#I need to write them being trans and soft about it more often i think
'Cause We're One and the Same
This fic was inspired by this art from @itsrapsodia -- I got this scene of the two of them together stuck in my head and ended up writing it! (As a... general sort of trigger warning, Jaskier opens the fic by making a joke about not having a penis; my intention was that he experiences little-to-no bottom dysphoria and being both slightly drunk and around trusted friends, he’s comfy stating that.)
"--and that fucking Valdo Marx," Jaskier says, gesticulating wildly with his thankfully mostly-empty mug, "always sauntering around like he's so much better than everyone else just because he managed to get a court position straight out of Oxenfurt instead of slumming it like the rest of us, and all the rest of-- them," with a peculiar emphasis on the word that Geralt has no clue what it means but Priscilla and Essi clearly do, "acting like they're so much better than us."
Priscilla makes a sharp noise of agreement and sets her glass down on the table with a thunk. "It's like it's all just a contest to them, who can get the most popular song or the biggest royal patronage or--"
"It's a dick-measuring contest, is what it is," Jaskier says with finality, thumping his hands on the table, and Geralt snorts.
"Which you're exempt from?"
"Geralt, darling, I think by virtue of not having a dick--"and his mouth snaps shut, eyes going wide and startled. “Shit.”
"Um," says Priscilla, and then leans over and says in a furious whisper "you haven't told him?!"
"No, I haven't," Jaskier mutters, seeming almost-- shocked, "it never came up, and he can hear you."
Geralt hums to indicate that he can, in fact, hear them both, and turns his gaze on Jaskier. The bard is growing paler by the moment, all the blood draining from his face, and for the first time since they met Geralt can smell-- fear? Just the barest traces of it, overlaid with alcohol and nerves, but it's the first time it's been really, truly, directed at him.
Jaskier's fingers are rattling on the tabletop, off-beat and out of rhythm, and then he shoves himself up and away with far more force than necessary. "I'm-- getting some air. Don't wait up."
"Jaskier--" Geralt says, half-reaching out to him, but Essi puts her hand on his wrist and pushes it back down, firmly, and Priscilla gives him a glare that could curdle milk as Jaskier ducks through the growing crowd inside Three Little Bells. He's had worse glares from Lambert, but there's something about seeing Jaskier so shaken from what seemed to be nothing more than a slip of the tongue that leaves him... unsettled.
He shakes off Essi's arm and rises to go after him, to make sure the bard's okay, but Priscilla catches him by the fabric of his sleeve. "Leave him." He blinks at her, and she levels him with that glare again. "He doesn't need you barging in after he's already said too much," and Geralt looks at her, really looks at her and how much she cares, and dips his head.
"If he comes back, tell him I'll be in the room." She keeps glaring at him, fierce and protective, but very deliberately lets go of his sleeve, and he walks away before he can start to think about-- whatever it was that just happened
He's carefully cleaning his steel sword when Jaskier comes stumbling back into the room, still pale-faced but with the scent of alcohol no longer quite so pungent from him. He's sobered up a bit, then, and Geralt very carefully sets the sword to the side, folds his hands in his lap and tries to look as unintimidating as possible. It's late enough that the tavern is quiet now, and he's had plenty of time to think about what he wants to say to the bard. There’s a lot of secrets he hasn’t wanted, or even had the chance to tell, but he’s beginning to think--
Better to see what the bard says first, though.
He hums in response, not quite sure how to start... whatever this is. Jaskier closes the door behind him with exaggerated care, and then doesn't move from the middle of the room, scratching at his lute calluses in the familiar nervous gesture, the tension radiating off of him in a cloud. Literally; Geralt can smell it.
"I should probably. Um. Explain."
Geralt nods, and then seeing how Jaskier goes that much paler, huffs and clambers to his feet to haul out the room's single chair. "Sit down before you fall down."
"Ah. Thanks?" It's almost more a question than anything else, but Geralt nods in what he hopes is a reassuring manner and retreats back to the bed.
"Right. So. I should... probably tell you. What I meant by-- by that." Jaskier flounders, hands fluttering wildly through the air, and settles on "I-- I wasn't born a-- a man."
It's only one of the answers Geralt had been prepared to hear, but it settles something reassuring in his gut, that there's more common ground between them than only a few years of shared adventures. "Neither was I."
"I know it's not exactly-- talked about, but I promise you it's very real and I really am a man and if you don’t think that’s true we are going to have-- hang on, what?"
"I wasn't born a man."
"But you're--" and he flaps his hands in Geralt's general direction, "I mean, you-- I've never seen you-- really?"
"And you're not just saying that to make me feel better, in some twisted... I'm-an-outcast-from-society-and-I-don't-understand-basic-etiquette-like-not-telling-bards-they're-pitchy-to-their-face kind of way?"
Geralt lifts an eyebrow, carefully not commenting on the fact that he had been pitchy, and Jaskier lets out a sound that might be a laugh and might be a sob. "Right, yeah, when do you ever care enough about my feelings to do something like that. Fuck, Geralt, you can't just-- spring that on a fellow. I mean-- gods, here I was worried that you'd be... weird about it, and instead you're--"
"As dickless as you are?"
"Oh, fuck off," but the fear-scent is gone, the color slowly coming back into his cheeks, and he slouches back into his chair in a boneless heap. "Gods. I-- thanks, by the way."
"For... for trusting me, I guess? I mean it can't exactly be the kind of knowledge you want getting out there, what with witchering being... witchering."
Geralt shrugs. His brothers all know, of course, and so did most of the Wolf School before the pogrom -- hard to keep secrets like that with communal bathing, and there were always a few of his kind -- their kind, now -- in every school. "Most people just... assume."
"Right, yes, what with the whole... big grumpy manly... man look you've got going on there. How did you do that, by the way, some kind of potion? Transformation spell?"
"The Trials," Geralt says, trying to hide the flinch that comes with the memory, even after all these years. "They made us all like this."
"Ah," says Jaskier, and falls silent, not quite looking at him, or at anything in particular.
"Are you--" Geralt starts, the dim memory of before the Trials and the horrible sense of not fitting into his own skin surfacing unbidden, and Jaskier must read something in the look on his face because he nearly lunges forward out of his own chair.
"No! No, I'm-- I'm happy, really, Geralt, I promise. Just, uh, teensy bit jealous, you've got the whole--" and he makes another of those flailing gestures that only really manages to indicate where Geralt is in the room rather than anything in particular about him, "muscles and jawline and stubble thing really going for you."
"You can grow a beard too," because he can, he saw it when Jaskier's razor broke in the middle of Kaedwen and he couldn't get a replacement for a week and a half.
"I can!" and Jaskier grins, impossibly wide. "There's a-- a potion, there's a mage in Novigrad that makes it, it's why I'm here, actually, and it's what makes me, well--" and he gestures proudly to himself, to the long trim line of his torso and the shadow of dark stubble on his jaw and Geralt can't stop the half-smile that grows across his face because even though it's been sixty years and more he still remembers the impossible joy of finding a skin that fit.
Jaskier grins back at him, bright and brilliant and throws himself forward to wrap his arms around Geralt's shoulders in an abrupt embrace. Geralt can smell the happiness rising off of him and for once he doesn't stop himself from holding the bard back, because-- There were others like him, at Kaer Morhen, but they all died in the pogrom a long, long time ago and it's been... lonely, since.
"Thanks," Jaskier says, softly.
"For being here," and Geralt only hums and holds him tighter.
484 notes · View notes
Hey guys just letting you know - if you see my twf art on redbubble up for purchase, that isn’t me selling it. I don’t have a means of receiving any payment online and to date I never have, so there isn’t any way I could set up a means of selling my artwork whatsoever. Anyone selling my artwork is not to be trusted, and for the record, no, I do not and never would give someone else the go ahead to sell my own work. The only one I’d feel safe with selling my art is myself. The people selling my art on redbubble have not reached out to me in advance for permission to use my work and for all intents and purposes they are stealing my artwork and using it for their own profit. This revelation is extra upsetting to me because without a storefront to sell stuff on, there’s no official alternative I can offer to this. I cant receive compensation for this. I know art theft on redbubble is as common as seeing fish in the ocean but this stings a lot more considering my art gets stolen/used without credit all the time but at least then there’s the chance I can reach out to the person using my art to get them to either take it down or credit me. I cannot do such a thing in this case, and even if I could, I’m on vacation with my family and I don’t have the time to worry about this sort of stuff. So the most I can do is make you all aware of the different art styles and indicators of my art so you can spot people stealing my content more easier.
vibrant/dulled vibrant colors (this can vary from piece to piece)
chunky, thick outlines
very angular and cartoonish
this is my main style as it’s easier to draw in
simplified, limited color palette
big cartoony eyes with smaller pupils that can often look exaggerated to push the expression of the drawing
softer more rounded body proportions, designs have a clear use of shape and are very simplified
thin-medium sized lines
shading and lineart often done in greys
semi-realistic yet still cartoony proportions
shares a lot with style 2 (same color palette, warm tones, grey shading, has a “soft” look)
painterly, fully rendered, lineless style
lush expansive toned-down colors with lots of red typically included
dreamlike, surrealistic imagery
use of blockier shapes
This is nowhere near all the styles I use as I tend to switch things up a lot, these are just the styles whose pieces get a lot of notes (often in the thousands) and therefore have a higher risk of being stolen and used for profit without my knowledge.
Another thing you should note is that nearly all of my art contains a signature - it’s really simple, it’s just the first initial of my name, Jack, stylized as “J.” with a dot at the end. This is how you can tell that a piece was made by me.
Thankfully, it’s also something a lot of these resellers tend to forget to crop out.
Idk how to end a post like this because i am not used to this type of situation happening to me. Again at the time of writing I’m on a vacation with my family so I don’t want to have to think about this, and I can’t really get involved anyway. So if you browse redbubble (and i’m not familiar with how redbubble works) I ask that if you see my work under a name that is not me, find a way to report it and get it removed.
Even if you’re not a fan of twf or you’re just a mutual of mine I encourage you to share this post around, as I’m a poor disabled nd trans artist and I need all the recognition and credit I can get from my work. Also instead of buying uncredited work you can just like….reblog my art instead? LOL i dunno. I just hope this situation gets resolved quickly as I’m so fucking tired of not getting credit for my work -_-
267 notes · View notes
Stucky Fic Recs
So basically I went through all of my ao3 bookmarks and collated a list of some of my favourites (I couldn't fit all of them on this list, so if anyone shows interest there might be a part two).
Please read tags and descriptions of the works before reading, some of them are pretty dark or extremely horny so just make sure you check that the fic is for you!!
Please please please send me your favourite fics in return! I am always happy to hear fic recs, headcanons and any other ideas/comments you all have!
Without any further ado, here are a few of my favourite Stucky fics:
‘Not Easily Conquered’ series by dropdeaddream, WhatAreFear
Rating: M, Words: 117,692
“I told you, you heard me: I told you never to follow me into Hell. Now I’m not vain enough to think that’s why you’re out here now — if there’s any person in what’s left of this God forsaken planet who’s part of a bigger picture, it’d be you. But I’ll keep saying it until it sticks. You got nothing to prove. I’m not worth much, I damn well know that, but I’ll ask you anyway: Stay for me. If you leave me alone in this world I’ll turn into something terrible. I’ll turn into the nasty creature that’s growing inside me. This war, it’ll swallow me whole”
[To me, this fic is like the classic Stucky 101 fanfic – if you're a Stucky fan and you haven't read this, I highly recommend it. The authors explore the Steve/Bucky relationship in such an interesting, tragic, emotive way and I cry every time I read it. I couldn't praise this work enough.]
‘Ain’t No Grave’ series by spitandvinegar
Rating: M-E, Words: 131,789
"Yeah, he never calls me by my name," Steve says. "It's always champ, ace, hotshot, that kinda thing."
"Man, that is flirting," Sam says. "That nicknames thing, he is flirting with you. He's just working his way up to calling you baby or something."
Steve goes redder than a damn coke can. Sam pumps his fist. "Yes, I am so right, I am wise as hell. He did, didn't he?"
"He called me sweetheart," Steve says grimly, "because he's a drug addict with brain damage."
"Or because he looooooves you," Sam says. Captain America throws a cookie at his head. Sam eats it, because he deserves a treat for being so damn wise.”
[I'm currently re-reading this fic and absolutely loving it. The way spitandvinegar writes Bucky's road towards recovery and Steve's entire characterisation – it's all just so good. It's another one that covers some pretty dark themes, so make sure you're checkin those tags!]
'Einherjar' by thecommodore_squid
Rating: M, Words: 71297
But Steve was fine.
Sure, he hadn’t seen Bucky in months, and sometimes he was at the punching bag so long that his skin started to peel off to expose the bones of his fingers, and sometimes he couldn’t find the energy to drag himself out of bed, and sometimes he went weeks without sleeping, and sometimes he thought about throwing himself head-first off the nearest tall structure, but he was fine.
He was absolutely, perfectly, one-hundred percent, fucking fine.
In which Steve learns how to deal with his shit, and Bucky learns how to stop leaving.
[basically the definition of a recovery fic, I absolutely adore it. This is tragic and amazing and makes me cry and smile. It’s got a bunch of fantastic cameos and It really just ticks so many of my boxes.]
‘Like real People do’ by 2bestfriends
Rating: E, Words: 67,775
“"Ask me what?" demands Bucky. "I didn't hear a question."
Steve licks his lips. "Will you stay with me? Will you come back home, Buck?"
"Home," repeats Bucky in a small voice, and then he's crying for real.”
[Basically soft lumberjack!steve and lonely twink!bucky being horny and in love. This is a comfort fic for that’s really just about my favourite boys falling in love.]
‘This City Bleeds it’s Aching Heart’ by anonymous
Rating: E, Words: 34,537
“The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.”
[The plot in this one is just a good time and i think it’s just a really fun take on the fake relationship trope. Also some really great characterisation.]
‘Home is Wherever I’m With You’ by cydonic
Rating: E, Words: 88,570
“Bucky kisses Steve and Emma goodbye before they leave for school, which is why – partway down the road – Amelia turns to him and asks, “why are you and Daddy kissing?”
Which is definitely a conversation Bucky’s been expecting since Steve just did it, but it still takes him by surprise. Again, he thinks he should wait for Steve, but Amelia’s not the sort of kid to let anything rest. Plus, Bucky’s taking her to school where she will undoubtedly share the story with anyone who’ll listen.
He also stops to think that Steve’s asked him to stay, which means Bucky must be trusted with their happiness and well-being, at least in some small capacity.
Bucky clears his throat and searches for some explanation that will help Amelia make sense of this sudden turn of events. “Because we love each other,” is all he comes up with.”
[Bear with me, this is a House Flipper!Bucky Au. And dad!Steve. I just love a found family trope I’m not gonna lie to you. Another comfort fic that warms my lil heart.]
‘Lucky Seven’ by BetteNoire (WeAreWolves)
Rating: E, Words: 94,364
“Back from where--?” James says, the sentence ending in a distinctly undignified squawk as Steve sweeps him up in his arms, bridal-style, and starts carrying him upstairs.
James tenses momentarily then relaxes into Steve's arms and throws back his head and starts laughing. The laughter peals out of him, his body shaking, his amusement occasionally broken by little gasps of pain.
“What's so funny?” Steve frowns.
“You are,” James says, still giggling. “You're ridiculous, Steve Rogers.”
“Behave. Or I will drop you,” Steve growls.
[The shrunkyclunks modern AU of my dreams featuring Mechanic!Bucky and cap!Steve and some really beautiful writing.]
'Dishonor On Your Cow' by mandarou
Rating: E, Words: 111695
“Oh, hell no, don’t call him that, man,” Sam warned.
“Captain Fuck Off!” Barnes shouted over him. “Fight me!”
Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.
“I’m gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,” Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnes’s struggling under him. “This is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.”
“Captain goddamn America!” Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.
Steve cleared his throat again. “I’ve been looking for you,” he told Barnes.
“I hope you brought lube this time!” Barnes shouted.
[I’m not gonna lie it took me a minute to get into this one but by the end I was crying with them, laughing with them, and just really in my feels. Some very insane things happen so here’s a few of my favourite tags: ‘Seargent Barnes is done with your Shit Steve’, ‘blatant disrespect of a man’s motorcycle’, ‘Steve you ding dong’ and ‘PR nightmares in the form of Supersoldiers’.]
Propietary Information by Notlucy
Rating: E, Words: 85141
“Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.”
[We were never gonna get through this list without a Sugar Daddy!AU (I have a weakness). This one is… saucy and sexy and sweet and uh pretty kinky so read the tags and all. I’ve read it a few times, and I love the way the author has written Steve in this one, he just makes my heart go '!!!']
‘Roots Have Grown’ by AustinB
Rating: M, Words: 17280
“Bucky is a mildly agoraphobic veteran with funds to spare, who becomes enamored with the cute blonde guy in his building.
So when Steve mentions needing a roommate to cut down on rent costs, Bucky decides it would be a good idea to volunteer.”
[Another weakness of mine is Roommate AUs, and this one is phenomenal. I tend to go for post serum!Steve stories more often, but this is a pre-serum Steve that I just adore.]
‘The Cold Never Bothered me Anyway’ by icoulddothisallday
Rating: E, Words:75562
“Bucky Barnes has spent his whole life in a state of mild hypothermia. Steve Rogers has spent the last 70 years in the ice. The two things aren’t related until, suddenly, they are. Shrunkyclunks soulmate AU (AKA the awkward bb au).”
[I think this is the only soulmate AU in my bookmarks? I would totally be down to read more though! This one is really fun and really enjoy Bucky’s characterisation here!]
'War, Children' by Nonymos
Rating: E, Words: 106615
“After Bucky was released from the hospital, it only took him a couple of weeks to give up on himself. Difficult to believe in any kind of future when the simple act of staying alive was almost too big an effort.
Out the frosted window, across the street, there was a tiny homeless guy burrowing under an awning.”
[An interesting exploration of Bucky’s PTSD with a trans!Steve which was a cool take on his character too!]
'The Company You Keep' by orbingarrow
Rating: G, Words: 51191
“Hurt, hungry, and on the run, the Winter Soldier doesn’t have a lot of safe options to go to for help. Figuring that any friend of Captain Steve Rogers is unlikely to be HYDRA, Bucky takes a chance and reaches out to the first Avenger he can find.
It works out better than anyone could have expected. Eventually.”
[hurt/comfort, recovering Bucky, protective Steve, found family and domestic avengers, need I say more? I absolutely loved this one]
210 notes · View notes
So everyone has their own portrayals/headcanons for Akiren’s personality and relationships when they create content with him, I decided to write out how I portray him! ☕️❤️⭐️✨
I love the name Ren Amamiya for him. It’s translation is pretty much Lotus flower in a Rain Palace (so cute!!).
I headcanon him as a trans boy! Pronouns are he/him! 🏳️⚧️ He’s gotten top surgery and trains his voice to be deep.
Ren is very shy, quiet and sweet when you first meet him, but once he’s comfortable around someone he becomes a bit more talkative, cheeky and a lil’ bratty.
Country Boy alert! This boy is SO in tune with nature. He loves plants so much, he started a tiny garden in his attic. He uses the herbs and flowers he grows to make spices and sugars for pastries! 🥖🥐🍰
He’s also fascinated with the stars. He likes to sit on the roof of Leblanc at night to stargaze. ⭐️✨
We all know Ren is a cat in a human’s body! He likes chilling in small spaces, cuddling soft things like pillows and plush toys, and taking naps! Number one way to buy his love? Head scritches!
His favorite things to eat (besides Leblanc curry lol) are donuts, bread, cotton candy, sushi, and ramen. He also loves strawberry milk but can’t drink too much or his tummy will hurt.
Ren has an oral fixation. Whenever he’s feeling nervous, stressed or on the verge of an anxiety attack he NEEDS something to chew or suck on. His go to is lollipops because his mother liked them too. If he doesn’t have a lollipop on hand, he’ll just suck his thumb.
Old fashioned boy, can’t figure out how to use today’s devices to save his life.
Only one he uses is a Nintendo Switch to play Animal Crossing and Cooking Mama! still needs help from Futaba sometimes lol
Bless his heart.
Ren is such a sweetie…
He never notices when someone is flirting with him. He can’t take a hint. Send him flowers? Oh nice, he’ll talk your ear off about flowers! Buy him sweets? Good, he was getting hungry! Compliment him? He’ll give you one too! Fr is anyone wants to date this boy they gotta grab him by the face and tell him to him straight.
At the same time, Ren is so sweet he never sees the bad in people. Which in turn makes it far too easy for him to be taken advantage of. He’s quick to blame himself for everything even if nothing was his fault.
Ren’s relationships with others! ❤️
Ryuji is his absolute best friend! Those two are inseparable. They hangout together the most!
Ren likes falling asleep in Ryuji’s lap and getting headpats from him.
Ryuji always knows when something is bothering his friend. The second he sees Ren pulling his hair and tapping his heel, he’s the first to pull him aside and ask him what’s wrong along with a feel better hug.
It’s not uncommon for Ryuji to always have an arm around Ren’s shoulder or waist just to keep him safe.
