to character B.

Think About How Characters Talk

How we speak is informed by who we are, where we are, and where we came from, this is true of everyone. The way a character speaks reveals not only their background but also in some cases who they want to be/what they're trying to accomplish.

And every character should have a distinctive voice that's informed by this.

Ideally, you should be able to follow a conversation of who is saying what if you had no speech tags and no descriptors. If you put the dialogue of Character A conversing with Character B you should be able to tell which is which.

Similarly, think about how they're saying something and why. Are they trying to impress someone? Are they putting on airs? Are they doing the opposite to fit in? Are they uncomfortable or at ease with their situation? Are they educated? Is English a second language?

A character should have a certain sound and you should know them well enough to know not only what they think like but what they speak like and if they're dialogue is sounding wrong in that it might be what they would say but now how they would say it.

Write What You Need, Not What You Want

Sometimes, it's very tempting as an author to just have the character say whatever you want to get across to the audience, or something they want another character to hear, because you don't know how else to do it.

It's tempting but don't fall into that trap.

Don't write what you want, what your point is, but write what the characters would say and try to find some other way to make that point or else let the point show in the subtext.

No character (well, unless it's a beautiful hilarious scene where someone's very drunk and sad) will ever say, "I love you, but I'm too damaged to say it properly because I'm a poor little meow meow!" You have to commit to what they'd actually say, even if it'd be much easier and you'd get to the 'fun' part if they just said what you wanted.

Think About What Works/What You Like

Be critical of your own work but also look to others for example. Was there dialogue somewhere you liked. If so, why? What was good about it? Why was it compelling?

I could throw out various authors here but off the top of my head I'm going to throw Hemmingway into the audience and particularly "The Hills Like White Elephants" in that it's a very believable compelling conversation between two characters we don't know but without either character telling us much information we somehow know exactly what the fuck is going on.

And Of Course... Practice

Keep writing, never settle, and improvement will be yours.

Any advice @therealvinelle?

#writing #writing advice #vinelle #therealvinelle #praise

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n0tamused · 1 year

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can you write tighnari x reader whos really into marine biology but also has a tendency to ramble (also has adhd) so they ramble about marine animals to him? especially predators like sharks or coral reefs or predatory fish? idk if i explained that well but i hope i did! thank u!

A/n: I hope I did the reader and Tighnari justice in this one, and I hope what the reader said about the marine life makes sense 👀 Here's a quick drabble for you, I loved working on this one

Genre: drabble fluff, no warnings

Character: Tighnari x gn reader

“-and sharks have very sensitive styles of living and need that big space to live comfortably. That's why you never see them in aquariums or any enclosed space, they are very hard to maintain and there is a huge probability they may end up suffering and dying.. But the lack of these animals in captivity makes everyone believe that they are even more disastrous and blood-thirsty when they are not” Your sigh of both disappointment and displeasure makes the long tar ear twitch on top of Tighanri's head as he listens to you ramble. He has long since finished the task of watering the window sill plants he kept, having put them all back into their respective places, and now he has found himself leaning back against his work-desk, facing you.

The corners of his lips pull up in a warm smile, giving you silent encouragement when your tired eyes met his, and they brightened whenever yours did. As a fellow someone who specialized in one branch of wildlife and nature, he understood the sentimental side of that knowledge. You two would often babble on and on about your respective research and work zones, listening to one another and offering what feedback you could a lot of the times, but sometimes - all one of you needed was someone willing to listen. And Tighnari was the person always willing to lend you his ear.

“Such misunderstandings are not uncommon among the citizens. One misconception may lead to a plethora of misinformation down the road, no matter how someone may want to correct it. But one thing does stand - it's that sharks can be quite scary..well, they are the predators of the ocean, and being fearful of them is natural. It is very easy for a common person to not handle an encounter with one correctly” Tighnari spoke after he saw you struggle for words, scratching your head as many more rants and info-dumps circled your mind. You can feel his presence draw near and his hand wrap around yours. His fingers easily slide into slots between yours, his warm skin and brush of nails bringing a sense of ease and comfort.

