#I used to be very androgynous and while I’m not anymore

[bixels]

(guy who sent in the original i thought you were a lesbian ask) i just wanted to say i still find you just as attractive with the knowledge that you are a man, apologies if i made you feel uncomfortable or like you're less handsome for not being a hot butch. you're still plenty hot regardless and i'm sorry for inflicting tony hawk's sapphic nightmare on you

Tony Hawk’s Sapphic Nightmare is very funny, I would photoshop something if I could right now. Thank you.

#ask me #anon #rest assured this isn’t bothering me #I’ve gotten replies and asks saying they thought I was trans or enby too #and honestly it’s kinda nice hearing this #I used to be very androgynous and while I’m not anymore #it’s still nice to feel andro. like I’m confident that I’m he/him but being called cute or pretty is nice. that’s why I don’t put pronouns #like it feels nice that I can be masculine and still have people think I’m enby or andro or feminine. it’s good

[rottenpumpkin13]

Your body dysmorphia post has me Thinking.

Sephiroth and Genesis bodies are ultimately, very much for show.

Sephiroth is built for precision and agility, his blade and skillset meant for quick efficient culling of large groups of enemies or getting to weak spots on monsters. Like a scalpel. His muscles are mostly for his image, rather then from actual training. The mako makes sure he doesn't need as much physical mass for strength.

Genesis is similar. He's naturally slender, and his image is VERY much appearance focused. I mean hes a magic caster above all, so he's built for speed and dodging.

But Angeal? Angeal is all brute fucking force. That man is STRONG and built for it. You see wrestlers and professional strongman with his build, people meant to hit hard and move weight around. He's like an ox. He puts weight on differently then the other two, and he's a foodie! (Also there's probably something with growing up in relative poverty and then not being there anymore.)

And it is honestly inevitable that they're going to be compared. Their the three Firsts, they're seen together a LOT in pr events and such. And its even more inevitable Angeal is going to compare himself as well.

Angeal's phisyque is impressive and I don't doubt Genesis envies him for it sometimes. He's strong and puts on muscle easily, which I imagine is extremely valued in SOLDIER. I agree, the comparisons are inevitable and I could see it affecting all three of them (even Sephiroth, who could favor Gen and Angeal's more "human" looks over his own).

I beg you to forgive my mini rant under the cut. I fell down a rabbit hole, got keyboard-happy, and want to share my thoughts with you lol.

Assuming the east-Asian male beauty standards are the same in the FF7 world, Angeal is essentially friends with two of the most⏤if not the most⏤attractive men on the planet. He would have grown up seeing Sephiroth and Genesis receive praise and admiration for their looks and constantly being compared to them.

I’m not sure what influenced Angeal’s character design exactly, though we can say that Sephiroth and Genesis’ designs are in contrast to the Western ideals, Genesis more so because he was based off of Gackt (specifically Gackt in the 2000s), which means his design adheres to the east-asian male beauty standard. The two are so contrasting because the east-Asian male standards promote more androgynous and softer looks as opposed to the West’s fixation on hyper-masculinity.

I would say Sephiroth is a mix of both. While his design is inspired by Japanese historical figures and features that give him that “bishonen” appeal, his overall design is pretty masculine. He’s tall and muscular. His body, overall fits into the West’s standards while his face is ethereal enough for us to fit it into the east-Asian standards. Aspects that the West would consider effeminate such as the long hair actually used to indicate a warrior’s class. Funnily enough, long hair as a symbol of masculinity used to be a thing across many cultures, not just in Japan.

The thing about Angeal is, he is attractive. He fits the Western male beauty standard down to a T with traits such as being tall, having a muscular build, square jaw, and facial hair. But if indeed the FF7 world’s equivalent of male beauty is the same as Japan’s… Well, maybe getting compared to Sephiroth and Genesis gets to him.

Don’t get it wrong, the comments about his appearance are usually positive, but they’re always about how “strong and ripped and big” he is. Not to mention he constantly gets told how much older he looks than Sephiroth and Genesis despite being the same age as them.

He doesn’t feel attractive, he feels useful. He sees his body as a tool to get his job done. He has the body of a warrior, a Soldier. It’s built for fighting. The problem is, he’s constantly compared to his friends—the same friends who get compared to angels. They stand out, they’re pleasing to look at. He may be at an advantage with his brute force and ideal masculine physique, but—and I cannot stress this enough—men are not immune to body image issues and eating disorders.