Ann thinks Ren is absolutely ADORABLE! Girl straight up pampers him like a baby brother. ❤️
She’s always taking Ren shopping for clothes. Once she discovered he likes pastels she went all out on finding the cutest outfits for him to wear.
Ann is always carrying sweets in her school bag, so whenever Ren is tugging on her sleeve and quietly asking for candies with his cute lil face she doesn’t hesitate to give him some. When she found out sucking on a lollipop calms Ren down, she made sure to always have a couple in her bag.
Ren sees Morgana as the ultimate plush toy most of the time.
At first Mona didn’t enjoy constantly being picked up and cuddled half to death, but he accepted his fate after a while.
It’s actually nice to know he can provide Ren with comfort.
Morgana takes his job of being Ren’s cuddle buddy very seriously!
Something about the artist’s aura is incredibly soothing to Ren. He likes to be in Yusuke’s presence whenever he’s drawing or painting.
Whiiich often leads to Ren falling asleep and Yusuke having a stroke because GOD if Ren isn’t the most flawless prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. Fr half his sketchbooks are full of drawings of Ren asleep.
They love going to the park and stargazing together!
So you know how cats react to people they don’t like?
These two are not a good match
That brief time when Makoto was stalking him was extremely stressful for Ren and he didn’t like it. It doesn’t help that Makoto is still so strict and wants to be a police officer after everything Ren’s been through.
SOS Ren has no idea what she’s saying most of the time
Futaba teases him for not knowing about basically anything modern and drags him to watch anime with her and talk his ear off. Sweet Ren still doesn’t get it but it’s nice to see Futaba so happy about something she loves!
Oh, she’s basically his mom.
Ren was having a panic attack once, so Haru pulled him to lay on her chest so she could stroke his hair and calm him down. He started sucking his thumb and that was the exact second she was like “this is my baby now, I’ve adopted him”.
Haru was excited when she saw Ren little garden and they trade gardening tips often! Sometimes they bring all the crops and herbs they grew separately and make delicious treats for their friends with them!
DO I HAVE TO SAY IT?
Goro is Ren’s number one protector. Ren is the only person that can cuddle up to him and give him physical affection. Ren could spend an entire Phantom Thieves meeting sitting in Goro’s lap and playing with his hair and Goro wouldn’t bat an eye.
Similar to Ryuji, Goro always notices when something is up with Ren. Occasionally he’ll give Ren a little present like a plush toy, candy, or just shiny trinkets he knows Ren will love just to see him happy.
Whenever Ren is really stressed or upset about something, Goro is the one he’ll call.
Ren spends time at Goro’s apartment a lot where they have lots of movie nights with cuddles :3
44 notes · View notes
Headcanons for Jeff
I decided to write down some of my headcanons for Jeff because sometimes I forget that only I and close friends know of them for my version of Jeff- Whoops. So here they are. Some darker headcanons ahead as well because I don’t like p*ssy boys, I want stinky, horrible men that reek of a** :)
The original stories are so bare bones, everyone makes something else out of the characters, lovely to see. That being said, don’t bully other people for having different headcanons, holy sh*t- If you want soft trans uwu beans, you do you, i don’t care, but let me have my horrible reeking of a** men. Lots of people think I just draw p*rn of the characters and thats it, but when you’ve drawn these characters for almost a decade, written fanfiction, made comics...ect. you’ll pile up a lot of headcanons. Especially considering I haven’t even drawn smut NSFW content for a year now, literally just started in september- Like, my first *uploaded* drawing is like 7-8 years ago and my first FF was uploaded in 2013, I put a lot of heart into this fandom.
* cough * So... Dead Dove content ahead. Probably? For me it’s not that heavy but imma give a warning anyways. First ones are tame/just basic stuff don’t worry, you’ll notice when I go downhill with this.
- Jeff is currently 22 years old [Liu is older, being 23 years old]
- They‘re from Texas, no I do not take critique on that statement.
- His hair is dyed black. It didn’t grow back being black. He still has brown hair. He’s pretty lazy with redyeing though so you can often see quite a bit of his roots.
- Jeff prefers keeping his hair on the shorter end and cuts it himself. He’s not great at it, but he can’t exactly go to a hairdresser.
- He’s incredibly flirty. No surprise when you consider that he’s convinced that he can get whatever he wants. And up until now he basically always got what he wanted, so that just encourages this even more. He’ll flirt with everyone, most of the time he doesn’t even have romantic/s*xual intentions, he just loves the attention.
- Jeff basically turned into a bully himself, ironic isn’t it? He loves making other people feel absolutely miserable about themselves. One second he’s a sweetheart in disguise the other he’ll make you wanna jump off of a bridge.
- Hard to impress. He‘ll do anything to turn what you tried bragging about into a joke and will humiliate you at any chance given.
- He suffers from Pyrophobia, because of obvious past events.
- Jeff’s Bi. But I headcanon every character as Bi by default, he ain’t special.
- His music taste? 80′s, 90′s and metal, thats it. He loves dancing around too. Also lot‘s of MSI.
- This MF can blink, he didn’t burn his eyelids off, he’d be pretty much blind otherwise. (Let’s not get into too realistic stuff because... realistically he’d be 6 feet under the ground. But he has eyelids. He just loves to stare.)
- He often crashes in a basement of an abandoned house, thats the closest thing he has to a home. It’s cold and incredibly dirty, but he doesn’t care. (Slender-mansion and all that stuff doesn’t exist in my Universe.)
- By living in an abandoned basement you can probably guess that he doesn’t shower that much and reeks of a** and sweat most of the time.
- Jeff suffers from narcissistic personality disorder. (Normally I don’t like outright saying Characters have a certain disorder and just let the actions/feelings/behavior speak for itself, but I feel like this ones a given for Jeff and fits.)
- That being said, due to his NPD he has a massive struggle with empathy. He tries to feel empathy towards Liu, but even towards his own brother it’s just incredibly hard.
- He’s on a high dosage of “pain killers” most of the time that make his limbs feel numb. If it weren’t for the numbness he’d be in quite a bit of pain most of the time because of his reckless behavior.
- The reckless behavior is encouraged by the “pain killers”. It’s an endless loop.
- “On-pain killers” Jeff and “Off-pain killers” Jeff are two completely different people, like holy f*ck- “On-pain Killers” Jeff is able to focus, very cheerful almost, very positive... while “off-pain Killers” Jeff is an absolute wreck (To be fair, he already was before that but y’know- worse.), he can barley focus, everything hurts, he has panic attacks on a regular, his Insomnia creeps back up on him and he basically has a lot of withdrawl symptoms.
- Despite being so reckless he’s a great stalker. One of the upsides of his “pain killers” is that he can focus pretty well with them. (Stalker behavior will be seen more in my comic NT, somewhere in the future- I promise, I didn’t forget about it, but I’m still struggling with my comic skills-)
- To unpopular believe, Jeff has never killed anyone else after his family. (K.A.S.!AU is an exception) He’s just constantly on a run and in hiding. Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t kill though, he definitely still would if there was a reason. His kill count really isn’t that high.
- Every once in a while he gets massive nightmares about what he did, bringing back insomniac episodes that he used to struggle with in the past. He will not sleep for days until he basically collapses under the heavy weight of his limbs. The dreams are mostly about his parents taunting him about what he did and they keep asking him why he did it. (Problems of insomnia have been mentioned in my FF “Insomniac” for my all is good!AU. Despite it being an AU, the struggles of Insomnia are present everywhere in my Universes. The all is good!AU is just an alternative universe where he didn’t become JtK)
- Jeff has a serious “SH” problem/addiction. His SH further worsens because his “pain killers” make him feel numb, like mentioned above, but cutting/hitting/ect. gives him a sensation of being able to feel something again. He’s addicted to the feeling. [Mentioned in further detail in my FF “Butterfly cuts”, DD:DNE content, 18+ only, Be a sweetheart and read the tags.]
- Self harming brings him a sh*t ton of joy and pleasure, he regrets it every time though. Every feeling of happiness and pleasure leaves him and he needs to be patched up asap. It’s a problem which he’s not willing to work on.
- He’s picked up s*x work to get some money for himself. He never really enjoys having people do this kind of stuff with him but he doesn’t mind too much. Easy money for him. It’s nothing that would get him off though.. (Jeff being a s*x worker is not me sh*tting on people who do s*x work, they deserve the same respect as everyone else.)
- He loves h*eing around, might as well make money with it.
- Liu doesn’t quite approve of Jeff’s “profession”, but he knows if Jeff wants to do something he’ll do it no matter what.
- Reverse psychology doesn‘t work on him. Some people think he‘s stupid or an idiot, but he‘s actually quite smart, especially when it comes to reading people. Don’t get on his bad side.
- The "pain killers" don‘t mix well with alcohol, so he stays away from it (most of the time,, at least he tries to?-) He smokes cigarettes though.
- Jeff probably has an emeto fetish, let’s be real. He probably has a lot of fetishes that are on the more “gross” side.
- He has an Oral-Fixation, do not question it.
- He could use a therapist. He suffered from a lot of trauma and psychological damage, addictions aside.
I feel like this is enough information vomit for now. Enjoy them. Or not. At least y’all have some more information on my version of Jeff now- Idk, if the interest is there imma maybe make some Headcanon dumps for the other characters. I’ve been all over with these headcanons but by now y’all should be used to me being an organized chaos.
44 notes · View notes
why i loved space sweepers so much
so I don’t really make posts all that often but I watched my new favourite movie last night and i really just need to get out somewhere how much i love this film. Spoilers, obviously.
so three things made me want to watch space sweepers: it’s sci fi, it has Kim Tae-Ri in it (you might know her as Sook-hee from The Handmaiden) and that gif of a girl reading in space with floaty anti-grav hair, which is so far up my alley it hurts.
what i got: found family misfit dumbasses, amazing space action sequences, a great political message, very cool futuristic language communication premise, characters that you fall in love with So easily, richard armitage as futuristic even more evil elon musk???, and just a whole lot of HEART. so without further ado here is what i loved and also what i wanted more of:
i’m going to start with the language thing because i was a linguistics major and that always fascinates me. I loved the way they treated language, culture and global interaction in this film. Lots of sci-fi properties do the whole ‘universal translator’ thing and everyone ends up sounding English or whatever the first language is of the main character, but Space Sweepers has this totally international mix of misfits who live up in space doing the dangerous and low paid job of collecting space debris, and they all speak their own language! they have earpieces that translate any other language so they understand it!! What this means is that not only do we as viewers get to hear a whole host of varied languages from the people who actually speak them, but the worldbuilding aspect has me ahhhh. it means that communities and cultures get to keep their own language heritage.
One of the best examples is the crew at the start who get rumbled by the Victory who are all shouting in Arabic, Mandarin, English, and other languages I’m pretty sure. And they’re on a crew together!! i just think that’s really neat and we see that example in some other crews later. And then on the other hand, the main crew obviously all speak Korean but i Loved what we saw of Tae-ho and Su-ni and her learning to write in hangul. This detail is such a nice touch because it shows that kids are still learning the language and culture of their families and Earth hasn’t turned into a homegenised mass of English speakers.
The next thing is the characters and wow it’s been a long time since i watched a ‘crew’ film and loved all of them so much. I’ll start with Tiger because he’s maybe the most obvious ‘stereotype’ of them but the actor plays him SO well. Is the trope of ‘big scary strong man with tattoos is actually soft cinnamon roll for children’ overplayed? maybe. Do i care? Nope! the way it took basically less than an hour for Kot-nim to win him over and him be like ‘I want to keep this child and i would kill everyone else and then myself to keep her safe’. That argument he had with her about the dinosaurs just melted me.
Then we have Tae-ho, who is also Protective Dad but in his own way and i just really really really loved his dynamic with Kot-nim. It would be the obvious route to have his ‘Dad’ instincts from losing Su-ni take over and have him be the protective one straight away, but what we see is so much more interesting. He struggles to connect to her, struggles to WANT to connect to her. And you can see that it’s for two reasons: he doesn’t want to replace Su-ni, so he acts cold and distant at first. But he also doesn’t want to get his heart broken again. He’s already lost one child he adopted, so if he doesn’t get close to this kid, it can’t hurt, right? Anyway, I loved seeing Kot-nim gently break down his boundaries like only a kid her age can do. The tomatoes scene, obviously, but also the scene where she tells him she drew him first and shows him the picture. Did I cry a little? Maybe. I think this was also such a good character detail for Kot-nim - after all, Tae-ho’s the one who found her in the car first.. And honestly, the best way for a kid to become curious about you is to fob them off, lmao.
Then we come to my wife, Captain Jang. And oh my. oh my god. Like I thought Kim Tae-ri played the perfect lesbian in The Handmaiden lmao. I want a prequel about Captain Jang right now, please?? please?? her backstory sounds SO interesting and i almost hate that it was given to us in exposition like it was. Of course, there were hints to it: her obviously understanding Hyeon-u’s notes, the first one to realise that Kot-nim isn’t a robot. But she had more nuance than just being Hot Smart Girl Captain and let me tell you was that a relief. She’s an idiot like the rest of them (the gambling scene, the ransom call scene), and she may not show it, but she CARES. SO MUCH. like, do you think she would lead a pirate crew to assassinate Sullivan if she didn’t care about the fate of the world and humanity and was a nihilist?? No!!! anyway, i loved the little hints to her genius (her glasses, her spotting the EMP mines that she invented) and that she’s literally mostly the one brain cell in the crew. It was great that she didn’t take a mother role with Kot-nim like they also easily could have done, but she also falls in love just as hard and the scene where she takes over from Fighting Dads to wash Kot-nim’s hair is amazing. anyway i want a prequel film of her growing up in the genius program and realising and becoming a pirate SO BAD please.
Bubs!!! where would we be without Bubs? I thought I wouldn’t like her at first, being the sassy robot character, but then we got her being fleshed out with wants and dreams and so much more of a personality than meets the eye and just!!! I really want someone to tell me what her actual Korean name means (oebdongie?). Anyway I won’t speak too much on the trans storyline because while I thought it was pretty damn good I don’t want to sing its praises when I’m not trans myself. However, I did really love some little details, like the crew not blinking an eye about it and That whole scene with Kot-nim. My favourite favourite thing is that she’s doing the most Big Sister TM thing ever by sitting Kot-nim down for a makeover and Kot-nim has already intuited this and calls her unnie (which doesn’t actually translate to “lady” by the way, but more like “big sister” [pls correct me if I’m wrong about any detail of this but unnie is the term for girls to use for girls older than them]) and it’s just such a sweet moment. Anyway, the fact that she gets her surgery in the end and is living happily reading austrian poetry just makes me so emotional.
Kot-nim was an absolute treasure of a child character, who yes, is a bit of an innate deus ex machina but you know what? she’s also a deus ex machina for the characters as much as the plot and that’s always a plus in my book. she had so many hilarious moments while also being such a smart and sweet kid and never annoying or badly acted either?? I would absolutely watch a sequel with a grown-up Kot-nim going around having adventures while her Two Protective Uncles/Dads, Cool Aunt and Fun Big Sister worry about her.
i won’t write much about sullivan because he is a bit of that stereotype comics villain and it’s never really explained what’s happening to him, but do I think it’s hilarious they basically created extra evil Elon Musk giving people emotionally corrupt ultimatums because he has a god complex and wants to be the saviour of humanity but is killing literal children? yes. do i think it’s even more hilarious that it’s RICHARD ARMITAGE??? yes?!!! anyway what a time and it seems like he also had a great time on it which is fun.
there are so many moments in this film that just made me fall in love with it. the visual of the plan being run over by the truck in the beginning for some reason reminds me of Wall-E and who doesn’t want to be reminded of Wall-E? the whole culture of the space sweepers, the fact that they didn’t shy away from the politics of poverty and exploitative work practices. Someone else on this tag pointed out that the Victory, while the biggest baddest bitch in the game, is also struggling to get by!! and all the momentary hostilities between the crews of the orbit are just that - momentary. They all realise that they’re all just struggling to survive and when it comes down to the important things, they back each other up. The scenes with the sweepers taking out the missiles chasing the Victory was not only a great action sequence but Fun and Loud and Colourful and ahhhh. The Black Foxes as an environmentalist organisation framed as terrorists by the media bought out by UTS was a great touch too, and I’m still sad about what happened to them. I would have loved to see more of what they were about too.
Basically, I loved almost everything about this film and I’m sure I’m forgetting so many things. I went in with good expectations and was blown away. It was also nice to see such a happy ending, because as much as it may be unrealistic, god, it’s what we need sometimes. I want all the fics about domestic Victory crew. I want all the slash fics about Tae-ho/Tiger. I want to marry Captain Jang. And this is way too long so no one will read it, but hey, if you did, please talk to me about this film because!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
tl;dr space sweepers good and i would die for its characters. goodnight.
41 notes · View notes
No Sugarcoat Needed
And we can finally continue with the series! Im so excited to continue and to finally post this story. I do hope you enjoy it, please consider leaving feedback, coments are allways welcomed!
P.S; this story feathures a MTF Trans Character. I did my best writing it but if there’s any inconsistencies I would apreciate if you’d let me now. I would like to be both respectful and helpful. Other than that, please enjoy!
|Pair: F. Flower Nymph x F.Character|Citrus Scale: Lime|Words: 5033|Disclaimer: WLW, Flower Nymphs, Flirting, MTF Character, Trans Character, Crushes, Heavy Storms|
‘’…The little girl tried to grab as many pieces as her tiny hands allowed her, and quickly rushed to her father’s studio to find a box for them. She found many; big ones, small ones, tall ones, and even some had tiny holes in weird patterns. She grabbed one painted in a beautiful blue and put the pieces inside, satisfied, she tried to leave the room but find herself looking back at the sound of a high-pitched scream…’’
I closed the book in my hands, my eyes hurt from reading with the little light in the morning. I was allowed thirty minutes to rest before going back to work on the fields but I got used to eating fast and could only read to pass the remaining time.
Even though my parents owned the house on the hill, I’m forced to work on the fields alongside my younger sister. Well, using the word ‘forced’ would be too dramatic. The truth is, I often get in a lot of trouble because of my sharp tongue and defensive attitude, I know it, but there’s little I can do to stop being how I am. My father has sent me here many times, either to help with the cattle or give my sister a hand when shearing the sheep.
He told me some fresh air would help me become more empathetic and recognize the value of hard work, but I believe he doubts I’ll change how I am. He know’s I prefer to be out here than in meeting with people I’m not fond of.
It’s been years now and I’m still a brat. The hard work has become my routine and I’ve grown to enjoy it, sheep don’t judge me much after all. It’s when I have to go to the village that things get complicated.
Our parents are well known around the villagers because of their business with the nearby villages and cities, and our father has become some sort of celebrity among the common folk. Sadly, as his daughters, we are seen as an easy way to get access to the family money and lands, many of my old friends started looking at me or my younger sister with greedy and lustful eyes. I hate when people look at me that way, which is why I prefer my alone time in the barn or working in the barley fields.
I look at the pocket clock in my hand, my break is almost over. I stand up and stretch some more before grabbing two heavy buckets with food for the chickens, I can hear them clucking in excitement from afar.
‘’I know, I know. But you all being hungry isn’t news anymore’’ I say as I empty the buckets in the wooden boxes we use as feeders, they quickly gather around and start eating to their heart's content. I smile at them, always so noisy and hungry, somehow they remind me a little about my younger self, not that I have changed much either.
‘’You talk to the chickens?’’ I hear someone say. I turn to my left where I see a young girl leaning against the fence wearing a flower crown on her head. I frown at her, isn’t this area supposed to be exclusive for workers only? Is she lost or something? ‘’Wow, hey! Don’t need to look at me with such an angry look, I was just asking. If you want to talk with chickens that’s more than okay’’
‘’If you came here to laugh, then do so. If you’re lost the village is all the way over there, you can take the path near the forest’’ I say as I point towards the trees and grab the empty buckets. ‘’Otherwise, this area is secluded and I doubt you work around here’’
‘’You’ll be right at doubting!’’ she winks at me. ‘’I was just passing by and decided to chat for a little while. What’s your name?’’
I frowned again and rolled my eyes. I don’t have time to chat, in fact, that’s the last thing I want to do at the moment! As I walk back to the barn I hear footsteps behind me, the strange girl followed me inside.
‘’You shouldn’t be here. Go back, I’m busy’’ I say harshly to make my point clear, maybe that way she’ll leave me alone? But she only giggled and started playing with her hair.
‘’You haven’t told me your name yet, how am I supposed to leave without knowing how to call you?’’ she insists.
‘’What would you want to know my name? To mock me? To laugh at me? Or to insult my family maybe?’’. I knew my face must be red with fury, I step forward and she takes a few steps back but the smile on her face still hasn’t disappeared. That smile irritates me so much.
‘’Hey there, now that would be much of a twist isn’t it? It may be news for you but the world isn’t preoccupied with a little girl’s business that much. You like being the cherry on top of a cake, don’t you?’’ she smirks and for a second I wished I had the fork for the hay close to me and chase her downhill. She laughed and turned, her simple and flowy dress seemed to be decorated with beautiful embroidery. ‘’Cryssa’’ she says.