“I know.. It is all to be expected, and I cant blame the people for it. But they are such interesting creatures- all of the ocean system actually. It's all so closely tied, from the reefs supplying the environment, to the krill and to the top predators of all the oceans. I mean come on… haha. It's like a big.. complex piece of art” you both exchange an entertained, tender laugh, as you brought your other hand to mingle with him, now fully facing him. You knew he was willing to listen to you through the entire night if it meant you would be at ease in the morning to come. He was willing to sacrifice his own rest if it meant you two would glean more information from the other's work life, interests and hobbies. Tighnari did not mind, but you had to admit it had become too late from the time you began your talk about sea-shells and fish.

“Heh- it is. And the way you speak about it gives it an even magical touch. Which is a bit rare in the research field where everyone is so… tight to the facts” Tighnari softly praised, and although he was that type to stick to facts and the hard truth - even he got tired of the lack of sensitivity most of these researchers and scientists had. You were a wonderful exception, and he made sure to praise you throughout interactions with other people do. Fine art must be complimented, and just like you can't stop praising this work of art of the ocean, Tighnari can't stop spouting sweet words about you.

“Ah.. you're just saying that to shut me up faster, aren't you?” you chuckle at him, and his ears and tail stiffen, his eyes widening slightly, but he quickly catches wind of your teasing and lowers his guard, responding with a smug “Oh, yes. You just talk too much, and I just loathe to listen to some salty fish with big eyes'". He feigns a grunt when you smack his arm playfully, but he can't help but to laugh.

“You got stuck on that conversation about that coral reef near Port Ormos. Are there any new research missions being carried out?” he softly asked after he had closed in to kiss you on the forehead, leading you to the bed by your hands.

#tighnari x you #tighnari x reader #tighnari imagine #tighnari #genshin tighnari #tighnari drabble #genshin x you #genshin x gn reader #genshin x y/n #n0tamused.drabble #x reader #genshin impact

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ctitan98official · 3 months

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Anonymous: Have you ever considered writing a lactation fic for Mother Miranda? I feel like with her it'd be more complicated emotionally speaking, given that she'd likely end up thinking about when Eva was a baby

I have! I know a lot of people would rather read one about Donna or Alcina T^T But, I want to write this so I’m going to. Let’s get into it!

Miranda loves you so much.

She’s calm and gentle with the way she interacts with you. Her soft and sure voice puts you at ease. You know she only wants what’s best for you and you always make sure to follow her rules.

Over time, Miranda realizes that her feelings for you are changing somewhat. In a good way, but… Different. She’s so protective of you and wants to nurture you. She… Hasn’t had anyone who needed her this much since Eva died. If something happened to you too… She doesn’t know what she would do. As she thinks about all of the horrible things that could happen to you, she feels true terror.

However, once Miranda has calmed down from the scary scenarios that plague her, she becomes aware of another feeling. Something more… Maternal? Yes, that’s exactly what it is. Miranda wants to… Be your mommy.

Miranda’s mind flicks back to when Eva was a baby. So small and precious. She feels the exact same way towards you. It brings back a lot of memories for Miranda. Rocking Eva to sleep, playing with her… Breastfeeding her. Miranda’s face turns red. She… Would very much like to nurse you as well. It is a very intimate experience and the thought of being able to nourish you makes her… Excited.

Miranda, always one to immediately test her theories, quickly sets about the task of creating a supplement that will cause lactation. It doesn’t take long, surprisingly, but she predicts that it will take a while after she starts taking them to see results.

Eventually, Miranda’s deduction ends up being correct.

A few weeks later, you haven’t really noticed how engorged Miranda’s breasts are. However, Miranda basks in the familiar sensation of her body beginning to produce milk for her baby. It makes her feel important and she can’t wait to nurse you. The only problem is… Actually telling you.

One morning, Miranda notices her breasts beginning to leak when she’s in the lab. She gasps at the sensation. Her shirt has two wet spots around her nipples. It’s time. She immediately goes to find you… She is hoping you will at least be open to the idea of her breastfeeding you.

“Draga mea.” She calls when she enters the house.

You speedily come over to give her a hug. “You’re back!” You exclaim. Miranda has a schedule that she sticks to and never finishes this early.

Miranda can’t help but smile as she holds you in her arms. You are too cute. “Hello, my darling.” She says and kisses your head.

“I’m glad you’re here. I missed you a lot.” You confess. It’s hard not being around Miranda. You want her with you always. It makes you feel safe and relaxed. You definitely have separation anxiety when it comes to her.