I’ll admit that this headcanon partially stemmed from comments I’ve seen about Angeal’s appearance within the fandom. Some people think he’s ugly, which is fine, no one is forced to find anyone attractive. But I imagine the hurtful comments and the constant comparisons to his “more attractive” friends could hurt Angeal if he were to see them in his day to day life. He may be an enhanced super-soldier, but he's still human.

Again, please forgive the word vomit. I just have so many thoughts on this lol

#angeal hewley #ffvii crisis core #ff7 crisis core #ff7cc #asks #tw body dysmorphia #tw body image #tw body issues

[sylvandalism]

random musings from my drafts on style:

I take a certain amount of joy in arranging my outfits and cross referencing and matching shades so that they all comes together in one lovely visage. one of my favorite parts of planning for any event has always been deciding the outfit- how to select and style it appropriately. at one point I got really into the YouTube/fashion blogs/reddit side of it all which I still find somewhat interesting but I realized it’s not so much trends that I care about but the process behind what we wear. style can both complement and extend your sense of self. I still thinks trends can be fascinating to observe over time and what they transmit about the State of Things (hemlines relating to impending recessions, the popularity of androgynous styles speaking to a more nuanced understanding of gender, the commodification of the working man’s tools a la carhartt, etc.), but I’m not rushing to change my wardrobe every couple of months because some influencer said Chelsea boots aren’t in anymore. that’s the lovely aspect of fashion and what you come to realize as you get older: you dress best when you dress for yourself. it can seem like a silly little adage but it is a nice one to have in your pocket. for example, I’ve learned that I really value structure in my outfits, so no matter how hard I try to pull off the oversized and amorphous shearling coat look, it just doesn’t do it for me. and that’s fine because I can use the principle of the trend and apply it elsewhere in a way that does make me feel comfortable and good.

there are of course valuable rules of thumb which I find helpful when it comes to looking more deliberately polished. people ask me what I use and where I get things from to which I usually want to respond that it’s not the source that matters (barring of course the ethical fashion debate which is a whole other can of worms) but what it is. you’re looking for excellent construction and attention to details (reinforced seams, no loose threads, padding, etc), coordination with the rest of your color palette and closet, and complementing the setting (seasonally appropriate, formal vs informal etc). for example if you’d like a wide leg trouser silhouette, in the summer you’d opt for a light colored lined linen pant with brighter colors and in the winter you’d go for a wool blend with appropriate footwear and outerwear. perhaps that’s where the more conservative side of style comes into play but I do think some of the rules have stuck around because there’s some merit to it. at the very least I derive a measure of comfort from looking more polished and deliberate in a society that’s endlessly critical of appearances.

and then there’s the issue of branding and quality which is a slippery slope because the whole concept of quality is now mired in conversations about over consumption, terrible labor practices, ethically dubious marketing policies, greenwashing and so on. it got really overwhelming at some point so I withdrew from it for a while and now I find myself returning to the methodology behind our clothes: why we love certain colors during the seasons, the elegance of the way raw silk drapes, the cut of a coat and how it rests on your shoulders. i am privileged to be able to deliberate over my clothes- I can choose them and arrange them as needed.

growing up my aunt loved to make our formal clothes: she would take our measurements, source the proper fabric, find matching accessories, and take them to the tailor to get sewn. and then we would have fitting sessions in the living room and she would walk around scrutinizing the dress, pinching and pulling on the fabric and hem. If the sleeves were too itchy or the length too long, it would go back to the tailor or she might whip out her sewing machine and adjust it right there. it could take weeks to months for an outfit to materialize to her perfection, but it usually ended up being the nicest dress I’d ever worn.

#me #style

[jingsyuans]

i am so. desperately in love with your content i literally only JUST found you but the way you write jing yuan makes me kick my feet and roll around (im very much hyperfixated on him and star rail as a whole) hes just ssssoo.. hehehehheee

not to mention i get so happy when people who write for unspecified/gn reader actually make the reader androgynous or unlabelled cuz as a male reader seeing ppl label it as genderneutral and then having them be described w/ feminine terms is.. 😭😭

i will be keeping my eyes PEELED i say. one of these days i may have the courage to request myself eueeheheheh..