‘’What?’’ I ask confused.
‘’My name. So you won’t forget it for next time’’ and with that, she left humming a cheerful song. I didn’t know how to feel about it, I had a weird feeling that she got something from me but I couldn’t figure it out well. I feel like I’ve lost something important and that frustrates me, how dare she? Coming all the way here just to mess with me, what did she get from it? There’s nothing but silence and questions without an answer.
I started seeing more of Cryssa over the month. She would casually be walking in the road beside the forest, waving and calling me over to talk to me, sometimes she’ll even have some berries to share as a snack.
I didn’t like her at first, she confused me and even frustrated me. There was something about her that kept me enchanted, though. Maybe it was her looks, I had to admit that she was attractive to my eyes and found myself staring at her for more than ten seconds. She made me feel as if I had fish in my belly and fire ants in my face. I know, it made no sense, that’s why she’s so frustrating to me but I can’t find the words to push her away.
As winter comes closer I have to make double the work to assure the animals will have enough food for the season. The morning air already feels a bit colder, and even Cryssa has to wear heavy cloaks to keep herself warm. But despite the weather and her absolute hate for cold, she comes to see me every day.
‘’Do you like me now, Leah?’’ she looks at me while eating an apple.
‘’I tolerate you more if that’s what you mean’’ I smirk at her. The more we have got to know each other I’ve come to feel free to be myself. She doesn’t seem bothered by my sarcastic, and as some would say, ‘’aggressive tongue of mine. In fact, she seems to have one of her own. Not afraid to say as she pleases and doing the same dance of irony every evening.
‘’I’m glad’’ she throws the apple core to the side. ‘’I guess I should buy you a ring soon’’
I laugh bitterly. This is not the first time she has made comments like that but I have thought nothing of them. Deep down, I know I’m not suitable for marriage to anybody. ‘’If I didn’t know you I would think for a moment that you mean those words’’
Cryssa stays silent for a couple of seconds before hugging me from behind. Her front is pressed against my back, her softness and warmth, her hair tickling the back of my naked neck as her hot breath makes me shiver.
I froze into place. I cannot think or even get angry at her, all I can do is feel her as vague thoughts wander in my head, making me feel dizzy.
How silly of me, that my heart is beating so fast just for a simple hug. Was it the surprise that big? Maybe I’m worried I might stink for working? Why would I care? Why would she care? She isn’t pulling away, no… she’s hugging me tighter. It feels… warm. Just warm enough that I could melt.
I close my eyes for a second as she starts humming a song. I put my hands on top of hers and find a bit of assurance noticing that hers are just as rough and calloused as mine, it gave me comfort somehow and a small sense of compliance with her.
From afar, I thought anyone who could see us standing beside each other would easily compare us. She’s far more regal than I, effortlessly charming despite that cheeky attitude of hers. But me, on the other hand, I’m not graceful enough to be admired.
My body is strongly built, my nose is round and chubby as my cheeks, my hair looks like straw and my thick eyebrows make me look as I was always frowning. Not that I’m in good humor most days, so that has to add too.
Cryssa grabs my right hand, lacing our fingers and playing with them. ‘’I was thinking diamonds are a bit too much for you, and the color isn’t right. What color would you like?’’
‘’For what?’’ I open my eyes, coming back to my senses.
‘’For the ring, I’m going to buy one for you. I’ll have to get one if I’m going to marry you’’ she says so, chuckling like a little girl.
Marriage. That word made my stomach turn, and for a moment, I could swear that all the blood in my face had drained. Marriage. Does she not realize what she’s talking about? She might think nothing of it but to me…
I pushed her away from me. She looked at me with surprise in her eyes, she tried to smile but couldn’t. I felt angry and empty at the same time, I wasn’t sure of many things but all I wanted was to be left alone.
‘’I don’t want to keep playing this game of you’’ I say.
‘’I wasn’t playing-‘’
‘’I don’t care!’’ I shout loudly. I can feel my blood boiling. ‘’It might be easy to you to say such things, but not for me!’’
Cryssa looked scared. Lost, even. With every step she took closer to me I took another trying to run away from her. I was afraid too. Of what? I didn’t really know. I was angry, that I knew for sure, but with whom? Her? Maybe. But how could she know the reason why?
No, she shouldn’t know. She should not want to now, neither should she want to marry me. Because if she truly meant those words, then it would mean that I lied to her, and she wouldn’t forgive me.
‘’You should go’’ I looked at the orange sky cover in heavy clouds. ‘’The sun is about to set, it's time for me to return too’’ Was all I said as I walked back to my house. I didn’t look back to see if she was still there. I hoped she wasn’t. I couldn’t eat or drink anything as I felt like rocks had replaced my organs.
My sister Bianca tried to comfort me as I cried myself to sleep. She understood me better than myself most times, and although she didn’t know the reason for my tears, she stayed until late hours with me, telling me everything was going to be okay.
I didn’t saw Cryssa the next day in the fields, neither the day after nor the one after that. She didn’t appear on the horizon carrying a basket of whatever she fancy eating that evening, or wearing flowers in her wild hair. She just wasn’t there, the same way she appeared she quickly disappeared the next day,
At first, it was a huge relief as I didn’t know how to approach her after literally pushing her away. A few days were more than enough to plan a proper apology, maybe joke about it and pray she didn’t ask for an explanation. The week after I thought maybe bring her an apology gift could save me some words as we would eat lunch together, so I borrowed one of my mother’s jam jars and kept it with me in the small cottage, away from the chickens and pigs. After the third week I started worrying something might have happened to her, I went to town and look for her despite not wanting to talk to people and asked my sisters to ask her acquaintances as well, but none knew anything about a young lady with wild hair.
I felt guilty for not saying goodbye properly. I felt the worry sink deeply in my bones every day I didn’t saw her. I prayed I would see her walking in the distance, just to know she was okay. And as winter starts to come to its end, I worry I might not see her ever again.
I often find myself touching my fingers as she did that one time, wondering if she truly meant to buy me a ring. What kind of ring would she bring me? I never told her my favorite color.
Spring was a blessing as the animals could roam freely in the grass again. The chickens were the most overjoyed, jumping enthusiastically as I open the door for them to come out.
‘’Glad to see everyone in high spirits’’ I sigh. There’s already so much to do and so little time as the sun slowly rises itself from behind the mountains. I take a look at the forest before resuming my chores. The entrance is now covered in all sorts of wildflowers; dandelions, daisies, forget-me-nots, and cloves. It looks like a very expensive carpet.
The chickens have already gathered around me looking for food. ‘’Alright, I’ll bring you breakfast. You don’t have to poke at my feet’’
‘’Still talking to the chickens, I see’’ a familiar voice calls me.
I turn around, fast enough to make me dizzy. There, in the fence, like the first time we ever meet, was Cryssa. She was smiling, still wearing a cloak around her shoulders to keep herself warm, her hair messier than ever, and a couple of flowers tangled in her hair.
I cannot speak yet my mouth hangs open. She chuckles, smiling from ear to ear. ‘’Miss me?’’
I couldn’t move, I just stood there and looked at her. Tears started to flow from my eyes, despite my best efforts to contain them I couldn’t stop them. She came to me and clean them away with her hands, her touch warm and welcoming in my frozen cheeks.
‘’I’m sorry’’ I mumbled between sobs.
‘’For what? For being a brat?’’ She chuckled and I cried louder. ‘’It’s alright, I already knew you were one. But maybe next time you can tell me what stuff bothers you so I don’t make you cry again, okay?’’
I nodded, wiping my nose with the sleeve of my dress. She took hold of my hand and led me to the nearest hill, the sun warm and welcoming as we sat in the still damp grass. The view of the valley seems to change every time I get to see it as if I could find more reasons to find it beautiful.
‘’I missed you, you know?’’ Cryssa says, hugging her legs close to her chest, hiding her face.
‘’Why didn’t you come back sooner then?’’ I whine.
‘’I couldn’t’’ her answer was quick and short. ‘’We need to move whenever winter comes, as it’s not safe for us to stay with such hard weather’’
‘’Us? You mean, you have a family or siblings?’’
She shrugged. ‘’Something like that. You could say I have sisters, although we are different from each other in many ways. Father is the only thing that links us together, aside from the bonds we can make in our way’’
‘’I see’’ I play with a few fallen leaves the breeze brought to my feet. ‘’Cryssa… you aren’t- how do I say this?’’
‘’Human? No. Which is why I need to leave during winter’’ she stretches her arms and legs, falling back into the grass. ‘’It didn’t bother me before, I never expected to grow so attached to a human before. But this winter was horrible’’ she whines. ‘’All I wanted was to come back and see your chubby face and messy hair’’
I chuckled, and she laughed with me. I fell back next to her, my back felt cold as well as my feet but I couldn’t find the strength to get up. I didn’t want to. That moment with her, laughing at everything and nothing, saying so much without needing a single word, was priceless.
We played with each other hands, lacing our fingers together, sometimes she would brush my cheek and I would play with her hair. For what felt like the first time, I was okay with someone looking at me directly, into more than just my appearance and find my timid soul, and with her adoring eyes I felt so… beautiful.
‘’You never told me what color you liked your ring to be’’
‘’I didn’t want to get my hopes up. It feels so surreal to have you here beside me’’
She kissed my forehead. ‘’Silly brat, this is no dream so there’s no way it would end. Now tell me, what color you like?’’
I giggle, blushing like a young maiden. ‘’Orange. It reminds me of the sunset’’
She nods and sits up, looking around as if looking for something before taking out a single flower tangled in her hair. It was a small chrysanthemum bud which she twisted and tied into the shape of a ring. ‘’I know is no diamond or gem, but I hope it’ll suffice’’ she places it in my finger, kissing my knuckles tenderly.
There's nothing but ethereal silence between us, our eyes screaming a thousand words of passion to each other. I never before noticed the beauty of her eyes so close to me, like melted amber and open flames. She places a hand on my cheek, her face coming close to mine as I close my eyes slowly, waiting for the sweetness of such a gesture.
The kiss was tender, sweet, and everything it was supposed to be yet, words couldn’t describe it. We pulled apart, looked at each other, and burst into laughter and tears.
The flowers around us moved happily the more we continue laughing. I was holding her hand tightly, and smiling softly at the funny memories that led us to this moment. At some point she turned to see me, she was looking at me with such an intense gaze, her eyes seemed to be full with nothing but a burning passion.
She put another hand on my cheek and I nuzzled against it. Her touch was a little shy and doubtful. I’ve not been the most open so I can’t blame her, in fact, I’m glad she considers how I feel and what I want.
I got closer to her, letting her know that I feel comfortable with her touching me and being close to me. I felt braver, even though I once doubted I could be, I felt the strenght building inside me. When I’m with her I don’t need to worry about what I’m going to say or what she could say. I trust she won’t hurt me in any way.
Suddenly, as if the sky were jealous of us, dark clouds cover us in a matter of seconds as heavy rain falls on us, soaking us from head to toe.
‘’Damn it! Couldn’t you just wait a little longer?’’ Cryssa yells at the sky as if it could answer her back. She quickly stands up and pulls me from my arm. ‘’You cannot stay here, we better go seek for refugee’’
‘’My house is too far! I’ll drown before I arrived there!’’ I try to yell, the rain is strong and loud. I look around and an idea strikes my head. ‘’We can go hide in the barn! Bianca should have left the sheep inside, maybe she forgot to close the door’’
Cryssa doubts for a second, looking around maybe trying to find a better alternative. She sighs and nods, together we run as fast as we could, trying not to trip and fall in the mud. When we arrive I’m glad to find that Bianca didn’t close the door as, I thought. All the sheep are sleeping inside and the place stinks of hay and dust.
‘’I guess we cannot be picky’’ I sigh. Cryssa doesn’t seem to be bothered despite being cover in rainwater from head to toe but I was freezing. My wet clothes are making me feel worse, and they stick to my small chest. I turn away from her and try to cover myself with my arms. Gods, this was embarrassing.
She doesn’t pay mind to my attitude, instead, she looks around, finding us a blanket between the farming supplies.
‘’Here’’ she throws it at me. It smells old and it’s not very clean, then again, is either drying up or caught pneumonia.
‘’Take off your clothes too’’ she yells and I glare at her, she just rolls her eyes. ‘’This rain doesn’t sound as if would stop at any minute’’ she points to the roof, I can hear the drops hitting it from outside. ‘’You’ll die if you think sleeping with wet clothes will be a good idea’’
For a moment I don’t know what to do. True, she has become a good friend to be, maybe the only one I’ll ever have, but the idea of her seeing me… scares me to death. What if she hates me? What if she thinks I’m disgusting? What if-
Before I can keep questioning myself anymore I catch her unbuttoning her dress. I try to say something, asking her what she was doing, but in a matter of seconds, her dress hits the floor. I’m taken by the sight of her silhouette, plump thighs, round-looking breasts, and soft-looking arms that feel warm whenever she hugs me. Her back seemed to be covered with thin orange petals as well as the lower part of her legs and arms. She looks so beautiful even in the dim light that comes from outside.
She looks at the ground clearly embarrassed, turning so she’s not facing me. ‘’There! Now that I’m naked you have nothing to be embarrassed about, so hurry up and take your clothes off!’’ she scowls at me.
I stand up, leaving the blanket on the side. Slowly but secure I start untying the laces of my simple dress. I take it off and my skin feels the change of temperature immediately, making me shiver. I remove my boots and my stockings which are soaking wet from the rain. I leave everything aside, in hopes that they would dry despite the cold air.
I quickly grab the blanket and cover myself with it.
Cryssa turns around, happy to see me stop shivering. I couldn’t help but wonder if she’s cold, she’s bare naked without shoes in an old barn. Why isn’t she shivering? She sits on the ground, looking at the dark clouds through the small window.
I sit beside her, she feels warm like the small flame of a candle. I rest my head on her shoulder, glad to not be alone in this situation. Suddenly, I feel her shiver slighly. She is cold but she hasn’t said anything.
‘’Could you turn around?’’ I ask her and she looks at me surprised. ‘’Please?’’ I whimper.
She does as I ask, not questioning me any longer. I sit as close as possible and wrap the blanket around us. She’s not as cold as me, she’s even warmer now that I can feel her skin against mine. It’s actually nice, and I’m surprised that indeed, these marks feel as velvety as the petals of a flower.
‘’I- I, It wouldn’t be fair if I take the blanket for myself’’ I try to justify my actions.
‘’I would have expected that for you, knowing how much of a brat you are’’ she teases me.
‘’I can take it back if you’re too worried about it!’’ I joke. She giggles and turns so she can give me a quick kiss on the lips.
‘’Nah. I want you to stink of hay too’’
The rain may have ruined the moment but the cold weather doesn’t ruin the fact that our kiss feels amazing. I kiss her again, running my hands over her shoulders and thighs, getting warmer under the touch of my rough hands. She runs her hands over my arms as well, her touch sends shivers down my spine, she runs her hand over my overlly small breast, down to my mark firm belly but before she could go any further I quickly grab her wrist, stopping her.
‘’Wait!’’ I scream. ‘’I-I, I need to tell you something… before we go any further… I-I…’’ I don’t notice the tears until she wipes them away. I shiver, not in cold but in fear. I like Cryssa, I like how she can make me forget everything. I love and hate how she makes me go out of my comfort zone. I… I truly love how I feel when I’m with her. I do- I truly love her. But…
She kisses my forehead and pulls me in a gentle hug, rubbing my back and holding my head. I cling to her for dear life, she’s so warm and comforting I feel as if I’m being held by an angelic being.
‘’I’m… not who you think I am’’ I start speaking, it’s hard between the sobbing but I must tell her. ‘’I wasn’t born as I am now… I was something else. Someone else’’
‘’You mean you weren’t a brat before? That’s weird’’ she jokes. I chuckle between sobbing, almost choking with my own tears.
‘’As long as I’ve known I’ve been a brat but… when my mother was pregnant of me, she gave birth to… a boy’’
Those words felt like a rock going up my throat and out of my mouth. It has always been an issue for me, despite my parent's and sister's approval and support, I’ve always being bothered by other people. How I should be the right way and act as I should. I didn’t want to lie to myself, I always felt uncomfortable being the way they wanted me to be, and it was such an awful feeling.
I just wanted to be true to myself. I wanted to be free. I was a woman, but my body was a jail I had to live in.
Cryssa released me so she could look at my red and terrible face. She’s not angry or disgusted, she’s smiling at me. She brushed a few loose hairs away from my face and brushed her fingers to my lips.
‘’You’re a beautiful lady’’ her words feels like gold if that could be a feeling. ‘’You’re a brat, true. And yes, you can be pretty terrible sometimes, but you’re my beautiful and pretty lady’’
‘’But- this body… Doesn’t it bother you?’’
She puts her hand back to my chest, going down to my belly and resting on my muscular thighs. I moan softly, I’ve not let anyone touch me before, it feels weird and new but also very exciting in its own way.
‘’This body is yours. That makes it perfect to me’’ she whispers, pressing her forehead against mine.
I push her down, falling on top of her and kissing her with hunger. I run my hands down her body, squishing every plump part of her body that I can grab onto. Her moans are music to my ears and I feel myself growing warmer by the second.
We spend the night exploring our bodies. It was the first time I felt so comfortable in my own skin, I felt loved and accepted unapologetic. She made me feel… utterly beautiful.
By morning we were tangled together, cover by the blanket and using a pile of hay as a pillow. I’m awoken by the sound of the door opening, my sister Bianca came by to see if I was there since I didn’t return last night. It was an embarrassing scene to have to explain to her why I was laying naked with another woman, who was naked too.
She didn’t ask any questions thankfully and promised me not to tell another soul what she just saw. I asked her if she could bring both of us some clothes so we could go back for breakfast, she went running but not before telling me that she was happy for me.
Cryssa pulls me down with her, kissing my neck and sucking a small bruise.
‘’Let go of me! We need to get out before the others come too’’ I try to escape her embrace.
‘’Let them see us, that way they’ll know you’re mine’’ she whines, still a little sleepy.
‘’I haven’t say that I’m yours’’ Not that I’m too bothered by it but I can’t help but be a little sarcastic around her. ‘’What about you? Does that means that you’re mine as well?’’
She sits up and kisses me, stealing my breath and pressing myself against her naked chest.
‘’I’m yours, my pretty lady. Even though you’re an insufferable brat most of the time I can’t help but love you. Always have, always will’’
I kiss her back, this time soft and gentle. ‘’I love you too… Jackass. Now let’s get dress so we can go catch breakfast, okay?’’
28 notes · View notes
Headcanon: Adrien Agreste is Trans? 😮
Disclaimer: I’ve really been wanting to write this but it’s a bit of a weird topic (I think?) and I’ve been nervous about writing it aHa. You don’t have to agree with me on anything. I’m writing this for funsies, don’t take it too seriously. It’s just one of my many head canons for this show lol. Plus, I can understand a lot since I myself am trans. So some of it is me speaking from my own personal feelings/experiences I can relate to. Also, of course cisgender boys can have some of these qualities too. This is just looking at it from a specific perspective.
Adrien’s character design
My headcanon was actually first inspired by my sister, who pointed out Adrien’s character design is a bit more “feminine”. They gave him a very specific build that’s different compared to the other boys in the show.
They gave him a LOT of bulkiness in his chest and shoulders, but other than that, he’s super skinny and has a bit of curviness in his hips. His superhero uniform resembles Ladybug’s more so than the other boys’ superhero uniforms, which I always thought was a bit odd. The other boys are kind of bulky or pretty defined all around.
Secondly, of course any dude can have long hair, but Adrien’s like me with the layers he has in his hair. It’s tough for trans boys to go to a salon and ask for a more “masculine” haircut. So I remember I was given that same long layered “pixie” cut.
Adrien also has a lot of very soft, rounded facial features and not so much anything that’s very pointed.
One can argue that they made Felix look just like Adrien, so they just both happen to be trans? Truthfully, Felix’s character design is just extremely lazy because all they did was directly use Adrien’s character design. They also mention in that episode how Gabriel would confuse them as kids since they looked so similar. It could just be Adrien had shorter hair, even as a kid. We don’t know enough about his childhood to know (I’ll touch more on that in another section). Also, Felix being almost identical to Adrien was just such an unnecessary character trait to give him. Like they didn’t HAVE to make him look like Adrien, they just did so the Felix episode had a main plot device. (I’m mainly mad because Felix seems like overall such an unnecessary character that the writers just kind of randomly threw into the show because he was their original concept of Adrien and he can be used as another villain).
Before I started writing this, I rewatched some scenes in the show, and one that caught my attention was this scene in Style Queen.
“I feel awkward...”
He genuinely looks so uncomfortable being in his model outfit and staring at his reflection. Plagg kinda blows it off as him “looking ridiculous” but Adrien doesn’t really agree with him, he just sighs.
Then when he does his catwalk for Marinette in the next scene, he’s shocked and gets real timid when she compliments him on how good he was.