Miranda chuckles sadly. “I’m sorry I’m always gone so long, my love.” She tells you and strokes your cheek. She’s going to have to start limiting her time in the lab so she can care for you properly. She looks at you and falls even more in love. “Y/N, I have something I want to tell you.” She says softly.

You suddenly look at her warily. “Okay.” You murmur. What could she be about to say. Is it bad or good?

“Here, come sit on the couch with me.” She says and gently leads you by the hand to sit down.

You cuddle into Miranda’s side and she holds you close. “Y/N, I… Must confess something.” She says.

You look up at her in confusion.

“I… Love you so much, Y/N and… There is something I would like to do with you.” She tells you and cups your face. “I want to… Be your mommy, Y/N. I feel so protective of you and want to nurture you.” She admits.

Your eyes grow wide. You’ve felt yourself becoming more reliant on her, so… This is a dream come true. You smile and quickly hug her tighter. You would be totally lost without Miranda. You really need her. This is a no-brainer. “I want that too… You’re my mommy?” You ask shyly, burying your face in her shoulder.

Miranda almost purrs in satisfaction at what you just called her. She is so thankful that you like the idea. “Yes, my baby.” She says, looking down at you. “Mommy loves you so much.” She says as she rubs your face and kisses your forehead. “Are you hungry, draga mea?” She asks.

You wiggle happily. “Yeah!” You say. How did she know?

Miranda grins. She can always tell what you need. “Can mommy feed you?” She asks, stroking your head.

You nod at her. Warm feelings start overtaking you and you can’t seem to talk anymore.

“Y/N, can mommy… Breastfeed you?” She asks, hoping you will be okay with this.

You are surprised, however… You nod once again. You would like that.

Miranda beams at you. “Such a good baby.” She tells you. Miranda sits up straight. She takes her shirt and bra off before easily picking you up and taking you into the other room. She buries her face in your hair before sitting down in the rocking chair that she used to rock Eva in. She feels a pang of sorrow as she situates you. She misses her so much. Miranda feels like nursing you will be healing. She snuggles you and softly guides her nipple into your mouth.

You instantly suckle and Miranda gasps at the sensation. It feels… So amazing. The relief of the painful twinges in her breasts is wonderful. Her body is flooding with endorphins as she begins to feed you. This is so natural and comforting.

“So good, baby.” Miranda praises and runs her fingers through your hair. She begins rocking softly in the chair. She can’t help but feel emotional. The last time she did this was for Eva. A few tears slip down her cheeks, but she quickly wipes them away. She doesn’t want you to see her crying and be worried about her. She is so grateful to have you. She starts humming a melody and you feel truly safe.

Eventually, you stop suckling for a second to look up at her lovingly. She’s the only thing that exists at the moment. You babble happily at her, unable to voice how content you are, but wanting her to know.

Miranda smiles at you and gets the message. She kisses your cheek before she gently places her nipple back in your mouth. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. Mommy’s right here.” She soothes. She cradles your head to her chest and begins humming once again. She’s an expert. Eva was very vocal when she fed. Whether she was feeling happy or wanted to fuss instead of eating, she made sure to let her desires be known to her mommy. Miranda learned how to anticipate her needs. She knows that in the future, she will be able to lull you back into feeding easily because of that experience.

Miranda kisses your head and you feel yourself growing sleepy. You begin to doze off.

“Rest, little one. Rest and dream.” She says quietly. “Mommy will be here when you wake up.” She says.

You continue to suckle as you fall asleep. This is everything you’ve ever needed. You love her so much.

Masterlist

#re8 #re8 village #mother miranda #mother miranda x y/n #mother miranda x reader #resident evil village #resident evil imagines #resident evil 8 #resident evil #re8 shitpost #lactation #breastfeeding #age regression #nonsexual age regression

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genderkoolaid · 1 year

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Recently I have been encountering a number of people wrongly pinning their frustration with transandrophobia on trans women.

I am not saying this to decry the discussion of transandrophobia and I am aware this topic is mentioned in your pinned post,

I just believe this topic needs some attention and was interested in what you might have to say — especially if there's any message you'd like to send to those who may be slipping into a "us vs. them" perspective without realizing. (/np)

I guess my message is:

Blaming other trans people for your own group's oppression is a huge part of the reason the discussion around transandrophobia, especially online, is important. We can't be (rightfully) upset about being blamed for the trans communities transmisogyny (frequently just for talking about our own oppression), and then turn around and give the same treatment to trans women.