I understand you w the gn stuff!! I think the thing is… it’s obvious when someone gender queer writes inserts and someone who isn’t writes inserts. I’ll be honest and say that in terms of nsfw content, I used to be strict abt gn terms all throughout, but now I’m at the point where I realize it kind of takes away from the sexiness if I don’t use any descriptions for the readers sex at all. Plus, prep for gay sex is way different than straight sex, so that’s a pretty dead giveaway. Since I do in fact have female genitalia and I’ve grown comfortable with my body as it is over the years, I’ll write fem aligned smut more often, just because of my own immersion. That being said though I’m very open to writing male aligned smut as well, it’s just not my default anymore. That’s at least why I always warn in smut that eeehhh while I may not be using pronouns, itssss pretty fem! I’ll even warn when I use gendered names like babygirl or whatever, because I know that’s not what some people are looking for. I’m pretty blunt and honest about my content because I know what it’s like to be on the side that isn’t catered to as often.

This was 100% me rambling sorry ANYWAY! Yes for the most part I like to keep my readers neutral because in my mind there’s no need to specify sex or gender if it’s unimportant to the plot. I see people make a neutral reader and then proceed to project themselves onto it and it’s very obviously female, so the immersion kind of dissipates. Which, yk we make the content we like, so it makes sense. But it definitely feels like false advertisement sometimes when it comes to gender neutral readers. Again, it’s obvious when the writer is gender queer, and when the writer isn’t, lol.

I really love writing jing yuan so far! He’s definitely my type when it comes to brainrot characters. I’ve seen a few fics that really… in my opinion, don’t write him as himself. The sad fact for tumblr is there’s a generic type of personality that big characters will eventually mold into, and it removes a lot of their personality and individuality. You can see how over time their characterization is dumbed down for the sake of sex appeal, and it’s a little sad. I’m passionate about my writing and my characterizations, so I really try my best to keep them in line with how they act canonically. I strive for their own individuality and uniqueness so you’re reading for Jing Yuan, not generalized sexy tumblr man #443458. Yk?

Anyway!! Sorry for my rambling. I love nice feedback especially from other queer people. Feel free to drop a request any time, I assure you it’s not as embarrassing as you might think. I’m the embarrassing one If Anything cause I’m writing it down but LOL I’m past the point of no return. It’s fun to share and create content.

Thank you for the ask!

#asks #rly rambled a lot with this one #I like to derail and talk about shit

[hellsdaydreamwastaken]

Hello I don’t know how tumblr works i just got it but it’s me jane ur former twitter mutual and current letterboxd mutual.

anyways, I am ruminating on david cronenberg, (as i always am but at least i have more incentive cuz i’m writing another paper on his work) and I just thought like, in the new Crimes of the Future, Saul Tenser feels very androgynous to me, almost like one of those characters that gets headcanoned as both transmasc and transfem, would you agree?

yeah. i agree. not much to add really. don't use this much anymore except to reblog and post letterboxd reviews (haven't done the latter in a while cause i haven't seen a movie cause of the adhd med shortage)

[handweavers]

Hey, I’m going balik kampung soon, and I was wondering if you had any advise? I started hormones transitioning to female like a year ago, and while I’m okay enough living as my (c)agab while I’m visiting home, I’m still anxious. Since you’re trans, I thought maybe you had some tips?

hi sayang 🧡 i'm unfortunately not the best person to ask because while trans and msian i have privileges that many others don't as i have canadian documentation that has allowed me to change my name, gender, etc. even if i can't do that with my msian documents, and i choose to travel with them instead for safety reasons. i am also out to my family at home and they have been very accepting of my transition, including the elders surprisingly, so i'm able to be myself with them and do not have to live as my agab. i am also not malay or muslim (i don't know if you are), my family are indian sikhs and my mother is a white christian so i think malaysian authorities are less concerned about how i present myself in general, the "rules" for me are a bit different, for better or worse.

however, for several years post-hrt my travel documents still had my agab and birth name so i had to try to present as my agab when travelling to and from msia. that was very stressful, especially because i couldn't easily pass as my agab anymore and while i have canadian documents they state that i was born in msia. but i've found that trying to look androgynous and staying as calm as possible helps, because if you act like you're scared or like you're doing something wrong (which neither of us are, but you know what i mean) they'll more likely pick up on it. appearing respectful, quiet, nonchalant, like you are just another cis person passing through customs, goes a long way i think.

thankfully, in my experience, even those who were suspicious of me and questioned my gender ultimately didn't seem to care to do anything about it and they just shrugged and let me through without issues. i had one guy at the border at jb go "um... it says here you are female?" and looked at me questioningly but i just simply said 'yes' and we just looked at each other blankly for a moment, and he literally shrugged and let me through lmfao. i think most of the border guys just don't really care, and if they question you more it just causes more work for them, especially if they're younger most are just bored and don't care. in my experience the situation has been similar whenever i've had to deal with any msian gov worker like that, whether i am using msian or canadian documents. unless you get someone who wants to make more work for themselves and be pembuat masalah you will probably be fine. generally speaking, remembering that most people just want to get on with their day and not cause problems for themselves can be reassuring.

however, once again i am not transmisogyny affected and i travel with canadian documents, so the degree of scrutiny that i face with msian border agents may be different from a transfem travelling with local documents. but obviously my malaysian documents still have my agab and birth name, so if i were to be looked up in the msian system that discrepancy would cause issues so some degree of anxiety will always be there, and there isn't anything i can do about that.