This isn’t the first instance of Adrien showing awkwardness when he models. There are other times we see he’s awkwardly posing, giving off a vibe of discomfort. It’s obvious modeling isn’t something he enjoys all that much and he could’ve easily been forced into the model position by his father. Maybe he just generally doesn’t like modeling, but when it comes down to it, modeling is consistently showing off your body which takes a certain kind of confidence, comfort, and poise to pull off. I feel like Adrien could easily fake this confidence and could dislike modeling because he feels a sense of bodily discomfort.
Also, even in a way of showing his personality, Adrien is shy and definitely a bit closed off from his own friends and fans in showing his truest self. I wrote a few reasons why that could be in my analysis of Adrien vs Cat Noir, but there’s no canon reason as to why Adrien is so timid when he has so many people that care about him. Closing yourself off emotionally and talking about your past can also be an effect of having dysphoria (dysphoria with personality traits and emotions exists too).
The times we see Adrien fully comfortable with himself is when he’s Cat Noir. Notice how he’s not closed off or faking any kind of confidence. He goes as far as overly flexing the muscles he (most likely) developed for himself in his superhero form and does this pretty often when he’s Cat Noir, which we’ve NEVER seen him do normally as Adrien. Wanting that more muscular build and acting very macho could easily connect back to him being trans. Sometimes we feel that need to overcompensate and act more “masculine”. But, seeing how Adrien acts normally with his guy friends, he clearly shows he’s very accepting and doesn’t push any sort of toxic masculinity.
We don’t know the backstory of how he grew up
Much like other characters in the show, the viewers aren’t given much insight as to how things were for Adrien growing up. The pictures that are set up in the Agreste household are fairly recent photos and not any of Adrien as a child. The most we see is just a stick figure drawing he drew of him and his parents which isn’t enough to go off of.
The most we know is that Chloe was his only friend growing up. But the question stands why was Chloe his only friend growing up? We’re not really given a timeline of how long Gabriel has kept Adrien sheltered. There’s always a possibility he forced Adrien to hang out with Chloe so much because Chloe is the stereotypical girly-girl (likes shoes, wearing makeup, doing her hair, etc.) and if Adrien was canonically trans, he could have grown up not liking girly things of that sort. I can see how that’d be off putting to Gabriel since he doesn’t strike me as the type to understand the LGBT+ community, plus he’s a fashion designer and it might’ve been weird to have a “daughter” who didn’t like fashion.
Additionally, like I talked about in my latest analysis of Adrien and Gabriel’s relationship, there’s a very odd, hard-to-explain disconnect. We also don’t know if Emilie’s passing necessarily caused the rift between Adrien and Gabriel - there’s no clear or obvious reason. Adrien’s given his father attitude on multiple occasions and of course Gabriel keeps Adrien sheltered from living a regular life, for the most part. I had mentioned that weird line of Gabriel telling Ladybug how “flawless” and “perfect” Adrien is, yet he treats his son so poorly. Adrien being trans would be a sensible reason for that because he sees good traits in Adrien, but doesn’t fully agree with or understand the concept of him being trans.
Internalized transphobia & homophobia
I feel like this is not an uncommon thing for trans folks to deal with. Internalizing phobias means you’re pitting something you dislike about yourself against yourself for your own validation.
Let me clarify some things. Adrien is seemingly very oblivious in the romantic relationship department...at least at first glance. He knows he likes Ladybug romantically but the feelings aren’t mutual. He’s also aware of Lila and Chloe’s interest in him and very much shows disinterest in return by pushing them away. But why does he not realize his feelings for Marinette, and vice versa? A possibility could be that he DOES feel and recognize something deep down, but is afraid to do anything about it, not only because of his love for Ladybug, but also because he is not at his truest, most “masculine”, most confident self when he’s Adrien. Cat Noir being confident, muscular, and more macho could be Adrien feeling his best, most authentic self. His normal civilian form is not how he sees himself and he could lose that confidence to confess anything to Marinette, since he doesn’t want her to like him for how he normally acts (“the model facade” as I’ve coined it). Pay attention to how there’s a bit more hesitation when he’s “making a move” on her - both as Marinette and Ladybug - he’s Adrien. But, when he’s Cat Noir, he barely flinches in being flirtatious.
When you have dysphoria, at times you can view yourself as having more traits like the gender you were assigned at birth. If Adrien thinks he comes off as more feminine normally, he wouldn’t want to be judged for dating a girl when he himself is “feminine”. Any sign of him not passing, could be something he worries about, even though he is in fact male.
Also the thing the I mentioned about him closing off his personality can point back to internalized transphobia, as well. He might not WANT to be seen as a trans boy, but just as a regular boy. Opening up about his past could segway into revealing him being raised as a daughter for a portion of his life.
Some of my reasons might sound like a stretch, but I think Adrien being trans would make an interesting plot point and tie into why he acts the way that he does. Miraculous already has great LGBT+ representation (despite it being rather lowkey). So it wouldn’t be hurtful to the show if this was the case. In fact, it’d be really neat and inspiring to have a trans superhero, especially since trans kids would have a wonderful character to idolize and relate to.
44 notes · View notes
A thing about Anthony Mackie
Ugh, I didn’t want to be writing this this evening but here we are. Anyway, here are my thoughts. I am not really up for talking about it much though. V exhausted.
[behind the cut for reasons of: references to homophobia, references to racism, some length, me being an Anthony fan and this not having changed]
1. I’m really not sure that what Anthony said in that Variety interview came out quite as he intended it. It was somewhat ambiguous and nonsensical to me (though I have only read the transcript so far). But whatever, I mean, maybe i’m just soft-hearted and old and reading it wrong but to my mind it... wasn’t that bad?
2. At any rate, whatever he precisely meant, I really don’t think he’s homophobic.
3. The pressure on Anthony as a Black man when it comes to portraying masculinity is extremely extra intense. The pressure on him as a Black man playing Captain America is also extremely extra intense. He’s under so much scrutiny, a lot of it very hostile and racist. Fellow white fans: please can we be very and especially aware of this, and be extra aware that not all of those finding fault with him will be doing so for valid reasons so we should be really really careful what we’re reblogging just now?
4. Just in general: please can we cut him some fricking slack?
5. In fact please can we generally give actors that bit more fricking slack when they don’t express themselves perfectly in interviews, and/or don’t say what we most want them to say? I’m not saying we should excuse everything but, within reason, some generosity of spirit seems occasioned? Especially as I doubt any of us would manage any better; I know I wouldn’t. I’d be flailing about all over the place, saying any amount of stuff that would come out all wrong. Also: an actor’s job is to act, not to answer interview questions. It’s a totally different skillset - and one that most actors never come close to needing.
6. There is a problem with Hollywood being reluctant to show platonic affection and love between men. It is true that the reasons for this are actually about Hollywood’s homophobia (inc. its homophobic reaction to shipping culture) rather than about shipping culture itself, and it’s not anything like as big a problem as Hollywood’s reluctance to have actual queer relationships ever. Hollywood is fucking homophobic and it’s exhausting. But, you know. The lack of really close platonic affection between men in media portrayals is a real thing, and I suspect is often worse when the men aren’t both white. Fundamentally Hollywood’s pretty terrible at realistic and positive portrayals of *all* kinds of love; this is one example. And Mackie’s allowed to find this one frustrating, as an (as far as we know) het man whose friendships are clearly very important to him.
7. I am a queer, nonbinary trans man and I’m slightly older than Anthony; I’ve also been shipping m/m and f/f characters for literal decades. Like, I don’t want to police anyone else’s response; if fellow queers are feeling hurt by his comment, of course that’s valid, and you absolutely don’t have to like him. But for myself: nah, I still like him a lot, obviously I wish he’d said something different and expressed what he did say better but I’m still good with him. (And sambucky is still my second favourite mcu ship (jointly with samstevebucky ;-) ) after stucky! I didn’t get any impression that Anthony actually minds people shipping, fwiw. And none of these ships was ever going to become canon under Disney+ anyway, we know this.)
8. There’s a horrible likelihood that this incident will be seized on the harassment culture perpetrators and that Anthony’s going to have an extremely rough time for a while. Especially because he is Black and already under horrible amounts of racist scrutiny. Also because he’s close friends with Sebastian Stan who’s also having a very rough time with harassers, and I suspect some of those may now start including Anthony in the harassment. :-( I hope I’m wrong on all these counts, because no one deserves that bullshit. :-/
Urrrggh. Not really intending to write any more on this, but just. I wanted to say those things. <3
17 notes · View notes
i just saw a few of your posts about pre mechanization, and i would LOVE to hear more. i care this man so much and your thoughts on him are extremely choice!!
AH FINALLY I HAVE CONVERTED SOMEONE TO THE PRE-DRUMBOT BRAINROT!!
yes I am extremely happy to scream about the love of my life Brian M. Lazarus thank you so much for asking!!!
So, first things first, I AM in the process of writing two things about my beloved pre-drumbot, at least one of which will hopefully be finished soon! One of them is more of a character study type thing that tracks his life from before he was mechanized up through his final death. It’s kind of just... my thoughts about both pre-drumbot and drumbot turned into a vaguely narrative format?? I posted something with one of my favorite lines from it so far earlier. But I am ALSO working on rewriting Brian’s entire backstory and fleshing out both it and him some more. I’m really excited about both of these things and I hope people like them once they’re done.
BUT FOR NOW: some of my Pre-Drumbot Thoughts, because he’s a bastard and I love him very much.
- he’s extremely farsighted, like he can read a sign that’s fifteen feet away but if you put something right in front of him he has not a fucking clue what it is
- he wears glasses because of this, but he constantly forgets he needs them.
-he doesn’t believe in magic, he thinks there’s a logical and reasonable explanation for everything and he doesn’t see the point in dreaming about things that will most likely just leave you disappointed
- He never lies. He honestly can’t see the point in telling people what they want to hear or trying to deceive them because they’ll have to learn the truth eventually and so why not... just say it? He’s extremely blunt and has absolutely NO filter for what comes out of his mouth. He’s such a bitch I love him.
- he is NOT a people person, but he hates being alone.
- he has a crippling fear of losing what good things he has and then forgetting all about them, because it happened to him once before.
- he has a wandering mind, but when he sets it on something he becomes extremely hyperfocused and will not rest until he gets that thing done or whatever.
- he drinks strong black coffee and strong black coffee only. He often has to be reminded that water is something he needs to live.
- he likes to feel like he’s in control, he needs to know how everything works and how to take it apart and put it back together, otherwise he starts panicking. He hates not knowing.
- he actually has no idea how to handle his own emotions. If there’s physical damage, sure he knows how to fix it, he’s got that. But if it’s emotional, he’s completely lost. And he can’t stand it. Because, like I said, he likes being in control.
- he is an Ace of Sexual
- he doesn’t like being touched without warning.
- he has a cat! it followed him home one day and he was just like. why not. he talks to it when he’s trying to work through a problem, bounces ideas off of it.
- he drums his fingers on any available surface and hums constantly. He doesn’t realize he does it.
- he looks somewhat like the Brian we know, but he has darker hair, is a bit broader and stockier, and has bright green eyes. I do not know why I think this but I have such a clear image of him in my head.
- he makes a great pillow. very soft with a bit of chub.(look i just. this is important.)
- he’s married!!!! he has a tiny trans redhead husband named Logan who paints and I love him with all of my heart. He dies.
I KNOW i have more but right now my brain isn’t fully working so you’ll have to wait til I post one of the fics or something but. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING ABOUT PRE-DRUMBOT!!!! He means so much to me I am happy to scream about him whenever and am willing to go into more detail about him or anything about him at any time!!!
I hope this was good? Thank you!!!
32 notes · View notes
Top Surgery - John x FtM!Reader
Hey y'all. I want to take a moment to say a huge THANK YOU to everyone who's interacted with this fic so far, especially over the unplanned hiatus it went through. My life's taken a couple of unexpected turns lately, but I'm happy to say that I'm now in a stable place both physically and mentally, so I'll be able to update more frequently! And I'm incredibly appreciative for all the kind words you guys have been sending my way <3 you're the best!
Also - I GOT MY FIRST REQUEST!!! JQNDJQOQNDHDOQNQLSPFJRB!!! I'm gonna continue writing Neighbors after this, but OH GOLLY GOSH AM I EXCITED!!!
I got this request on AO3 from the user xXFrankenHeartXx:
"You said that you take requests so. What about John taking care of the reader after they finally get a double mastectomy they've been saving up for. I can just imagine him being so gentle and the reader being so happy to see their chest for the first time after it's done."
Neighbors - Sherlock x FtM!Reader
AO3 and Wattpad links
Word Count: 1833
TW: surgery mention, transphobia mention, minor violence, injury, blood mention
John had been nothing but kind, caring, and supportive since you'd started dating almost three years ago, and your top surgery was no different. He'd stayed by your side through it all; the countless appointments, the financial struggle, all your worries and fear...he'd even told Sherlock he couldn't go on as many cases so he could stay home and help you recover (which resulted in Sherlock bringing as many cases home as he could, but you didn't mind; it was a nice distraction).
It'd been a month since your surgery, and today you'd finally be able to remove the compression wrap. You knew you'd have to re-wrap your chest in gauze afterwards, but the excitement of seeing your flat, male-sculpted chest for the first time was the only thing on your mind.
"Can we do it now? Pretty please?" You asked, giving John your very best puppy dog eyes.
"No, love. The doctor said we should remove everything in the evening so you can lay down afterwards, since you'll probably be in a bit of pain." John smiled sympathetically as he recited the same answer he'd been giving you all day. You sighed dramatically, your head rolling back against the pillows stacked behind you.
John had insisted you rest for most of the day, to save your energy for tonight. Your recovery had been going smoothly, but it was taking a lot longer than you'd expected to be able to move your arms normally again. You could handle small motions like grabbing a drink off the bedside table, or messing around on your phone; but extending your arms more than a few inches away from your body was almost impossible. The doctor said that after you took off the compression wrap you could start daily stretches to further your recovery, which was another reason you were so eager for tonight.
And John, being the loving and caring boyfriend he is, never made you feel like a burden, even though you constantly needed his help. Tonight he'd even gone so far as to build you a pillow throne on your shared bed, and rent a bunch of movies for you to watch together to celebrate.
"Would cuddling make the wait a little more bearable?" John asked, eyes shining as he grinned at you.
Cuddling hadn't been easy since the surgery; one wrong move or shift could send a bolt of pain through your body at any moment. Since snuggling was your favorite way to relax, going a whole month without it was absolute torture.
"You're lifting the cuddle ban?" You asked with wide, hopeful eyes. John chuckled,
"Yes, I'm lifting the cuddle ban."
"YES!" You cheered. "Snuggles!!!"
John scooted over and carefully positioned you in front of him, so your back was against his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, resting his head on your shoulder.
"Much, much better." You sighed, melting into John's touch, putting your arms over his. "I missed this so much."
"Me too, love." He whispered, burying his face in your neck. "Me too."
Being in John's arms made the rest of the world fade away, your focus drawn only to the man beside you.
The man who'd never once dead-named or misgendered you.
The man who'd fought those that disrespected you.
The man who loved you as wholeheartedly as you loved him.
As you relaxed, your mind drifted to the memory of the day you and John met...
The hustle and bustle of London nightlife echoed around you as you stood in front of The Yard Bar, a popular date destination for gay men. You hated bars, but since your friend, Shelley, had set up this date for you, you hadn't had much of a choice.
Shelley was a sweet, hardworking woman; you two had clicked almost instantly when you were put on the same team for a project at work. She'd been trying to set you up on a blind date for a while now, but you'd always been (understandably) reluctant. However, this time Shelley had sworn that if you went on this date, she'd never try and set you up for one again. You knew she'd stick to her word, so you agreed, eager to stop her never-ending texts about guys who'd be "Just perfect for you!".
"(Y/N)?" You jumped at the deep voice, whirling around to see a tall, burly man with short ginger hair and square glasses standing behind you. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm Ronald." He said, chuckling.
"I'm (Y/N). Oh, but I guess you already knew that..." You smiled awkwardly as a deep blush spread across your face. "It's nice to meet you."
"It's nice to meet you, too. I like your outfit."
"Oh, thanks!" You replied, your grin becoming more genuine. You'd chosen a pair of black jeans, black converse, and a long-sleeved black button-up shirt with an embroidered cat peeking out of the pocket.
"Yea, it's always nice to meet a woman who isn't afraid to dress the way she wants."
"I'm actually trans male, so I use he/him pronouns." The response rolled off your tongue with practiced ease; a result of the constant misgendering you endured since you were rather...well-endowed.
"Huh?" A look of confusion crossed Ronald's face before he let out a small huff. "Oh, you're serious about that? I thought Shelley was joking when she told me you were transgendered or whatever."
"She was most certainly not joking." You retorted, your tone taking a more serious edge. "I'm a man." Ronald continued laughing, your declaration falling on deaf ears. "Is that funny to you?"
"Hey now, chill girlie," He said, holding up a hand as he caught his breath. You felt your blood boiling as he spoke, "You were born a girl, weren't you? It's not like you can change DNA."
"My gender is not a joke. I. Am. A. Man." You seethed, ready to put this jackass in his place. "If this is how you treat people - women, men, or otherwise - then you don't deserve another second of my time." With that, you turned and started to storm away, but before you could go more than a few steps you felt a hand wrap around your wrist.
"Where do you think you're going, bitch?" Ronald asked, yanking hard on your arm; nearly making you fall. "This date isn't over yet."
"Let go!" You yelled, pushing and punching him with all your might. Ronald just tightened his grip on your wrist, making you wince.
Just as you were about to scream for help, someone's fist connected with Ronald's face, causing him to lose his hold on you and spin away, clutching his now-bleeding nose.
"That's no way to treat someone, let alone a date! Now fuck off!" The mystery savior said. Ronald scampered off without another word, like a dog with it's tail between it's legs.
You looked over and saw a well-built man with short, blonde hair and a brown bomber jacket rubbing his wrist idly as he watched your would-be date run for the hills.
"Are you alright?" He asked, turning to you.
"Oh, um, yea. Yea, I should be fine. Thank you for that." The man chuckled, shaking his head lightly.
"No problem. I'm John, by the way. John Watson." He said, extending his hand.
"I'm (Y/F/N)." You reached out and noticed that your wrist was bright red, and the adrenaline of the past few moments was being replaced with pain. "Oh gosh..."
"May I?" He asked, gesturing to your injury. "I'm a doctor."
"Oh, um...sure." John held your wrist gently, poking it here and there, eliciting small hisses of pain from you.
"Well, it's not broken or sprained, but you'll have a nasty bruise. I'd suggest keeping it iced as often as you can to help with the swelling."
"Thanks." You said with a soft smile. "I best go home and get some ice, then."
"Er, well, actually..." John started, rubbing the back of his neck. "I, um - I have ice at my flat. And we could order in?"
"Are you trying to sweep me off my feet, Mr. Hero?" You smirked, seeing John blush.
You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice your phone beeping. John reached over, shutting off the alarm you'd set in anticipation for the night's events and pulling you from your trance as he started getting up, but your hand on his arm made him pause.
"(Y/N)? You okay?"
"Yea, just...I love you." You smiled softly. John returned your smile and leaned it, catching your lips in a tender kiss that made your heart skip a beat.
"I love you too." The two of you made your way to the bathroom, grinning like love-struck teenagers.
"Okay Dr. Watson, what do I need to do?" You asked, nudging John playfully. He rolled his eyes at you, grabbing a pair of scissors.
"I just need you to hold your arms up away from the bandages so I can cut them off without the risk of cutting you." You faced the mirror and stretched your arms up as far as you could without pain.
"Is this good enough?"
"Uh..." John trailed off, the look on his face answering your question.
"This is gonna hurt, isn't it?"
"Sorry love." You sighed, taking a moment to gather your courage.
"Alright. Can you help me?" John nodded, setting the scissors down and standing in front you, putting his hands under your arms.
"Deep breaths, love." Your breath stuttered a few times as John guided your arms up, but the pain was manageable. "Stay right there, I promise I'll be quick." You screwed your eyes shut, focusing on your breathing as a deep ache stirred in your chest and shoulders, causing tears to prick the corners of your eyes. After what felt like thousands of snips and cuts, the wrappings fell away from your body and you let your arms fall as well.
"Owwww..." You moaned, leaning on John for support. He held you close, rubbing a soothing hand across your back and whispering softly about how tough you were, and how well you handled everything.
"Do you wanna look in the mirror?" He asked after a moment. "We can lay down afterwards and I'll get us some ice cream." You giggled softly, nodding.
"Let's see the damage." You lifted your head as John moved to your side, his arm around your shoulders. A gasp escaped your lips as your eyes fell on your reflection. The skin was red and tender; a long, large scar revealing the path the scalpel had taken. But it was flat. Completely flat. You felt the tears return as you ran a hand carefully over your chest. "I...i-it's...wow..." You stuttered, at a loss for words. Glancing over to John's reflection you saw that he, too, was crying.
"You're as beautiful as ever, (Y/N)."