The thing we need to internalize is: the vast majority, if not all, of shitty behavior is born out of some kind of pain/fear. That doesn't justify it, but the hard truth is that if an animal is lashing out and hurting people, beating that animal isn't actually the best way to fix the problem long-term unless your goal is to kill every scared animal you come across. Its tempting to get bitter when other people, especially other people you should be able to trust, treat you badly and its tempting to write them off entirely as untrustworthy and dangerous. And no one should be forced to be play nice with someone who is treating them badly- you should be able to cut off those people when you need to. But when dealing with community issues in a marginalized group like this, we need to understand that we are all traumatized and scared and living in a society that wants us all dead or at least suffering. And right now, we are all screaming and kicking and biting each other and its not helping any of us get any safer or happier.

Get angry! Get betrayed! Let yourself be hurt that other trans people hurt you when we should be helping each other! You are entirely right to feel that way. But feeling =/= action. Let yourself feel without acting on that feeling, and then remind yourself that

The loudest assholes are not representative of every single person; especially when the loud assholes are often the reason other people don't speak openly

The people who hurt you are very likely just as hurt as you are, and letting yourself become just like them only perpetuates the cycle of lateral violence and keeps us oppressed. (Trans)unity is life.

And then resist the urge to do things like misrepresent arguments in extremely bad faith, or suicide-bait, or incorporate sweeping statements about trans women into your beliefs, or play into transmisogyny for the sake of "getting back" at either trans women who hurt or, worse, trans women who didn't have anything to do with them at all!!

There's a tendency for very hurt and angry people, especially those who have been forced to keep their pain silent and unvalidated, to hear stuff like "the people who hurt you were also in pain and deserve compassion and support" and immediately feel like they are being told that their pain doesn't matter, that everything that was done to them is excused, and the people who hurt them are the real victims. Which is why I stress that you need to let yourself feel how you feel, without acting on it or accepting it as objective truth. Repressing or resisting your feelings just makes them rot, and then when you do feel them, they are overwhelming and even harder to reason your way through. Let yourself have the time to deal with your frustration without taking it out on trans women- if that means not interacting with trans spaces (or just mixed-trans spaces), or not going on social media, then don't do those things. If you find yourself falling into transmisogynistic thoughts out of pain, take note of it, ask why you thought that, and then see how you can correct yourself (i.e "all trans women are bigoted and dangerous" -> "trans women are people and can be bigoted like anyone else, and the behavior of some has really hurt me, especially when others dont call it out"). Let your emotions happen while also keeping in mind the truth that unity is vital, and keep returning to that truth when you need a reminder.

When you are comfortable enough with how your pain that its validity doesn't feel threatened by acknowledging the people who hurt you's humanity, then you can engage it discussions and debates to try and fix these issues and work to stop that cycle of lateral violence. But that cycle can only stop if we make the choice to not keep lashing out at each other out of pain. At some point, one of us has to stop screaming and kicking and biting, even though they are also in pain, and ask "hey, maybe if we all stop jumping to our most instinctive response every time we hurt each other, maybe we can all finally stop hurting each other?"

#this is how i deal w a lot of my frustration when it comes to transandrophobia ''discourse''#m.#ask box #transunity

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brightgnosis · 5 months

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Whining About Community Means Nothing When You Continue To Poison The Well

It never ceases to amaze me exactly how much the people in the Pagan / Witchcraft / Occult blogosphere here on Tumblr will whine, and haw, and cry about the "lack of community" here, and how "no one talks to one another anymore", and how "Tumblr's Witchcraft / Pagan / Occult Community is dying" ... But will then go on, afterwards, to continue making absolutely zero true and legitimate effort to correct that, or be the very change they constantly complain that they want to see in the Tumblr blogosphere.

They won't leave comments on posts- nor will they respond to comments left on their posts ... They won't send asks to people anymore ... They won't ask questions about things that are new to, intrigue, or even confuse them ... They rarely reblog anything that isn't another regurgitated "educational post"- and they certainly don't write any kind of original (non-educational, diary or journal like) posts about their own experiences or practices anymore, either (and instead always insist on branding themselves as Grimoires, Teachers / Educators, or Aesthetic blogs) ... They generally just refuse to build well networked community connections as a whole ... They no longer really bother to correct misinformation, or go out of their way to help practitioners find solid information- including referring them to practitioners who actually know the subjects being asked about.