29 notes · View notes
hi hello again! today i’m here to hand you guys a little bit of good boy nik since i’m so crazy about him (and auguste as well). i have to thank alina for writing that prompt and bringing them into our lives. i really hope you guys like them as much as i did 💛 let's give some love to the beautiful trans bodies
thank you @mrs-amber for proofreading it to me, you’re always an angel.
cw: a/b/o, alpha auguste, omega nikandros, trans nikandros, slight mention of dysphoria
well, everybody knows that auguste likes to tease, and it gets worse when his precious omega, nikandros – better known as nik –, is close to his heat. nik really loves to please his alpha so he always wears the clothes that auguste buys and chooses for him. on that specific day, auguste had chosen a very mini deep blue skirt for him to wear, together with one of his white social shirts. uncommon for omegas, nik is buff, his muscles builded, his shoulders broad, and knowing these things, auguste never made him wear this kind of clothing – although it was mostly because he didn't want to cause a crisis of dysphoria on nik, even before his top surgery. it was a surprise for nik to see them on the bed, but the biggest surprise was to look in the mirror and feel pretty dressed up like that. his thighs felt pretty, his arms and his hair. everything. he liked to be pretty for his alpha. and maybe the best was auguste’s eyes burning towards him. the contrast between them was exciting. while auguste was dressed from head to toe with a tailor-made suit, tight in all those fabric, nik was mostly exposed, all the length of his legs displayed to anyone who wanted to see.
“look what a pretty boy i have here” auguste crooned immediately as he saw nik, kissing him on the mouth, biting his lip and putting zero effort on keeping his hands away from the omega’s body, pushing him slightly against the wall, his tongue slipping right into nik’s mouth. nik gasped, already feeling heady. happily, auguste moved away before he could faint. “we gotta go, darling, unfortunately. even though i would love to stay here and eat you whole.”
nik preferred to not say anything, otherwise he would definitely let out a pleading whin. he knew his heat was close, he probably had more two days, but he was already feeling drowned in warmness. auguste took him by the hand and guided him to the car, where they sat together in the back seats. now auguste’s hand rested on nik’s thigh, hot upon his soft skin. nik could think that it was only his husband being caring and lovely, if he didn't know him, but he did, and better than anyone else. auguste’s hand kept slipping up and down, almost finding its way to the inner part of nik’s thighs, who was trying to keep his breath stable. it wasn't an easy task.
“can you stop?” nik dared to ask, his voice was barely a whisper. auguste glanced at him, raising an eyebrow, a smirk in his lips. “please?”
“i don’t think so.”
“auguste...” nik whined, his eyes widening at the sight of auguste’s hand grabbing his thigh, the flesh leaking between his fingers. he squeezed nik tightly, digging his short nails in the sensitive skin.
“you have to be a good boy for me, baby, understood? you have to behave. you don't want to embarass daddy in front of his friends, do you?” he asked, his nose sniffing at nik’s neck. nik shook his head. he didn't want that, he would never! he wanted to be a good boy, so auguste would compliment him and display him to his friends and they would be so jealous because the only man who would ever be able to have nik was auguste. “good. stay silent for a moment, honey.”
nik pressed his thighs together, his hand slipping to touch auguste’s knee. auguste leaned forward to kiss his ear and temple, moving to his cheekbone and then to his lips. nik moaned softly against auguste’s lips and received a slap on the cheek as response. after that, auguste moved away again with a low chuckle and the car stopped. they had arrived.
they would spend almost the whole day in the club where they had met for the first time, a building in the middle of nowhere that looked more like a castle than a club. auguste helped nik to get out of the car and held him by the waist as they walked inside. auguste went directly to the table where his friends were and told nik to get a drink for him. nik could hear them talking as he walked to the bar:
“auguste, pal, your omega only gets more…”
“watch your words, jord.” auguste said, narrowing his eyes.
“... beautiful, over the years.” jord concluded, shooting up his eyebrows. auguste laughed slightly, pushing nik closer as he came back.
“i have to agree.” he said, taking his drink from nik’s hand. he didn't let pass the fact that it was trembling, his eyes always saw everything. “greet these gentlemen, baby. they were saying how beautiful you are. thank them.”
“thank you for your kindness.” nik said, smiling beautifully. auguste looked at him with pride in his eyes.
nik stayed still, looking pretty at auguste’s side until the end of the afternoon, just watching him and his friends playing poker, chess and other games while talking about business they had in common. at night, more people arrived at the club, the sound of chatting became louder and more scents mixed up. nik couldn't handle the smell of the perfumes that people often wore to mask their own scent and he hated it even more when he was close to his heat. he felt his stomach clench because of it. of course, auguste noticed his annoyance.
“are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, touching nik’s leg under the table.
“these amount of scents are annoying my nose” nik answered, almost whining for his daddy to take him away from there. auguste nodded, fondly stroking his warm skin up and down again, finding a way to his pussy. nik faltered, surprised, lightly spreading his legs so auguste could touch him better.
“nik, are you okay?” vannes asked, her eyes wandering worried through his face.
“yes, lady vannes. it's just the weather, i think. nothing to worry about.” nik answered, trying to sound convincing instead of helpless.
“maybe you should take a walk outside for some minutes, darling. talik would love to make you company.”
he felt sweaty already, and auguste wasn't even touching directly on him. his fingers were soothing circles upon the fabric of his panties, his eyes on jord and laurent's game like he was doing nothing to nik.
“i don't think it's necessary, lady vannes. please, don't worry about me” he said, a tiny smile on his lips. auguste pushed his hand further between his legs. “i’m fine.”
“well, if you say so.” she said, glancing at him one last time after turning around to look at her omega.
“aren’t you ashamed of lying so shamelessly at lady vannes’ face, baby?” auguste asked, sneaking his hand into nik’s panties. nik couldn't restrain himself and leaned his hips towards auguste’s sassy, smart fingers. auguste stroke above his slit, burying his fingers into nik’s wetness. nik shook his head lightly. “i bet you aren't. look at you, all wet, among all those people. what a filthy baby you are.”
“please” nik keened, for auguste’s ears only. “don’t do this.”
auguste grinned, getting up and taking nik by his elbow. “you will have to excuse me, friends. i have to take care of nik.” he said, guiding nik to one of the rooms in the back, where no one could see them.
auguste took nik by the waist, kissing him fiercely, leaving him breathless. nik feelt very affected by auguste’s lack of control over his alpha's scent, it made him feel so dizzy and lightheaded that he could barely stand by himself. this wasn't a problem since auguste was strong enough to hold him. he took one of nik’s legs and lifted it up, pulling his panties to the side so he could finger him easily, flattening his fingers on his clit while he kissed nik all over the face, drinking his moans from his mouth.
“daddy” nik cried, his head falling back, exposing his neck to auguste, but he was busy giving all his attention to nik’s wet and needy pussy. “daddy, please. please. fuck me. please.” he pleaded, rubbing his nose on auguste’s pale skin, his breath hitching.
“i can't. not here” auguste groaned, sounding impatient, the wet sound of his fingers diving inside of nik loud between those four walls. “turn around for me, love, will you?”
nik was very aware of the bulge in auguste’s pants as he made what was asked, he was eager to push himself to his daddy’s cock, but when he tried to do it, auguste’s hands held him still by the waist and he leaned forward to kiss nik’s nape and his back, upon his shirt. desire grew inside nik at each minute.
“daddy, please” he blurted out and stopped breathing altogether as he felt auguste’s cock between his thighs. “fuck!” he moaned, blindsided, he hadn't heard auguste unzipping his pants, but it didn't matter.
“you look so gorgeous like this, baby. you should be able to see yourself” auguste said, his voice soft and breathless. all the praises made nik whin, he felt weak. “keep your legs pressed like this, baby. yes, like this. i’m going to fuck your thighs and you will come beautifully for daddy.”
“yes, daddy. please. please.”
auguste didn't need more motivation than that. he held nik tightly in his hands, thrusting his cock between nik’s thighs, maybe too much aware that he was rubbing against his popping pussy. nik came with a loud and long cry, whining for his daddy to wreak him. auguste came right after, bundling nik’s body inside his arms. they were all dirty, auguste’s cock soaked up with nik’s orgasm and auguste’s slick cum trailing down his thighs. nik was completely stricken, leaning on the wall, breathing heavily with his eyes closed. auguste kissed his sweaty cheek, crooning to his ear:
“i’ll take care of you.”
19 notes · View notes
What’s your opinion on Boba/Luke?
i’m so down for it you have no idea. i actually have a bolu prompt coming up soon! i’m not sure if you’re asking to check the ship before you prompt, or if you’re wanting a full-blown answer so surprise you get both!
it did not even cross my lil ol’ mind until @amiro-art posted this and just. look how soft.
i write so much obi-wan centric stuff that it’s easy to miss that luke fecking skywalker means the absolute world to me, and rewatching the original trilogy before seeing force awakens in the theater is what finally sold me on star wars (even though i grew up with the prequels/the 2003 clone wars.) like i am BIG GAY for mark hamill in a new hope, and then just? luke is such a good character? flawed and earnest and so unspeakably queer and can be read as trans so easily? and tHEN SKYSOLO???
but you’re not here for skysolo so lemme talk about boba. because i didn’t super care about him until i fell into jangobi and read stuff where he wasn’t just a throwaway villain in original trilogy stories (which he was. george lucas didn’t expect people to latch onto him and YET he spawned the entire idea of mandalorians, what a good boy 🤧) and like i don’t crush on characters, but i will PARENT THE FUCK out of them and boba is my son. they did him so dirty in the clone wars but that’s another story.
AND NOW imagine just. smooshing these two soft babies together.
i beg you to imagine lil bby luke tryna get power converters at toshi station, and he sees this big bad mandlorian struggling with a ship repair and luke just. goes over and starts helping him, talkin’ about “oh i’ve fixed tons of plasma lines on my speeder, i had to build it myself and you wouldn’t believe how often it gets banged up in beggar’s canyon” and boba is on his back halfway under his ship just staring at this crazy kid that can apparently take on beggar’s canyon on the regular? and isn’t absolutely intimidated by him? and is helping him for free?
do you think he almost offers to buy luke a drink in thanks and then’s like “wait. him baby.” so instead he offers to look over luke’s speeder and make a few upgrades in exchange, and then months later they’re both buying supplies in mos eisly and run into each other and luke jokingly asks if boba needs help with his ship again, and they spend the afternoon talking shop while boba lends a hand in repairing whatever damage luke had managed to get on his last run in beggar’s canyon. dooo you think boba is so unused to people being genuinely kind to him? that the closest he’s been to people in a decade and a half has been the people he’s slept with? and luke doesn’t want anything from him except conversation and stories from the stars, and boba just doesn’t know what to do about that so he lets it keep happening. maybe he takes more and more jobs from jabba just to be in the system for a few days every few months.
now imagine boba’s come back from a long job somewhere in the core and he’s at toshi station wondering if the force is going to sway in his favour again and luke’ll be there, but instead he hears all the mechanics and spacers talking about the Lars homestead going up in flames, about the jawas that had been slaughtered in the desert nearby, and “isn’t it sad that nice farm boy won’t get to go to the academy like he’d always dreamt?”
now i ask if you think boba goes to check the ruins of the lars home, or if he cuts his losses like he has his entire life and never wants to know if luke had been killed with his family or with the jawas.
now just imagine what a clusterfuck everything at bespin would be when boba finds out which luke vader is laying the trap for.
232 notes · View notes
Tamara, The Betrayer
So, I was writing a response to a post by @teartra and @fxthieves (link will be in first rb) that was talking about the characters, and me being me, I wanted to hone in on one really niche aspect of Tamara’s character and then it hit 1k words and I decided it needed to be its own post lmao
I’m going to put this out there: I like that she does this! It adds a really interesting layer to her character, and especially in regards to how the reader will interpret her relationships with Call and authority! However, the way that these fairly serious breaches of trust are handled (or rather, not handled) is.... really bad.
Also, as an additional preface: I am not arguing whether or not Tamara was right to betray Call in these situations, nor does any of this make Tamara a bad person or a bad character- they make CC and HB bad writers, and Tamara seriously underdeveloped. Don’t let this make you hate her!!! Let this be the motivation that you need to write her the narrative that she deserves!
There are two main betrayals that I’m going to bring up here: when Tamara tells Rufus about Alastair in TCG, and when she abandons Call with Joseph in TSM.
Both of these happen because Tamara thinks that she knows better than Call, and so she goes over his head and reports him to authority figures; namely, the Assembly. In both cases, there is danger in going to the Assembly. In TCG, the Assembly know knows to target Call’s father, and Call has serious (and reasonable) worries that Alastair will be hurt. In TSM… well, even before the whole continuation of the war thing, she knows that the Assembly has imprisoned Call in the past. Now that’s he successfully raised the dead, what does she think they’re going to do??? Throw him a party?
Now, I’d like to note that this is narratively appropriate- someone has to raise the stakes (although how high the stakes rose in TSM is.... borderline laughable), and Tamara does this in a way that tells us about her and creates drama within the group to be brought up later. The problem here is that it never really comes up again, as so often happens with these books. Call just forgives her after a little while (or after no time at all in the case of TSM), which makes their relationship feel really awkward, makes Tamara look like an asshole, and makes the whole Aaron-in-Call’s-head thing so much weirder- like, fam, this girl was ready to start a war bc you didn’t want to kill him, but now that he’s living in your body (and feeding you lines?), it’s all cool?? No hard feelings from anyone involved????????? Hello????????????????
If they had actually fought over this and come to a compromise- I’m not saying it would have sold me on Calmara, but jesus christ, it would have made me a lot more comfortable throughout TGT. It definitely would have made their relationship more secure!
Going a little deeper into the implications that these betrayals have for the Calmara relationship, I think that this says something about the way that she sees Call.
As a disabled person, the way that she circumvents Call’s judgement kiiiiiiind of feels like ableism. One of the biiiiig issues in the realm of ableism is something called “infantiliziation”. On Tumblr, this is usually discussed in regards to turning people into soft uwu (usually very femme, for extra sexism) babies who can’t make their own decisions and calling them idiots, etc. This is also more commonly discussed in regards to afab trans people, east Asians, and neurodivergent folks, but it’s still a big problem in physically disabled people- however, this is usually seen in the later stages, where disability/presentation is seen as a reason to take away autonomy. That sounds drastic, but it often happens in small ways, often ones that are intended to be helpful, like steering a wheelchair user without asking, or trying to lead a blind person by grabbing them. It often happens subconsciously!
Whether or not you think it’s ableism, I think it does show that she thinks of herself as above Call, at least unconsciously. She decides unilaterally that her own judgement is best in both of these cases, even though Call is more informed on the issue at hand. Now, you could argue that Tamara was coming at it from a less emotional, more objective angle, but she also steamrolls Call’s attempts to justify/explain his rationale, which makes this questionable to me. (Again, not arguing whether or not she was right to do this, just going over how this affects her character!) This makes sense for her character- she comes from a place of really high privilege within the mage community, and we see her benefiting from it.
This is likely also a reason for the way that Tamara betrays Call; she does it by going to the Assembly. Tamara grew up with the Assembly, and as a rich legacy with parents on the board, she’s never really seen them as anything but good. In other words, she grew up with a massive amount of privilege, and it’s this privilege that makes her turn to these authority again and again. She believes that they are fair and rational, most likely because they are fair and rational to her, even with evidence to the contrary.
(Sidebar: that privilege also ties in to something I’ve mentioned in the past: Tamara is the book smart one of the group, and she understands how to move through mage society, but she is not the one with real knowledge of the world. The person with actual practical knowledge of this system, the world, and how it treats people? That’s Aaron!)
Now, I'm going to reiterate what I said at the start because I know that this seems to be a very negative piece: DO NOT HATE ON TAMARA BECAUSE OF THIS!!!!!!!!! Yes, I’m talking about a lot of flaws that she has, but those flaws are good! Flaws tells us about who Tamara could be, should be, and how she should have grown over the course of the narrative. This is also a very narrow analysis, focusing entirely on two interactions, one of which happened when the books had gotten so bad that they’ve largely been ignored. Tamara Rajavi has the potential to be an incredible character, and her flaws are just one facet to be explored.
26 notes · View notes
I’m not sure what you mean by ‘fanfic Boxes for trans characters’ and now I’m worried to ask, and wondering whether I’ve run into them but had the privilege of not needing to notice...
So, I don't want to undermine that trans writers are able to explore gender and sexuality and just existence through fanfiction in ways that traditional publishing isn't good at supporting. That's awesome! I love it! I’ve discovered some of my fav indie adventure & romance & erotica authors by jumping from their trans fanfic to their trans original fic.
But! There are a lot of weird dynamics in fanfiction that are worth being conscious of.
I tried to constrain this to things that feel unique to fanfiction; a lot of the things that bother me are reflected in literature more broadly, so I’ve tried not to address those here.
The root of it probably comes down to something like “fanfiction’s unique systems for tagging and sharing and trope-dependent storytelling often just treat transness like it’s ‘having x body and y pronouns and z sexual role’ and nothing more.” It’s, first-off, fetishy, but it’s also just... sad and limiting?
1. Fanfiction tagging standards emphasize assigned gender at birth while categorizing the characters. It's not, "Trans Character," it's "Trans Male Character." When the character is nonbinary, it's often still "AMAB Character" or "AFAB Character." There's nothing like. inherently wrong with this -- as a trans person it makes it easier for me to find and read stories about other trans people of similar identities! That's cool. But it also primes fanfiction readers and writers to view trans people's assigned gender as something that can be used to simply categorize us. Reality is a lot more complicated than that. (Coincidentally, it also makes it really easy for cis readers to continue being obsessed with trans people's genitals.)
2. It depends on the fandom, but I've read a HUGE number of fics that label characters as "trans" but do not in any way consider trans experience (either a real-life one OR a speculative/fictionalized one set in a different world). Often these stories just swap genitals around and slap a tag on the story claiming that the character is trans because they want to genderswap a character but they don't want to get heat for being transphobic. It can read like people want to play around with our bodies but refuse to consider our experiences.
The Good Omens fandom was RIFE with this -- tons of fics where it's like "oh, Aziraphale and/or Crowley are trans. infinite AUs where the only difference in characterization is which genital and pronoun combinations they have" and that's it. That's the full extent of the thought put into it. No thoughts about how that affects the way they interact with the world, how they might think or feel about themselves and their relation to each other and their relation to other angels and their relation to humans. Just bodies! (Also, there's tons of LOVELY, thoughtful fics that do the exact opposite of that; I cherish them.)
Another example of this one... I read hundreds of trans masc fics set in all-human universes from ~2014-2015, a lot of which were supposed to be about trans characters on testosterone, but only ONE of them even attempted to biologically describe how testosterone actually changes the body. It was so rare that when it happened I literally couldn’t figure out what was going on, had to go google a bunch of things, and discovered a lot of new information about hormone therapy. (This bit HAS gotten a lot better since then, but it still makes me go "OOF.")
3. Fanfiction tends to continuously find ways to replicate heterosexism through the ways it frames trans characters -- assumptions about who's top, who's bottom, who's aggressive, who's submissive, on and on and on, even in g-t rated fics. This is just a feature of fanfiction at large, obviously, and rears its head in cis gay ships and cis het ships and everywhere else. It just gets really transparent when you see the exact same romantic and sexual dynamics over and over again identically, based on assigned gender at birth with fresh pronouns. There are so many ways to fall in love and live in your body and have sex or not have sex, especially as a trans person! But you'd never know it just scrolling through the trans character tags.
I thought about trying to list some of the most consistent tropes here, but part of the issue is that... the tropes themselves aren’t really the problem? like the problem isn’t that fanfic writers write trans men as soft subby bottoms uwu to their big gruff masculine cis partner. (I know lots of guys like that! They’re lovely! They deserve to see themselves in things!) The issue is more the unilateral nature of it all, the way that so many readers and writers seem incapable of envisioning anything BUT x y z set of tropes.
4. Where are the trans women and nonbinary characters? Yes, there are a lot of trans men writing fic, and fic is ultimately a form of self-indulgence/wish fulfillment, and that's part of why all of this happens. But this is one place where traditional publishing does WILDLY better than fanfiction -- which isn’t saying much, because there’s only a handful of editors with “large” publishers buying books about trans women, and only a handful more buying books about nonbinary people. But... like... seriously, for all the sub-fandom spaces I’ve seen trans headcanons in, only... two? have regularly interpreted a main character as transfeminine? And this likely also has a broader connection to fandom culture’s lack of interest in women and especially queer women more broadly.
Beyond this, there’s a lot more to say, but much of it deals specifically with porn and the way trans people are written in E-rated fics. And that gets really complicated! Society is pretty determined to categorize trans people -- our actions, interactions, transition choices, romantic choices, sexuality, EVERYTHING -- based on our parts and how we use them. People constantly try to validate or invalidate our gender based on that. But also... being conscious of it and just having the freedom to PLAY with gender and how all those things interact is... one of the best things abt being trans? And I see a lot of the categorization in fanfiction, but it’s much harder to find pieces that lean into the fun.
In terms of the context I originally made this comment in... (aka that this space may be a threshold refuses a lot of fandom trans boxes), I did a few things in that fic pretty purposefully because 1) I thought they made sense w/ adapting Boba and Din's characters into a modern setting for a trans romance but also 2) because I wanted to convey some of that fun and vibrance and variability by taking a "non-standard" (for fanfic) approach to the trans interpretations.