Instead they repeatedly, actively, seem to go out of their way to be the exact opposite of everything that actually makes any kind of a community work and function.

Just throwing the barest bones hyper-regurgitated information (that's frequently incorrect, and sometimes made up of outright lies) out there, and stepping into lanes that often aren't even theirs in the process ... Handwaving away all legitimate educational or conversational attempts made in good faith as "to each their own" instead of actually fully engaging with peers and having dialogues about different ways of thinking, working, and being ... Expecting nothing short of absolute perfection even from the newest members- and being completely unwilling to accept any new information themselves, on top of it ... Acting in bad faith, with a bad attitude towards others; assuming everything said and done towards them is in bad faith, too ... Automatically blocking people for no legitimate reason- and frequently either (1) Without any actual interaction with them first; or (2) Just on an automatic assumption of foul play, bad faith, negativity, or general difference in method or belief leading them to act persecuted and be offended- when in reality they could've just asked for clarification; opened a dialogue and built a real bridge ... Making zero effort to actually speak to others around them and build bridges at all in general.

The list just keeps going on for eternity- and none of the actions are really good or conscionable.

Genuinely: How on Earth can you claim to want community when you maintain a vicious wall of self isolation which you refuse to let down for even a nanosecond, and are intent on being virulent and hostile towards the very people you would be in community with? Genuinely: How on Earth do you claim to desire interconnection and unity when you are completely unwilling to accept (or even tolerate) any amount of perceived difference in belief and practice- and are unwilling to attempt to understand or learn about those differences outside of the bubbles and echo chambers you have placed yourself in? Genuinely: How on Earth do you claim to stretch out your hand in Companionship when it is still stained red and you hide a knife behind your back, waiting for someone to make the first, slightest, perceived misstep so that you can attack them? Genuinely: How on Earth do you expect to build any semblance of community when you continuously tear down the very supports it needs to stand on in the first place? Genuinely: How on Earth do you claim to want community, when you do nothing but poison the community well where we would all drink in the first place?

To quote something I all too often have to, from a similar conversation had far too long ago on this very same platform (because we've unfortunately had it many, many a time, and the lesson never seems to get learned): "You cannot poison the well and then wonder why no one drinks from it" ... To form Community, you must first quit poisoning the well. Until you do that, you will never be able to do anything but continue whining about its lack.

This is an opinion piece based in 20+ years of experience. If you found this helpful or interesting, please consider Tipping or Leaving a Ko-Fi (being Disabled, even $1 helps); you can see my other "Original Content" here.

This account is run by a Dual Faith «(Converting) Masorti Jew + Traditional NeoWiccan» & «Ancestral Folk Magic Practitioner» with 20+ years of experience as a practicing Pagan and Witch. If that bothers you, don't interact.

#Something Something 'You Can't Continue To Poison The Well And Then Wonder Why No One Drinks' In Regards To Community Survival #Original Content #2023 #Original Social Content #Original Witchy Content #Communicating Beautifully

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haphazardcorvid · 7 months

Text

I don't usually post anything about qsmp (or post at all because I have difficulties with communicating myself online, so if the tone or wording is weird or off-putting, I apologise) but I kinda wanted to share some thoughts on how the Meta unintentionally affects the rp, especially in the case of members going missing.

(Also this will be Long. I'm sorry. Concise writing is a gift I do not possess.)

This isn't like, the fault of the members or storyline, but I think it what inevitably happens on a server where RP and planned character lore blur with complete casual play where it's just... Real people interacting. This isn't even really criticism, just observation, because there's really no blame or fixable issue. Nobody is at fault, it's simply A Thing That Can Happen, especially when the server prides itself on spontaneity and leaving the characters AND creators in the dark (which is a thing that overall makes the qsmp really exciting) about the larger lore and other characters lore.

The Meta of real life can really influence the rp reactions, however unintentionally, and I'm mostly noting it in the case of characters going missing. For what I think is the best example, when q!Baghera was missing for AGES, I genuinely think there should have been a much bigger in-character server reaction than the one we saw? Especially considering how active she is and her wide array of friends and family. (Correct me if you saw otherwise, it just seemed more minimal from my non-french speaking pov, maybe I'm wrong).

The issue seems to stem from the creators themselves knowing that the other creator is simply on hiatus because of real life things, and that bleeds into the rp unintentionally, especially when their character didn't see the missing one actually go missing. It felt similar with Jaiden, but also less so, because she wasn't as active as Baghera and wouldn't be interactive for long periods after Bobby's death. She's still a good example though.

So the characters don't know where their friend is or even if they're not around for a bad reason, but the players know the fellow player is doing Stuff and can't come online, and it seems to muddle the rp reaction. Probably because it's not heavy scripted RP - they react blindly to events and often their characters are just extensions of themselves. (Tbh it didn't help with q!Baghera that they just got new people, and then the eggs disappeared, so all other thoughts just flew out the window). I just wish she'd gotten a stronger reaction, and genuinely think real life meta affected that. Like with some perspectives (q!Phil, for example) it was hard to know she was actually Missing missing (nobody mentioned it).

I think this is inevitable when the approach to rp is more heavily Reacting rather than Acting (there's acting too, but qsmp scripting seems to act more like guidelines than dictated interactions). It pops up a lot - when Etoiles was in America (tbf his character is more Lone Wolf, Mr 200k), Jaiden, etc. Then, because that person physically can't come online in real life, and there's often zero clues or puzzles about their whereabouts, it flatlines or peters out until their return because nobody can do anything and their characters don't know anything (often the creators too, it seems, because everyone is very averse to metagaming for good reasons). The casual side of gameplay means it becomes just people waiting for their friend to be available again.

On a funny note, you can get around some of this the Pac Mike way, by simply being kidnapped/vamoosed directly in front of your loved ones/friends. Instant Oh Shit reactions, the possibility for extending angst (q!Pac you sad angsty legend) the whole shebang - although you can still get the side effect of characters seeming to care less too fast, because it blurs with the players just comfortably waiting for their friend to come back from hiatus. In fact, it seems the best way to get a reaction from a Missing storyline is to vanish in front of someone, or leave breadcrumbs before or after the event. The Brazilians do that super well.

This meta bleed could also go the opposite way, which is why I'm so curious about q!Fit and q!Tubbo noticing q!Phil's disappearance. In that case it might mean they notice he's gone (in rp) unnaturally quickly, because they know his schedule of streaming and the fact that he's not going away in real life this week, and that he was most likely going to stream on monday, which could tip them off, but isn't necessarily an in character reason. There are other in rp explanations - he tells them whenever he's going away, they've antagonised the feds, he said he'd be around, etc - but I'm curious about the Meta, because realising today would be very fast. It's why I think it would be good if there were more breadcrumbs left so it isn't so affected by real life (because they could also lean the other way and ignore it too much because of metagaming). Hints or something of that ilk.

There's also the matter of scripting. Like I know Phil and Forever have been messaging about lore to ensure rp etiquette isn't broken and they get to do all the ideas they have planned. It does turn reacting into acting, but eh, I think a good balance of both is necessary, as much as we the audience love genuine shock and discovery. The creators absolutely plan things behind the scenes, and maybe Baghera didn't put so much weight on the rp reactions to her being gone? I don't know their minds, so I can't speculate. Doesn't change what I think about the Meta affecting it though.

I dunno. This is just one long ramble, because I was disappointed in the more lacking reactions to long absences, especially in the case of Baghera, and wanted to dissect one of the things I think is influencing it. I could just be chatting rubbish. It's not a blame game of 'oh they're doing this wrong' but genuinely something I find interesting. I love the server and the way we react to discoveries WITH the creators themselves, not just the characters, it's just an interesting thought. I just wish there had been more storyline connected to other ccs about Baghera being missing, because her lore is SO good. I wanted the Angst, goddamit.

#Anyways I don't know what I'm talking about #And I don't know what I'm doing #How the fuck do people talk online all the time #Just didn't see anyone mentioning this so I finally posted something #That could just mean nobody said it because it's bullshit please tell me if it's bullshit I don't know how to read the room #qsmp #qsmp baghera #qsmp philza #qsmp Jaiden #qsmp forever #qsmp etoiles #qsmp pac #qsmp mike #qsmp rp #Please keep in mind I'm coming from a chronically English monolingual pov

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