EDIT: Oh my God, and I didn’t even get into the question about “which characters get trans headcanons,” because... that’s a thing too! The characters fandom ADORES trans headcanons for, the like “viral trans headcanon posts,” tend to fall into pretty specific archetypes. Which is cool, because people see themselves in those archetypes! But it’s always, like, the skinny twink energy? What about everybody else? C’mon!
18 notes · View notes
01 | upside down, steve harrington ; stranger things
Guess who fell head first into binging Stranger Things? Again? Yep. This bitch. And I kind of came up with this at some point during. I’ve been dancing around writing a Stranger Things fic for a while, but here I go I guess?
A few big cautions up front... There will be things that change/differ from the fic and the show. I’m gonna sort of loosely follow the timeline set forth. But I will be changing a few things here and there. I mean, if enough people enjoy this that I feel like writing more to it, idk yet... We shall see.
I swear to God, I’m going to update my CSI fics and my Riverdale one asap. This just kind of caught me by the nose and demanded to be written...
She moves back to Hawkins and manages to turn his life completely upside down. In the best of ways.
But how will everything play out between them? Also, can they handle all the weirdness ahead? We shall see.
loose canon compliance at best, total deviation at worst - this is just an up front catch all because sometimes, things happen that I don’t particularly care for (the senseless death of Barb, anybody?) and if you’re one of those canon only people, this is here to warn you that this is not the fic for you. language, occasional gore, monsters / fantasy elements, teenage drama and shenanigans - Obviously, teenagers are going to do stuff. They’re at that point in their life where not every decision they make is the best one. So if you’d rather skip over this kind of thing (teen drinking, fighting, etc) then yeah.. you’ve been warned. Slow burn / angst / mutual pining / eventual filthy good ness - because lets be real.. we’re all wondering when we’re gonna drop the plot and get to the good stuff. When this chapter occurs, I will flair it with an M. In the meantime, if you’re not into slow burn or mutual pining, then you’re probably not going to care about this.
[ soundtrack ]
[ faq - tag list doc ]
There’s nobody on my list yet but... If you wanna be tagged for this, tell me pls. It will make me overjoyed.
Throwing out a no pressure tag to @rampagewriting and @twistnet as well as @chasingeverybreakingwave just because. No pressure though bbies!
“Table six wants a burger and fries. Smothered for those fries, Jennie.” my nana’s voice shattered through my wandering thoughts. I closed the issue of Glamour I’d been reading and made my way out from behind the counter out in front, heading towards the dining area in the back.
“Marlena quit again, Nana?” I inquired, shaking my head. Marlena quits at least once a year. Turns up a few weeks later, tanned and broke, begging for her old job back and it’s been that way since my mom and I lived here still, when I was around 6.
“Girl, what have I told you about callin me Nana?” my grandmother asked, laughing softly as she nodded. “Yeah. Said she’s headin out to California this time. Thinks she’s gonna be the next Brooke Shields.”
“Broke Shields is more like it.” I mumbled, taking an apron from the hanger on the wall. My grandmother spoke up again, giving me a nudge and smirking at me while nodding across the diner. “He’s baaack.”
“Nana!” I muttered, raising a hand to my mouth, giggling a little despite my best efforts not to.
“I’m just sayin is all. That boy is not comin in here for my good cookin, Jennie Bird.” my grandma shook her head and I eyed the booth where a lone Steve Harrington sat.
It’s only the thousandth time since I moved back to Hawkins in May.
And my nana is right. He’s probably not coming here for the food.
I’d just grabbed two of the orders and sent Steve’s order back to our short order cook Brett, -or the order I’m assuming was his, he always gets the same thing down to a T when he stops in, when a hand reaches out, grabbing my wrist.
I nearly jumped right outta my skin until I realized that it was Nancy grabbing my wrist and Barb laughing about it. They were sitting at our usual little booth near the window, nursing milkshakes as they waited on my upcoming 30 minute break. Just like we’ve been doing two or three times a week since May.
Come to think of it, it’s around that time that Steve started coming in too. I shoved the thought out of my head right around the time that Nancy and Barb noticed him. And naturally, the question arose...
“What’s Steve Harrington doing in here?” Nancy asked, glancing up at me. I eyed his table and shrugged, suck popping a cotton candy flavored bubble as I told her, “Cher, your guess is as good as mine. He’s been comin in here since I moved back.”
Nancy wiggled her brows and laughed. Barb spoke up. “My mom wanted to know if you wanted to go to the lake with us this weekend? She knows your grandmother is going out of town.”
I smiled and nodded yes, zero hesitation. After Nancy confirmed that she was going too, we made plans to go into the department store in town tomorrow afternoon to pick up some swimsuits.
Nancy’s eyes settled on my boots and she let out a low and appreciative whistle. “Are those the same boots that were in the mall last time we went? I wanted those.”
I smiled, lifting my foot so Nancy could see my boots better. Then I whirled around so she could see the fact that I’d made my favorite pair of Levis into cutoffs and sewn white cherry print fabric over the back of one of the pockets.
“I love those. I wish my mom would let me cut off my jeans.” Nancy pouted. I shrugged. “Ginger said it was cheaper than buying shorts, so I went for it. I did two other pairs too.”
“I’m bringing my old jeans over tonight.” Barb spoke up. I smiled, nodding. “Yeah. I’ll do you right up, hon.”
“I wish I tanned like you. Do you just live outside, Jennie?” Barb asked, pouting a little. I shrugged it off, laughing. Taking a deep breath as I nodded towards Steve’s booth as I gazed at my friends after finally managing to tear my eyes off of Steve. “I best get over to table six. Then I have to go pick up the bohunk’s order, I reckon.”
“What’s a bohunk?” Nancy giggled.
“Same as a himbo, I reckon.” I answered, wrinkling my brows because I didn’t actually know myself. I just knew my nana Ginger often called her long-time live-in boyfriend, Hank, the same thing and I could tell by her tone that it was a loving thing.
I made my way over to Ethel and Earl’s table, setting them up with their food. “Y’all need anything else? Just let me know. Marlena quit on us again, so I’m the server tonight.”
“We’re all set, dear!” they assured me and I made my way over to the second of the tables whose orders I’d picked up.
The next table was Jim Hopper. My mom’s ex boyfriend. He chuckled and shook his head as I approached. “I see Ginger put you right to work.”
“I put me to work, sir. I’m saving money for a Trans Am I found for sale in Rollins.” I smirked as I said it, twisting a strand of hair around my fingertip.
“Oh really now.. Let me know when you get it. So I can warn the rest of the guys and the rest of town to keep a wide berth when you’re behind the wheel.”Hopper teased, chuckling. I pretended to pout, but got him set up with the food he’d ordered before finally making my way towards the back again.
I had to walk right past Steve’s booth in the process, naturally.
I did my best to keep my eyes trained towards the front of the dining area, but Steve cleared his throat just as I walked past.
“Is tonight the night you finally say yes?” Steve flashed a grin as he asked me the question. I wanted to melt, lucky for me, common sense prevailed once again.
“Steve..” I complained, shaking my head. Pretending to pout at him.
“Aw, c’mon.” Steve chided, giving me that charmer smirk as he gazed up at me. I bit my lip, eyes locked on his, lost in the depths of his eyes for a few seconds. My nana’s calling my name had me coming back to the moment and I sighed. “I gotta go get your food, cher.”
I hurried up to the front, ignoring my nana’s pointed stare and nod as she mouthed, “Well? What’d he say, huh?”
I gave a mysterious shrug and picked up the tray containing his food. Started my journey back towards his booth. On my way over, Nancy gave me a thumbs up and Barb mouthed at me in teasing, “ Aww, you’re totally blushing right now.” to which I stuck out my tongue and shook my head no.
I was all business as I sat his food in front of him. Consulting my notepad that had his order scrawled on it in my Nana’s loopy scrawl. “That’s a loaded burger and smothered fries with a chocolate shake.” suck popping another gum bubble as I spoke.
“Yeah.” Steve answered, locking eyes with me. My hand raised, trailing over the loopy cursive of my silver necklace. I toyed with the cursive that formed my name and he chuckled, dragging his fingers through his hair, nodding to it. “You still have it, I see. The necklace, I mean...”
“Why wouldn’t I? My best friend gave it to me, cher.” I gave him a soft smile. I couldn’t resist it because believe me, I tried. I’ve been trying to resist the guy since May, actually.
“Oh. So you did think about me when you left Hawkins...Interesting. I mean… you’re still wearing the necklace I got you for your birthday...” Steve mused quietly. His eyes were absolutely fixed on me. Studying me. And I felt this warmth spreading through my entire being. Like that first sliver of sunlight on a cloudy and cool day.
Then the calm. Be still my beating heart, the calm that took over when I dared to lock eyes with him as my own personal act of defiance. Popping another cotton candy flavored bubble as I did so. I bit my lip as I thought of the best way, read, least revealing way, to answer his question. This was venturing into very,very dangerous territory at present. Because if I said no I’d be lying and if I said yes, it would give him too much power. He’d know that maybe he was my first real crush back then. He’d know that maybe seeing him again after all this time had been like a burst of fresh air and somehow, felt as if maybe he’d taken all the air from me at the same time.
It was a huge risk. Huge.
“Maybe.” - it was the only word that would come presently. Blondie crooning Call Me from the old jukebox sitting at the back of the dining area shattered through the heavy lingering silence that followed immediately behind my answer. In a rush, I told him quietly, “I have other tables.”
“You’ve been on your feet all afternoon, little red. C’mon. Sit?” Steve nodded to the empty bench across from him.
I scoffed at him over my shoulder. Giving him a sweet but firm shake of the head no and smile. “As much as I’d love to sit, romeo. Sitting’s not what’s gonna put that sweet fire engine red Trans Am in my nana’s driveway by August.”
He pouted and called out as I walked away, “ I’m not giving up.”
This earned him giggles from the booth I usually filled with Nancy and Barb when I took my 30 minute break.
As I walked by them, Nancy teased out loud, “ Awww, look Barb! She’s blushing.”
“I am not.” I pretended to be offended by the suggestion. Mouthing to both of them as I fanned myself with some napkins in teasing and nodded in Steve’s direction, “Whew...He has gotten… Intense.”
“That’s Hawkin High’s big man on campus.” Barb informed me. I went to clock out for my break and came back with a Diet Pepsi, flopping across the booth across from then. Someone put 867-5309 on to play on the jukebox and I grumbled through closed lids, “I hate that fuckin song.”
Naturally, Barb and Nancy started to sing along. Loudly.
I pouted at them both as I rose to a sitting position.
Steve wandered over, flopping himself down in the empty spot next to me. “Ladies.”
“You’re not at Hagan’s party?” Barb asked, a brow raised.
“Yeah, why aren’t you at Tommy’s party?” Nancy asked, shooting me a covert teasing smile.
Steve shrugged. Took a long sip of his chocolate milkshake, slurping it through the straw noisily. I eyed it.
“I’d kill for a strawberry one right now.” I mused, gazing at the cup in his hand. He muttered quietly, “It’s not strawberry, but…” as he held it out.I eyed the styrofoam cup and him. Biting my lip.
Nancy and Barb were gazing at me intently. Teasing gleam in their eyes.
I sighed and reached out for it, taking a few sips. Holding it back out to him.
“I was there. Got bored. I like the scenery better here anyway.” Steve answered finally, shrugging.
“So you enjoy spending your Friday night in a diner packed with old people..” I muttered, locking eyes with him. Swallowing hard when I found him staring at me already.
He chuckled, shaking his head no. “I said I liked the scenery here, little red. Not the dining company. If you’d say yes and let me buy you a burger sometime…” he smiled at me as he went quiet.
I felt Nancy and Barb both fix their eyes on me.
“We’ll see.” I answered, shrugging mysteriously and smiling at him as I did so. I wanted to say yes so bad it was killing me, but given that I know the history of my grandmother and my mother, I was… Definitely erring on the side of caution.
Besides.. It makes things interesting when you play hard to get. I guess I figure that if Steve gets bored and moves on, then it’s better than agreeing, falling head over feet, making any number of bad life choices that seem to plague the women in my family and ultimately, winding up heart broken.
Call me a hopeless romantic. Overly cautious. I just want to wait until I know something is a sure thing before I dive in over my head. I want something that’s going to last a while. Not be this intense and scary whirlwind that starts off strong and ends just as fast as it began.
“Hey, were we all going to go for a swim later? Figured it was hot enough. Besides, Ginger and Hank are going to Rollins later. They won’t be back until 2. Or two days from now.” I mused, glancing from Nancy to Barb.
“Sleepover in the treehouse?” Barb suggested. Nancy nodded, giving me begging eyes. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. It’ll be like when we were little.”
“That’s actually not a bad idea!” I smiled, laughing.
After we all made our plans for the night, they left to go back into town and this left me with ten minutes in my break. Alone in a booth with Steve Harrington.
Hot Blooded came on the jukebox in back of the dining area and I grinned. Humming along with the song as I eyed the last of Steve’s fries. He chuckled, shoving them in front of me.
“You won’t let me buy you your own food… Yet you’ll eat mine.”
“Mhm.” I answered, dragging a french fry through gravy. Taking a bite thoughtfully. Groaning at the taste of the food because I realized just how hungry I actually was.
Steve chuckled, gazing at me. “Do I need to leave you two alone?”
I felt his arm go around the back of the booth. Brushing right against my shoulder. Normally, I’d politely move a little. But if I’m being totally honest here, I’m tired. So tired of fighting the way I feel. I managed to stop myself from resisting the urge to lean against his side though.
“That’s not so bad, is it?”
I sighed and gazed over at him. Smiling. “It’s not.”
From the kitchen, my nana called my name. Steve stood and I slipped out of the booth, making my way back. Clocking back in so I could finish waiting tables. By the time I’d done four more tables and was counting my tips for the night, Steve wasn’t sitting in the dining area anymore.
“You be careful getting home tonight, Jennie Bird.”
I didn’t have to look at her to know she was giving me a playful dirty look at what I’d called her. She sighed, the sound giving way to soft laughter. “Maybe get that handsome little beau of yours to give you a lift.”
“Nope. Absolutely not.”
“You are the most stubborn..” my grandmother teased gently, laughing as she shook her head.
I clocked out for the night, stepping out into the parking lot after counting down the drawer in the gas station area out front. Steve was standing outside, leaned against the cinderblock wall, his thumb hooked through his belt loop. Smoking a cigarette.
I glanced around to make sure my grandmother and her boyfriend weren’t looking or anything and I stopped beside him. Speaking up quietly. “Do you think you have another one of those?”
He chuckled, digging around in his pocket, producing a slightly crushed pack of Marlboro Reds. I took one and as I pressed it between my lips, he dug out a silver lighter and cupped his hands around the end, lighting my cigarette for me.
“You’re not afraid your grandmother’s gonna see?” Steve teased, grinning at me.
I laughed, shrugging as I exhaled, a plume of smoke creeping upwards into the sunset. “It’s more tame than her special brownies. I know for a fact it’s a thousand times tamer than anything my mom did at my age. I just don’t openly do it all the time around her because it’s a respect thing.”
“Ah. I get it, I think.” he nodded.
We stood there quietly. Staring up at the sky as the sun dipped lower. I really didn’t want to walk away, but one of us had to. I smiled, nodding towards the road. “I should probably get going.”
“I can drive you.” Steve offered.
“I’m fine. It’s only like a mile up the road.” I answered, swallowing hard. Dangerously close to caving, yet again. It’s getting so hard not to cave lately where he’s concerned and that kind of makes me panic just a little, truth be told.
“Yeah, but it’s getting late. And your feet have to be killing you by now.” he nodded to my boots. I shrugged, flashing him a smirk. “You’re a charmer, Steve.” I muttered as I rose up on my toes, fluffing his hair before stepping away, then turning to walk across the gravel parking lot and towards the road.
His BMW slowed to a stop beside me and he rolled down the window just as I started to walk towards my grandmother’s house. “C’mon.”
I eyed the car.
Then glanced at the road stretched out ahead. My feet were throbbing in these stupid boots because they weren’t broken in completely. I dragged my fingers through my hair, mulling it over.
“Take me straight home?”
“Anything you want, Jennie.” Steve promised, smiling at me. “Scouts honor.”
“You are a lot of things… Somehow I doubt boy scout was one of them, you charmer. Okay, fine.” I gave in, going around to the passenger side of the car and getting in.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he teased gently. I stuck out my tongue at him and reached for the dial on his radio until I found something other than his preferred usual pop station. He chuckled to himself, reaching out to lower the volume. “I missed you.”
“Aw, be still my beating heart.” I pretended to swoon. But something about the look in his eyes had me feeling like all the air escaped my lungs. Giddy. Lightheaded. And yet, underneath it all, that sense of calm.
The rest of the drive to my grandmother’s house was quiet. The air between us filled with this heavy and almost electric tension. Like I was waiting on something to happen, I just didn’t know what.
He pulled to a stop behind Hank’s beat down old Chevrolet truck and I went to open the door on the passenger side. I was about to get out, when he stopped me. “Same time Thursday?”
I smiled, nodding at him as I shut the door to his BMW and started towards my front door on very shaky legs. Once I was inside, I pulled off my boots and flopped down on the sofa, letting out several long and shaky breaths.
“Heaven help me. That guy is… Something.” I drawled. Resting until I heard Barb and Nancy knocking at my grandmother’s door. I got up to let them in and we went upstairs to find towels to take down to the river with us.
Then we set off, walking through the woods. Laughter and conversation echoing in the night around us. Diving into the cold water with ear splitting shrieks. Splashing at each other noisily.
We flopped onto our towels on the bank, gazing up at the stars as they started to come out.
“I can’t believe summer’s almost over.” Barb lamented, shaking her head. “It seriously feels like school just ended.”
“I don’t want to go back to school yet. Yuck.” Nancy agreed, shaking her head. “I mean there’s another month and a half but it’s flying by too fast.”
“At least we got a few classes with each other. I’m dreading starting at a new school. I mean it’s not new, but still..” I sat up, facing the two of them.
“It won’t be that bad. You’ve got us.” Barb pointed out and I smiled, nodding. “Yeah, you’re right. It won’t be that bad.” I echoed her statement.
“Why won’t you just give in to Steve. It’s not exactly a secret you like him.” Nancy eyed me expectantly.
I mulled it over, shrugging. “Guess it’s just the fear I have that I’ll give in and then everything will go wrong and I’ll wind up losing my friend too.”
The truth was… so much more complex than that. And I couldn’t even begin to explain it to myself, let alone my two best friends.
“I will say this much though.” I started, going quiet for a second or two and taking a deep breath, speaking up again after, “It’s getting harder to fight it off. I mean when I moved back here and we ran into each other again, that old crush came back and it came back ten-fold. Enough about my weird hangups.. Is there some reason you’re not finally going for it with Jonathan?” I eyed Nancy expectantly.
“Every time I try it’s like my brain freezes? I don’t know, okay?” she laughed, shaking her head about it. Barb smirked. “Both of you are cowards.”
“Excuse… Says the girl who almost threw up because Logan, the guy she likes, winked at her on the bus back from an away game?” Nancy teased and Barb scowled at her, sticking out her tongue. “I’ll have you know, ha freaking ha, Logan is actually taking me to a movie on Friday.”
“Oh?” Nancy eyed her, wiggling her brows.
“Oh my god, details.” I spoke up, tapping my foot as I gave her an expectant look. Barb launched into the whole thing and I smiled softly, content to listen. Catching up on what I’d missed in being gone so long.
“Y’all. We need to get back down to my nana’s. It’s getting dark thirty.” I stood, reaching down to grab hold of Barb’s hand, pulling her off the bank of the river. Barb pulled Nancy up and the three of us went running through the wood and back towards my grandmother’s house.
Once we got there, we ordered pizza and went out to the old treehouse we used to play in out back to set up for the night.
And at one point, we wound up playing Truth or Dare.
And naturally, the first dare I was given was to say yes if Steve Harrington asked me out again…
27 notes · View notes
Richard Ranasinghe de Vulpian’s Backstory is Very Queer: An Essay
(Author’s Note: This post is over 2,300 words long according to Microsoft Word and has images in it. There is no “read more” link. If you do not want to read this many words of me rambling about Richard’s queer backstory, please just hit “J” now. You will be scrolling for a while.
Author’s Note The Second: This was written up for @riku7se‘s birthday today. Happy birthday!)
Talking about Seigi’s queer-coming-of-age is easy and I do it often, because, well, it’s what The Case Files of Richard the Jeweler books focus on the most, since he’s the protagonist, thus the books are his story, and it is the story of The Case Files of Richard the Jeweler. It’s easy to go “Good lord, you are not a straight man,” at Seigi, because what is Seigi even doing? But Richard’s backstory may in fact be one of the queerest things I’ve ever read.
The anime covers almost none of Richard’s young childhood, or his backstory in general, or his personality in…general, but we get more of it in the novels. Richard as a kid was much like he as an adult: shy, quiet, introverted, awkward, intelligent as anything, fascinated by pretty rocks and jewelry, in love with languages, and largely friendless. Even Claremont family servants didn’t like him, because they thought he was strange and unchildlike (and it turns out later, they don’t like him because he’s queer, too, and isn’t going to be reproducing children on a convenient schedule to carry on the family name).
Of the friends he did have, it’s not especially surprising that he doesn’t seem to really have considered them true friends. He expressed affection in odd ways that they didn’t interpret as he meant them. He gave gifts that seemed excessive and performed acts of service that no one else would’ve considered, and this behavior had everyone assuming he was queer well before he seems to have realized that himself.
He was shy, awkward, and loved wrong.
And on top of that, they seemed to be using him as a replacement. Richard was, in many ways, and entirely against his will, treated as a mini-Catherine. He hated growing up looking a mirror and seeing “his mother’s face” looking back at him. It might even be part of the reason his family was somewhat cold to him—Catherine didn’t leave much a positive impression on the Claremont family, for certain. He didn’t (and doesn’t) hate his mother, but he didn’t want to be her, and he is already so much like her that they have difficulties getting along.
Richard is androgynous enough to be mistaken for a woman on occasion. He even dressed as one in London to disguise himself when rescuing Seigi from a museum, and he really put no effort into it other than putting women’s clothing on. Seigi mentions himself that Richard’s beauty is not really masculine or feminine and Richard could easily be mistaken for either except that he wears three-piece suits, keeps his hair fairly short, and is a cis man. His manga design, I think, illustrates his androgyny best:
When you get a shot of his just his face, it is legitimately kind of confusing what gender he is supposed to be.
At boarding school, Richard had male classmates fighting over him as trophy—something he didn’t ask for, didn’t want, and something that was blamed on him. After all, he was Different. He was distractingly gorgeous, even to boys, his expressions of affection too strong, too violative of accepted boundaries, and he loved pretty, girly things like jewelry. He was soft and gentle and kind. He didn’t fit the definition they wanted to impose on a young boy growing into a man, and he didn’t fit into womanhood, either. He’s too pretty, too confusing, looks too much like a woman and acts too much unlike a man. Any indication of queerness on the part of these other young upstanding young men was his fault. because society views queerness as contagious (and isn’t it, in a way? Once a person meets a queer person, they’re much more likely to discover the parts of themselves that are queer). He was obviously strange, and obviously feminine, which made him dangerous to The Order of Things.
When he invited some of these friends to visit him over the summer in France while he stayed at a villa with his mother, once they laid eyes on his mother, all thought of Richard disappeared from their heads. Why would they need his male beauty when a female equivalent existed right there? Much more proper. Much more appropriate for them. Much more…what they wanted.
Richard was only a substitute when they needed one. He was the closest thing to a beautiful woman. When an actual woman was there (especially one that could rival his own odd beauty), it turned out they only really liked him for that, and they dropped him. And Richard was so hurt by discovering he was just a replacement and a convenience for straight people that he stopped inviting people to see his mother. He wouldn’t even invite Deborah, his fiancée, a woman, to meet his mother, because…what if? What if he was just a replacement again?
Richard did not bring anyone back home again to meet Catherine until Seigi. This is fascinating, because Seigi did a lot of substitution when they first met. Every time he would think of his intense, queer feelings for Richard, he immediately, before he even realized what was happening, redirected them at a woman. With Tanimoto, or later even just a theoretical woman.
There’s a great manga cap of Seigi telling his college buddies about his gorgeous foreign boss and they all assume he’s talking about a woman. This is what Seigi’s head was doing in the background all throughout the first act of The Case Files of Richard the Jeweler.
This is also what Richard’s friend did to him.
I could write a whole other essay about Seigi and Richard and Catherine and compulsory heterosexuality, and I honestly really want to, but that’s a long derailment and this about is about Richard. And speaking of Richard and Deborah, wow, Richard. Wow. On the surface, that seems so normal. Lonely man finally finds someone who cares about him, he falls in love, and his family ruins it.
Except I’m not sure that’s actually what happened.
Deborah was someone he loved, someone he wanted to build a life with, maybe, but most importantly, she was a friend he thought understood him, one he might be able to keep after everyone he kept losing.
I don’t know if I can’t explain to alloromantic people what reading about Richard choosing a life partner based not on romantic affection but on a desperate desire to be able to keep a friend and not be alone was like for me as an aromantic person. Amatonormativity spends so much time insisting that you get one life partner, they must be a romantic life partner, and all other relationships are expendable in favor of your romantic spouse.
This insistence hurts everyone, but it especially hurts people who never really wanted to or managed to form a romantic bond with other people that was acceptable and valid enough. And it doubly hurts people like Richard, who already has such strong abandonment issues after his friends and parents mostly dropped him and pushed him off on other people.
And damn if it wasn’t one of my first times reading a fictional character struggling with that.
But Deborah was willing to marry him, even without romance. He finally had someone, and he clung to her. The timeline of The Case Files of Richard the Jeweler is frequently messy and often inconsistent, but it is very likely he proposed to her after he realized that marriage to her might not even be possible due to the legal restrictions of The Will (of course, interracial marriages have their own long history with this that I am far from qualified to speak on, so I won’t).
His family, particularly Jeffrey, was supportive despite that…at first. Richard’s uncle was willing to let Richard marry who he wanted (after all, Richard was the spare, wasn’t he? Godfrey had two real sons). Right up until it became obvious after spending years with lawyers that there was simply no reconciling Richard’s love with the family’s needs, and Richard was expected to set aside his desires in order to conform to the family’s expectations and support the family in the ways they demanded it. Deborah was not an Acceptable partner, and society was going to look at the whole family, Richard. Time to bury yourself and do your duty and marry someone you don’t and maybe even can’t love.
The amount of historical pain queer people have, being forced to do this, is immeasurable.
Richard’s love, as queer as it was, was taken from him. Deborah told him she didn’t even know why he thought it would work out in the first place, which is brutally harsh. It became obvious the biological family he had wouldn’t support it, and he simply couldn’t do it anymore. He had spent years trying and failing to win their approval, but they had finally taken too much from him.
He ran to an entirely different country and refused to respond to the legal name on all his legal paperwork. Richard might not be trans, as much as some of his androgyny sometimes speaks to that experience (see again: hatred of growing up with his mother’s face), and the series provides little if any allowance to interpret him that way, but Good Lord, running away from your family to start fresh with a new identity? There’s a reason that around a quarter of homeless youth in the UK are some variety of queer.
Richard was wealthy enough to run off to another country for his mental health crisis, and he picked not only one where his family, his own namesake, had been safe to love freely before, but a country that was, once, a place with much looser laws around homosexuality than the UK that made it a so safe place for queer British colonialists to settle in safety.
Saul and Seigi both question Richard’s motivations for his actions as a con artist (why is he selling valuable stones for cheap to people he likes, and punishing people he doesn’t?). Here is the thing about that: this was not only something that he inherited from his grandmother whose love was also looked down on by society, but it’s something he didn’t respect, something he loathed. His behavior was meant to punish himself.
It’s important that he was using gemstones for this: something he loved, something that wasn’t accepted as something a man should love, but that he found innately beautiful and compelling anyway. He hurt himself with them and punished himself with them because he hadn’t ever been allowed to love those parts of himself. He didn’t see himself as worthy, or see a way to love these things healthily in a way that both he, and they, deserved. Saul told him in Sri Lanka that he could see the love of gemstones light up his eyes, even though Richard was certainly trying to hide it at that point and wasn’t willing to accept that about himself.
Saul also tells Richard at this time that he has no self-awareness, and no introspection. Sound like someone else we know? Sound anything like queer people who don’t know their way or what they want yet? Richard was still spinning wildly out of control back then, and I’ll argue he still hadn’t quite realized anything about his own queerness.
And the thing that healed him, the thing that scarred over these wounds and allowed him to live, was a found family made of people who loved them the way he loved. People who encouraged him to be himself, even as a weird as that person was. Who encouraged, very specifically, a fairly transgressive love of jewelry and beauty and told him not only was it okay that he loved that, but that he could make that love his life.
Monica, Saul’s adopted daughter, was adopted from one of Saul’s own little found family members: one of his very best friends gave Saul custody of her welfare after his death instead of a biological family member. Monica escaped an abusive marriage to come with Saul and find her own healing. Saul’s sister-in-law came to study gemstones and jewelry with him while they were both mourning the loss of Saul’s wife and Maya’s sister. Richard found Saul there, who Seigi even says is much alike Richard in the way they are stubbornly kind, gentle-hearted men. All of them found familial love with each other when romantic love wasn’t working out for any of them, when their biological families couldn’t support them anymore.
Specifically, when Richard’s biological family decided he was too much and too wrong for them, he made his own little patchwork family to replace them. Found Family is one of the queerest tropes there is, because too often queer people are rejected from the homes they are born in and it is their way of making a new place for themselves with new people. Like I said earlier: queer realizations might be just a little contagious. People who defy society’s expectations are a much more likely place to find your own deviancies than society is.
Some four years after living with this little found family made of people who love the same things he does, the same way he does, all in ways that society doesn’t necessarily respect, Richard has the introspection and self-awareness Saul knew he lacked. By the time we meet him in Japan alongside Seigi, it’s pretty obvious he figured out who he is and how he loves, and that this way is very, very queer. And he seems pretty damn okay with it!
It was with these people that Richard found himself and found some kind of inner peace. He healed. And he didn’t necessarily heal the best he could’ve—I’ve more than once referred to this series as akin to watching a poorly-healed fractured leg being rebroken and set with pins so it heals straight and true, and that is as true of Richard as it is of Seigi and any of their customers.
But it was something he needed then to live.
They allowed and encouraged him to love people in ways society didn’t approve of, love things society didn’t approve of, let him be a strange, wild disaster for a few years, and he came out of it finally knowing who and what he was.
97 notes · View notes
With The Malfoys
Pairing: Draco Malfoy X Fem!Slytherin!Reader
Description: You had been staying with your boyfriend’s family, the Malfoys, before the summer break is over. You also go with them on a trip to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies for the new year. Draco comforts your insecurity.
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: Originally posted on Qutoev / TRANS LIVES MATTER / I really like this one, wrote it when I was on a Draco high a few years ago haha. Also more Draco cause he’s popular right now. (I’m not into Draco anymore but these exist)
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
You began to stir in your sleep when someone started knocking on the guest bedroom door. The sun shining in your eyes from the large windows didn’t help at all. You heard the door open and small footsteps follow behind.
“Lady (Y/N)? You’ve requested for me to wake you up at this hour.”
The light voice of the small house elf fully woke you up. You sat up and rubbed the tiredness from your eyes. “Yes, thank you Sammi.”
“Also, Mrs. Malfoy has invited you for morning tea. And an owl came this morning for you.” The little house elf said as she began to flatten out the sheets on your large guest bed. She had handed you a letter closed with a familiar seal. You didn’t hesitate to rip it open read it.
Hope you’re doing well darling,
It does feel weird having you be gone from the house two weeks early, but I assume everything is fine over there. I received a letter from Lucius and he says he enjoys having you at the Manor, and that he has noticed how happy you make his son. He says he wants you back for your Christmas break, he invited me and your father as well. Let me know and we’ll hopefully see you for Christmas over there. I hope you are remembering your manners over there! Treat everyone well and don’t forget to go to Diagon Alley to get your stuff for school. And write me back if you can!
See you soon, I love you
You were staying at Malfoy Manor for the last two weeks of summer break. Despite them being controversial both at school and in wizarding world in general, you loved Draco’s family. They adored you and they insisted that you stay with them before the next school year started.
The letter from your mother made you happy, but also semi embarrassed you. You have often received positive things from both your and Draco’s parents that you were dating. It took a while for his father to warm up to you, but his mother loved you instantly. And your parents adored Draco. All four of them never let you forget how perfect they thought you were.
You got up and Sammi the house elf made your bed behind you. Over the past few days, she sort of became your personal house elf since she was assigned to you so much. You showed her nothing but kindness and compassion. It was nice to have someone like her with you all throughout your stay.
You got ready in the bathroom and dressed into a clean outfit. A simple black dress and some black heel boots. You found yourself dressing a bit more formal when with the Malfoys, you grew to like it (and you felt good wearing nice dresses).
You came back into your room to find Sammi tidying it up a bit. She worked really hard by what you have seen her do.
“I appreciate your company, Sammi.”
She turned to you and her huge eyes lit up. “No one has ever been as kind to me as you, Lady (Y/N)!” Her speech was not like other house elves, not referring to herself in third person.
“It’s nothing don’t worry.” You waved it off. “Also I told you that you don’t have to call me ‘lady’.”
“Are you sure? I’m too used to being so formal to our guests."
You nodded and she smiled. You walked over to your bedside table and picked up your wand to place in the belt of your dress.
“But I quite like the sound of ‘lady (Y/N)’!” Sammi beamed, dusting a nearby shelf.
“There’s no need, really.” You replied, picking up the glass of water next to where your wand was and taking a sip.
“But really…” She paused. “Maybe someday I’ll be calling you Mrs. Malfoy.”
You choked and water went down the wrong way.
“I honestly do hope you and Master Draco get married. Maybe it will happen once you both graduate from Hogwarts. Oh, a house elf can only dream.” And with that she left your room, leaving you a coughing and blushing mess.
Descending the main staircase, you made your way towards the drawing room where Narcissa Malfoy often invited you to have tea in the morning. You knew where you were going now, the manor had become familiar dispute its size. The first few days you always found yourself lost in the giant mansion, there were too many rooms to explore and curiosity took over plenty of times.
“Good morning, darling.” Narcissa greeted you while using her wand to pour you tea.
“Morning, Narcissa.” She had insisted that you call her by her first name.
“Did you get your letter? Who was it from?”
You sat down in the chair across from hers, it was soft and large. Taking your tea, you curled up on the chair. “The letter was from my mother.”
She smiled into her tea cup. “Oh (your mother’s name), I do miss her. Maybe she and your father should join us for Christmas…oh has Lucius or Draco mentioned that to you yet?”
“They hadn’t told me, but mum mentioned it in her letter. She’d love to come I’m sure.”
“I hope they do.” Narcissa smiled. “I’m sure if you asked them you all could join us.”
“I can ask them. I should write them back.”
Narcissa was already on it, using her magic to hand you a piece of parchment and a quill with ink already. You thanked her and began a letter back to your mother, writing on top of a book on your lap. Neutral peaceful silence fell in the room, Narcissa now petting a cat while you wrote to your mother and drank your tea. While writing, the large doors to the room opened and you wondered who had entered.
It was Draco. You felt his presence over your shoulder so you scooted over in your chair for him to sit. He did so, plopping down and slinging his arm around you.
"Morning mother." He smiled innocently, she was eyeing him for not acknowledging her earlier along with you. He then glanced down at you , "Whats this?"
"Mum wrote me this morning, replying back." You answered, then raising your quill to tickle his face for a split second just to bug him.
“Oh Draco, what do you think about the (L/N)s joining us for Christmas this year?” His mother asked him, chiming in about the letter.
"That would be great." He answered but he sounded unsure, then he continued which explained it, "but...do we want them near the other people we usually invite to our Christmas parties?"
"What do you mean?" She raised an eyebrow.
He turned to you. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to meet my aunt Bella, (Y/N).”
“Do not speak of your aunt like that Draco.” Narcissa scoffed. “But...it is true that my sister is a little…uh”
“Insane?” Draco suggested, raising an eyebrow.
“Peculiar.” She corrected while eyeing her son.
"I'm sure me and my parents will survive a party here." You laughed.
“Why is it that whenever I set foot in Diagon Alley, I instantly smell mudbloods?”
You slapped him on the shoulder. “Draco!”
“What? It’s kinda true.” This told you that he was trying to make a joke, but you just rolled your eyes.
You, Draco, Lucius and Narcissa were now walking down the street in Diagon Alley to get the things on your list for your next year at Hogwarts.
Once you got to a populated area, you felt eyes staring at you and the Malfoys. You instantly grew self conscious. You wrapped your arms around yourself and suddenly became aware of how heavy your footsteps sounded with the heels. Did you look like a snob to them? Too dramatic or over the top? Actually...do people think that you’re a Death Eater?
Draco noticed that you had become fidgety and nervous. He put it together and saw that you didn’t like the stares. He reached out and gently grabbed your hand to hold it.
“It’s okay, darling.” He whispered, pulling you closer to him protectively. “Keep that head held high. They’re just jealous that you’re so beautiful.”
You blushed and chuckled under your breath. Soon you found a small push of confidence, head up and smiling.
Yeah that’s right, I’m with the Malfoys! I probably look really good right now.
One of the first stops was Flourish and Blotts, where you needed to get the new textbooks for your classes. Draco’s parents had wandered to speak with another pure blood family that was on the other side of the shop, while you and Draco looked for textbooks. You scanned the shelves for a copy of Advanced Potion-making, and you felt Draco looming over your shoulder as he helped you look.
Then something caught your attention and you listened carefully. There was a group talking somewhere, and you swear you heard them mutter Malfoy and (L/N). Draco was busy mumbling to himself the book titles as he browsed the shelves, while you listened. It clicked in your head and the voices were suddenly recognizable.
You didn’t look in their direction and tried to act casual. Draco hadn’t noticed yet, so you slapped him lightly to get his attention.
“Draco.” You whispered.
He kept talking to himself, “Scamander? What an unfortunate surname to have...”
You rolled your eyes, “Draco!”
He did, then he understood what you meant. The two of you listened into the conversation while still trying to look like you were busy.
“Also why do they always dress like that? Are they going to a party?”
“Those heels (L/N) is wearing look really uncomfortable.”
“I’m surprised they’re still together. How long has it been?”
“A few years now.”
“Longer than most people at Hogwarts.”
“I don’t care, it’s still disgusting.”
“Is she with him just because he’s rich?”
"Maybe they've been arranged, like an arranged marriage."
"I wouldn't be surprised, not many pure blood families to keep the Malfoy family completely pure."
“They look like they’re plotting something…”
“Just by looking at books?”
“They always look like they’re up to no good.”
“Probably been bowing to You-Know-Who all summer.”
Draco had enough and he spoke up, “You’re really bad at being quiet, Potter.”
Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger all stopped talking, and turned to you and Draco with shocked faces. A smirk pulled at your lips, and you assumed your boyfriend was doing the same, the menacing smiles of a perfect Slytherin duo and couple.
You followed Draco as he approached the trio, knowing that all hell was about to break loose. But you were here for it. You stood there, arms crossed over your chest as you watched Draco and Harry have a standoff.
While the boys were nagging at each other, you watched with amusement. You quickly glanced to the side and looked at the bookshelf. “Oh look, here they are!” You took two copies of Advanced Potion-making off the shelf, which was right beside Granger. Somehow this irritated her.
“Oh by the way.” You started. “I’m not with him just because he’s rich,” You did your best intentionally annoying Hermione Granger impression. “and we weren't arranged. Pfff. Shame on you, mudblood.”
Alright maybe that was a little low for you to stoop down to, but what she said really got on your nerves so you said the first insult you thought of to call her.
The tension created by the mutual hatred on both sides caused a few other shoppers to stop and watch for at least one second. Draco was in the process of defending his last name from association with the dark arts, and it was amusing to you that he could piss off Harry just by barely opening his mouth.
“And I’d like to see you walk in these.” You showed off your heeled shoes to Granger which you noticed bugged her. “You’d probably trip and break your ankle in one step.”
Then you both went off, mirroring Draco and Harry. It could have gone on for much longer, but a large figure that appeared made the three Gryffindors tense and freeze.
“I really hope these blood traitors aren't giving you two any trouble.” Lucius’ voice rang out, him now standing behind you both with his wife.
“They were speaking negatively about us.” You stated with irritation, but with a hint of a smug smile.
Narcissa put her hands on her son’s shoulders protectively. "Forget them, dears. They are not worth your time."
"You're right mother, they're not at all." Draco held his nose in the air and began to walk off with Narcissa.
Lucius glared at the three, “Do not ever disrespect my future daughter-in-law. Come along, (Y/N).” The man lead you away from them, you still holding the textbooks you and Draco needed.
That comment made you blush, but it put a smile on your face once you saw the trio’s expressions; in some state of disbelief and jaws slightly slack. So you followed Lucius with your head held high.
It was now September first, and the Hogwarts Express was scheduled to leave any minute now, but Narcissa’s bone crushing hug was preventing you from getting on the train.
“Mum, let her go.” Draco rolled his eyes and tried to pry his mother’s arms off of you.
She eventually did, but took your shoulders to look at you, "You watch over him, alright?"
"I will." You laughed.
Draco grabbed you hand and you both jumped onto the train just as it was leaving. You looked back and waved to his parents.
“We love you! Stay out of trouble!” His mother called one last time before they were out of sight.
"Why does mum have to be so embarrassing sometimes..." Draco mumbled under his breath as he pulled you along the hall to find an empty car.
"Because it's her job to embarrass you." You giggled, and he shook his head.
Once you found an empty car and settled in, you both sat down for the long train ride. You leaned your head on Draco's shoulder, and he let out a breath of amusement. You knew he was smirking, with content.
"You can take a nap if you want, darling." Draco chuckled, seeing how comfortable you have become now cuddling up to him.
"I could~" You sighed, now wrapping your arms around his torso, "wake me up when we get there..."
Draco smiled, placing one hand around your waist and the other on top of one of yours. He kissed your temple, and made a mental note that if Crabbe and Goyle wanted to share a car with you both, he wouldn't let them wake you.
43 notes · View notes
All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 6
Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.
Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can't help falling in love with him.
He happens to love them back.
Find it on Ao3
    
"Do you really hate Keats that much?" Martin asks Jon, sounding faintly betrayed. They're sitting on a pile of cushions in front of Gerry's big window, while the man himself stands painting nearby.
There has been no previous mention of Keats since they arrived several hours ago, nor in the entire course of Gerry knowing them together.
Granted, he had barely been awake when they had arrived, having rolled out of bed just seconds before the knock came, but Gerry thought he had been keeping fairly decent track of the overall conversation.
He had thought Sunday brunch was a great idea when Jon suggested it during the week. Only remembering half-way through his shift the previous night that he was normally dead asleep during that time on a Sunday. But needs must, and after coffee and food, he was feeling downright perky at having two cute boys in his apartment.
Jon and Martin had settled into the pillow pile to occupy themselves while Gerry wandered off to paint, and they had spent several hours each engaged in their own artistic endeavors, simply enjoying the energy of one another's company.
Jon had started out reading but kept getting distracted by the way the light in the studio catches in Gerry's dark red hair, tied up in a chaotic messy bun, and had idly been strumming Gerry's old acoustic guitar for a while instead. Martin had been writing in a notebook, tongue often caught between his teeth in contemplation, glasses pushed up onto the top of his hair.
Jon stops playing abruptly and Gerry winces at the discordant note the guitar lets out in protest.
"I think Keats is pretty cool," offers Gerry cheerfully.
"Thank you, Gerard, very helpful," grouses Jon in return, glaring at him. Gerry blows him a kiss and returns to his canvas.
"I don't hate Keats, Martin." Jon's voice is slow and soft in the way that indicates that he's actually trying to be sensitive, "I just think he's overrated. After spending so much time in uni pouring over his boring symbolism, I'm just sick of him."
Jon's English literature degree, which Gerry remembers with some humour does not qualify him for a job at a library, had been a pain to get, and he doesn't always remember that part of his life with any great fondness.
"I know, but-" Martin cuts off abruptly and there's unexpected silence for a moment.
"Gerry, do you have a cat?" Jon's voice is incredulous and somewhat delighted at the new development.
"Yes," Gerry replies, very casually. He looks around to find that the cat has indeed wandered in and is sitting in a shaft of sunlight, black fur shining. "Jon, Martin, meet Saturn. Saturn, this is Jon and Martin."
Saturn blinks at them, before abruptly standing, showing them his butt, and then walking over to twine between Gerry's legs. Gerry deposits his painting supplies nearby and reaches down to scoop Saturn up, before carrying him over to sit with the others.
"He's not always great with new people, but hopefully he'll warm up to you. He can be a great cuddler when he wants to be." Saturn eyes them all speculatively before sitting on his own cushion and curling up in a fluffy ball.
"So he's like the Jon cat?" Martin asks, sneaking out a finger to scratch Saturn's fluffy little ears. He purrs lightly and Gerry grins to see them getting along.
"Well-" Jon splutters indignantly, face warming beneath his tan.
They both laugh and Gerry leans towards Martin to whisper conspiratorially, "He's not even embarrassed about being bad with new people. He's shy that we know how good of a cuddler he is."
Jon presses his lips together with a long-suffering expression, also reaching out a hand to pet the purring feline. Saturn rolls over towards him and gets a belly rub for his efforts.
"There we go," Gerry mutters happily. "All my favorite boys, getting along so well."
There's more sputtering from both Jon and Martin at that, but Gerry only laughs and leans over to kiss the tops of their heads.
Jon sighs and rubs the back of his neck, trying to release the burning tension sitting in all the joints of his spine.
It's 1 A.M. and the library is long, long closed, doors locked and lights turned out. He doesn't know how he gets here sometimes. Elias has certainly never overtly demanded he work overtime, and yet Jon always feels the need to push a little harder, do more than anyone would consider even remotely reasonable.
He accepted a while ago, that his irrational drive for perfection in this job stems from his self-doubt and fear of inadequacy.
And yet, that understanding does nothing to get him home at a reasonable hour, even when he remembers the two men who always seem to be around when he needs them.
It's unfathomable to Jon how he managed to find himself in a relationship with not one but two incredibly understanding and supportive men who love him. He considers it a downright miracle that they also seemed to be finding their way towards loving one another. Although, who wouldn't love Martin and Gerry?
He checks his watch again. Martin is definitely asleep, and even just stumbling in to lie in bed with him would disturb him. He knows the sweet man would say he doesn't mind, but he feels like if he can't get back at a reasonable hour, he doesn't deserve to sleep next to him at all.
Gerry, on the other hand, is mostly nocturnal. A quick check of his phone shows that it's actually Friday, and he is working at the bar for another hour or so.
While Jon has his phone in his hand, he opens up their text chain.
Gerry: Don't work too late. Martin and I want you functional so that we can drag you out to that street market this weekend.
Jon: I won't.
Gerry: Yes, you will. But try to keep it pre-midnight ;)
'He's awake,' Jon tells himself firmly. 'He'll be happy to see you, even if you did work even later than he predicted.'
So Jon packs up his stuff and leaves the library. He considers a cab, but it's only a few blocks and he thinks the fresh air and exercise will unlock the tension in his poor abused spine.
He arrives at the bar just before closing. Gerry is busy charming a few drunk regulars out the door with promises of undying love and that the bar will be back tomorrow afternoon. After they stumble off, he turns to find Jon walking slowly towards him. Gerry is wearing combat boots, dark jeans, and a loose leather tank top, over a lace undershirt. He has his favorite hoop in his nose, and the light glints off the many piercings in his ears.
"Why, Gerry Delano, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." Gerry grins at Jon's teasing tone and echoed words, no sign of recrimination about him.
"I always am." Jon reaches Gerry at that, and they draw together, pressing tired lips against each other gently.
Gerry's hair has faded out a bit from the moody red, and Jon slips his hands into his hair to hold him close for a moment longer. They rock together on the street for a long, frozen moment.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Gerry asks, pulling away and sliding his hands down Jon's arms to connect their fingers.
"I missed you," Jon confesses shakily, emotion spilling out of his voice.
"Good, I missed you too." Gerry drags him into the bar and fills the air with stories from his shift while he and his colleagues clean for the evening, closing up the bar.
They walk home arm in arm, Gerry flirting with him mercilessly. Jon sheds the day's tension as they go, and by the time they arrive at Gerry's loft, he's warm and relaxed.
He supposes he should probably go back to his own flat, but it's not a place he spends the night very often anymore, and he fears the creeping insomnia that will take him without Martin and Gerry around to soothe him into sleep. Besides, Gerry is right here with him, and he seems so pleased to have him around.
"Are you going to paint now?" Jon asks as they shed their work clothes. Jon is sorry to see the lace shirt go, but Gerry makes up for it by simply throwing a kimono over his bare chest. He throws him a T-shirt, so Jon wears that and his boxers as they settle on the couch. Gerry is still wearing his jeans, but both their feet are bare as they tangle on the coffee table.
"I'm not sure, do you want to?" Gerry asks as he lights a cigarette and offers Jon one.
"What? Do I want to paint?" Jon's voice is taken aback. He takes the cigarette and lights it.
Gerry shrugs as if it's obvious. "Sure, you used to draw with me when we were younger."
"But what, Jonathon? You're too old to paint now? Too proper and straight-laced to get charcoal under your nails? No more piercings, no more creativity?" Gerry sways into his shoulder, drawing smoke into his lungs and letting it out as he speaks.
"No, it's not that." Jon grouses back. Gerry hums derisively in return. "I just don't see the point of wasting your drawing paper when you can do that." Jon gestures wildly towards Gerry's most recently completed painting.
Gerry eyes it critically. It's the commission that he's been slogging over petulantly. It's large and impressively done, he can accept that, but he doesn't like it very much. He hates the subject and composition Peter Lukas has demanded and compensated by pouring all his best technique into it. It makes him sad and sullen to look at, and Gerry will be relieved when it's finally gone.
"For every painting like that I've ever done, Jon," Gerry spills all his affection into the name, and Jon can feel it, "I've done a thousand ridiculous sketches and colour studies. Art is time, and diligence and joy as much as it ever is masterpieces. You don't sit down one day and magically just know how to be a maestro."
Jon looks over and up at him with big green eyes. Gerry can't help but lean over and slide his hand into Jon's hair, pressing their lips together for a moment. "So Mr. Sims. Can I tempt you to make some art with me?"
What they create in those soft early morning hours can only generously be called art, even Gerry's efforts. But they laugh and kiss and somehow get covered in charcoal and acrylic paint. Gerry even allows Jon to choose the Spotify playlist. Slow piano music with nature sounds play softly in the background of their impromptu art party, reminding Gerry of nothing so much as Jon himself.
The dawn is just breaking through Gerry's massive bank of windows when he allows Jon to drag him off to bed, and they collapse together in the soft morning light.
Late the next morning, Martin lets himself into the flat and bounces down onto the bed between them, sending Saturn flying off in a huff.
"So, I heard there was a slumber party. I brought breakfast."
"Fuck off," Gerry slurs, but rather undermines his own point when he pulls Martin down and tucks himself around him. Jon does the same from the other side, and Martin finds himself in the middle of a very sleepy man sandwich.
Gerry seems to instantly fall back asleep, but Jon eventually drags himself to consciousness, even buried in Martin's neck. "What's time?"
"Almost ten," he responds, very cheerfully.
"WHAT-" Jon flies out of bed in a blind panic, desperately looking for his phone, which is dead when he finds it anyway. "I'm already so fucking late!"
"Relax Jon." Martin tries to soothe him but is hindered by the fact that Gerry is still clinging to him in a very enjoyable way. "Gerry, love, let me go. Jon is having a meltdown."
"How unusual," Gerry mutters very unsupportively, Jon manages to notice. He flops over onto his other side and attempts to bury himself in pillows instead of Martin.
"Jon, breathe." Swinging up to sit on the edge of the bed, Martin uses his best man-disaster steadying tone. Gerry has come to realize what that tone is, but he doesn't mention it to anyone. "It's Saturday."
Jon slumps and drops the pants he was desperately trying to wrangle himself into.
"It's Saturday?" He asks.
"It's Saturday," Gerry confirms from the pillow fort.
Jon glares at Martin in a very put upon way. Martin smiles at him brightly.
He turns and wanders off to the bathroom in an effort to collect himself. Martin resumes his spot in the middle of the bed, and drags Gerry towards him, tucking himself into his back.
"Hmmm. So much noise on a weekend." The goth mutters as he attempts to resettle himself in Martin's arms.
"I'll make it up to you later," Martin promises, pressing a kiss behind his ear.
"You let that happen on purpose, didn't you." It's not a question. "Just to see that look on his face."
"Yes," Martin says, chuckling into Gerry's pillow.
"Very good, sir."
8 notes · View notes
A Little Bit Louder
Brian/Trans M Reader, smut, and the difference the years can make in NSFW encounters
(in other words, Brian goes from v quiet in bed to v loud and it is The Best Thing!)
My love to all who read/like/reblog!
"I don't think anyone can hear us in here," you prompt Brian.
He smiles and giggles softly into your ear, but otherwise is silent as he thrusts, your leg lifted up on his shoulder.
"Seriously," you murmur. "Let me hear you a little!"
But his lips linger at your neck, and he gasps when he comes, otherwise…
"Nothing," you report back later to your friends. "I know he's quiet onstage, but I thought surely, in bed…"
You sigh. "It was good regardless though. And what a story to have, hm?"
"And how many people did you tell that story to?" Brian teases. His hand loops loosely around the pint glass on the counter you both sit at, and his eyes reflect the night so far: drinking after his show, even after the rest of the band and crew had wandered off back to the hotel.
"None except my friends," you laugh. "And they just bet I couldn't get you to fuck me again, and that even if I did manage that, I couldn't get you to be loud."
"In bed," you smile and sip from your own glass. "I don't mean that as a critique, it was…"
You let a hand drop under the bar counter to his knee, resting there for just a moment.
"Good. But I was surprised at how quiet you were; I thought you might make up for how soft and serious you seemed onstage."
His hand leaves his glass to find yours, holding it under the counter. The bar is empty, but not enough for a more open show of anything between the two of you.
"We're in town an extra day and night," Brian says, dropping money on the counter for the bill. "Stay with me."
You sigh. You never had any interest in pretending not knowing when he has people at home. "Brian. We aren't kids anymore, hell we weren't then either."
"I have permission," Brian says, deadly serious. "At least,I got permission when I knew we'd be near your town."
"We've exchanged letters maybe every three years with pauses in between," you smirk. "And you were so sure I would want to hook up again?"
"Not sure," Brian says softly. "Just hopeful. And Anita...we...I don't know that this is a topic for public conversation."
"No promises," you say. "But if you can give me some proof of this, then sure. I might be up for it."
Brian leads you outside, and you walk back to his hotel, holding hands whenever the street lights are off.
"She thought you would want something physical as proof," Brian hands over a letter. "She wanted to have a picture or video of her writing it, so-"
He hands over a sheaf of Polaroids too. In them, Anita smiles, raising her head from a paper that matches the look of the one in your hand.
"This-" you start to read it, and smile. "Oh! I didn't expect this, I thought-"
"It's unusual," Brian interrupts with an embarrassed laugh. "But this way, we get to extend our own scene a bit. I can play with people we both trust, but only if she agrees to loan me out, if you will."
You nod, handing the letter and photos back. "You did scream 'submissive' even back then."
"I did not," he laughs.
"Absolutely did so!"
"Do I still?"
Brian sets aside the letter and pictures, letting his hands fall at your waist. "The mustache has finally grown in. I like it."
"It only took what? Twentyish years?" you smile and lean into his touch. "You really do like it though? After all, I didn't have it the last time we-"
He leans down and kisses you, and you can taste the unspent energy, the beer you'd both been drinking. There's loneliness on his lips, the way he gasps into your mouth at a pause, yet the whine he lets out still surprises you.
"Has someone learned something since last we fucked?" you tease.
"I can make up for it," he murmurs against your lips, crushing his hips close to you, his cock half hard in the skinny jeans you couldn't take your eyes off of when he was onstage. "I was...shy, back then. Thought you'd get up and leave right then, or be embarrassed or-"
Your hands, resting at his hips, move to tug open the button of his jeans. "You'd have to do a lot of ridiculous shit to get me out of bed with you. Being loud will only keep me in it longer."
He steps back, and starts to strip off his clothes, watching as you do the same. "So if I'm loud enough, I can convince you to come visit me when I'm back home?"
You pause. "You'd want that?"
"Certain things Anita isn't into, or can't give me," Brian replies. "That's not the only reason we do this, but it's part of it. She said...she's read your letters. She likes you, so if you'd ever want-"
You nod, and stride forward, pushing him back onto the bed with your kiss. "It's been so fucking lonely here, I thought a different city would make a difference, but it's even smaller here. People watch me, the way they look at me-"
"Then come somewhere bigger," Brian interrupts, wrapping you in his arms. "I can't guarantee it's better by a lot, but you can disappear into London. And I can see you more often there."
"Anita will loan you out?"
"Anita will probably set up a schedule with you to get me out of the house and her hair, now and again," Brian laughs. "Though, if you'd ever be willing to join us…"
"I would be," you say. "If she'll have me."
Brian nods, and everything else melts away.
His hands linger over you just the way they did before, tracing gentle patterns over your skin. It's mesmerizing, and you snuggle up to him, grinding your cock against his.
It leaves Brian moaning, beautifully, in between each kiss. He's not overly loud, but it's a world's difference from your first hookup with him, and it makes you all the more eager.
"Enough, just get inside of me," you beg.
"I'll get there," Brian laughs. "I thought age would make you patient!"
"I can be patient for you another night," you say. "When I visit you, maybe?"
"If you insist," Brian smiles and motions for you to move off of him.
You watch as he fumbles through his suitcase for a bottle of lube and a condom, tossing them onto the bed by you.
"Did you buy these just because you were coming here and seeing me?"
He blushes. "I don't want to seem presumptuous-"
"I'm in your bed, I think it's a safe presumption," you interrupt with a giggle.
"But I also wanted to be prepared," Brian finishes, and drops to his knees at the edge of the bed. "Get over here."
"This is new," you grin as you wiggle your way down to the end of the bed. "But then again, we didn't have as much time back then, did we?"
"We didn't, but I still should have," Brian winces. "Like I said: making up for things."
You lay back and relax as he slips your legs over his shoulders, reaches up to hold your hands, and starts to lap at your folds.
"Not everyone is comfortable at first," you say. "Sucking me off, I mean, so if you need a ti-"
Your advice cuts off as he takes your cock between his lips and sucks, with just enough pressure to short out your brain.
He pauses and lifts his head. "Alright?"
"Why did you stop?" you groan. "Please don't stop."
"Hm," Brian raises a brow. "Someone might need a gag, if you're going to be round with Anita too."
"You have something that could keep my mouth busy," you smirk down at him.
"That I do," he murmurs as he kisses at your thigh. "We'll keep that in mind for next time."
"I said I was making up for our last time together," Brian says. "Let me focus on you for tonight, alright?"
He doesn't give you a chance to answer before he dips back down and sucks at your cock, humming and moaning around it, holding you down when it makes you squirm.
"I know I'm not making you think of me as any less impatient," you whine. "But Brian, please."
"What was that?" He lifts his head and smiles.
"You little shit," you shake your head. "I said please."
He licks up your folds, and you break.
"Fine, fucking hell! I want you to get up here, get this condom on, and fuck me until I can't walk or think straight. I don't want to leave this fucking room until you have to get on the road again, and god help me, but if you'll have me, I'll leave my shit here and follow you on tour and back home, and never come back to this piece of shit town again!"
He slips out from under your legs, and sits back on the bed as he rolls the condom on. "Do you mean that?"
"All of it?" you ask. "Yeah."
"Even coming with me, making that your move elsewhere?"
"My job I do from home anyway, it's all paperwork I mail out and get mailed to me," you reply. "I haven't been here long enough to get another cat, so all I have is to toss what little I have in a few bags, and go."
You move over to let him roll into the bed, tossing a leg over him as he slips his lubed up cock in between your folds, slipping inside achingly slowly.
"You'd really upset your life for me?" Brian asks as he starts to move his hips, too slow for your liking, but at a pace that's easy to match.
"It's not an upset when you've been spending months figuring out how and where to move already," you reply. "This isn't an upset, it's... perfect."
"I'll make sure you have a place, somewhere safe, and-"
You kiss him wrap your arms around him. "I know you will. Every letter you've sent, you've told me as much. That once we could be around each other again, we'd look after each other. First few years I'll admit, I thought it was maybe rockstar bullshit-"
He cackles at that, burying his face into your shoulder, curls in your face.
"But you kept writing me, and you were always interested in how I was and if you could help me or come see me, and even if we didn't have the time and ability to connect until now…"
He raises his head, and you press a kiss to his forehead, moaning at the harder thrust he offers.
"There's some saying about good things not happening until we're ready, right? Well, now we're both ready."
He nods, but buries his face back into your shoulder, whining and moaning and gloriously loud in your ear. His thrusts are more forceful now, and you cling to him, leg pressed tight against his hip.
A bang echoes against the wall, and you both pause.
"Are...is that the room next door?" you giggle.
"That's Spike, next door," Brian replies, and reaches a hand up to slap at the wall.
There's an echoing bang again, and you both break into giggles.
"You've gone too far the other way now!" you tease. "Too loud!"
"I didn't think I was that loud," Brian says as he starts to move again, hips snapping against yours. "Not yet, at least."
You let him roll you into your back, and the memory of your first night together comes flooding back. One leg propped over his shoulder, his cock hard and deep in you, his other hand rubbing at your cock.
But this time, he's loud. Whining and moaning and mumbling your name, until he comes.
He shudders as he flops forward onto you, and lets your leg drop to his side, still working his hips though any hope of rhythm is gone.
You follow him a moment later, wrapping your legs around him, crying out his name even as another set of bangs echoes from the wall.
You cling to him, pressing kisses to his chest and shoulders until he rolls of off you with a sigh.
"Better?" he smiles.
"Fantastic," you reply, and lean over to kiss him.
"I can do you one even better when we get home," Brian sighs. "No angry neighbors interrupting us."
"You've not gotten any noise complaints with Anita?"
"No," he laughs and shakes his head as he gets up to toss the condom away.
"Then Anita and I have a goal to work towards," you say sweetly. "And we'll apologize to Spike in the morning."
"And every morning after this, if we've got time," Brian smiles and drops back into the bed. "Speaking of…"
13 notes · View notes