[spinosacha]

If permitted

Hi! So i’m a beginner in writing fics so be nice lol. This is a Enjoltaire story in a modern setting with shifting povs paralleling the ending of the student arch in the book but being a lot lighter in tone namely because they don’t die in the end (spoilers). Pretty fluffy i would say. Also Gran uses Them/them pronouns while Enj uses She/her pronouns here.

Trigger warning: includes police violence (not a very explicit description but it’s there shortly) + substance abuse+negative self talk.

Also I haven't personally faced police violence but I hope I have dealt with it in an inoffensive way but don’t hesitate to correct me if you find my way of writing about it inappropriate. 

Also I included a blockade of a bank and that inspired by a real action happening in paris recently! If you don’t know about the EACOP pipeline I recommend looking it up and/or checking out the movement against EACOP on instagram:

 https://www.instagram.com/stopeacop/

and if you want to contribute to the fight you can download the Regroop app:

https://apps.apple.com/us/app/regroop/id1645549437

That being said happy barricade day!

Grantaire could stop whenever they wanted too. That's what they had always said when faced with worrying looks. Of course they didn't actually believe that but they didn't really care. They didn't really matter anymore. It seemed that whoever they were had dissolved in wine and the sun. It sounds awfully romantic phrased like that but Grantaire could see how incredibly depressing it was. But they could stop whenever they wanted too. 

“How can the sun hurt you”, the reader might ask, apparently oblivious to sunburn. Well it could in a name. Apollo. Well that and Enjolras. All it took was the sound of that name and Grantaire became entirely undone, only just threading themself together before she arrived. Short hair cut like a mane, those ridiculously pretty androgynous facial features that seemed to skip the station of gender to drive directly to an awfully cliché platonic beauty, those focused and awake eyes and her voice that always sounded exactly like her- unlike Grantaire's voice that always seemed to betray them and run to whatever outer force was stronger that them.

That was what followed the name. They could leave whenever they wanted too. It was tempting because this feeling was not pleasant. They did love Enjolras, that much had gotten hard to deny, but their love was nonetheless theirs. No wonder it got soaked up in the dirtiness that followed them- the dirtiness that seemed like the only part left. It had taken a Grantaire to make Enjolras into something less than perfect but that will do it. 

Currently Gran was drinking at the Corinth because even Laigle and Jolly was busy actually doing stuff at the Amis meetings and then the name came. 

“Hi Gran. Can i sit here?”

She paused after pulling the chair out, awaiting an answer. 

Sun shone directly on Grantaire from the window revealing the dust and hair on their shirt while making them sweat from the heat and squint in the light. Very flattering.

“Sure”

She sat down.

“Ehm. I wanted to ask, just in case. I know we have quarreled a bit in the time we have known each other.”

That was understatement, or felt like it at least because while some disagreements had led to light banter and more opportunities to speak with Enjolras- to have Enjolras’ attention, the ugly discussions took days for Grantaire to shake off. 

“-but i want to let you know that i, not that it matters what i think, but i appreciate what you did at the action.”

The action. Civil disobedience against a plan to construct an oil pibe line in west africa that would not only be an environmental disaster but also a continuation of proud french colonial activity. One of the major banks investing in it was holding a general meeting and the abc had blocked the entrance alongside other activist groups. 

It had been a really good day for Enjolras. Sure, she had been shaken, even scared when the teargas came and when the police turned violent but part of her enjoyed the resistance even though she felt bad about it. Ideally stuff like that wouldn't happen and god knows some would be treated harsher than her but she felt like push back was a sign that it meant something. Deep inside of her, too deep for her to bother to reach into, she maybe also felt like this was her way of being someone and being worth something. Nobody could tell her she was living wrong if she had in any way helped make the world a better place. If that meant going out of her comfort zone, so be it. 

When the cops came, Gran had also come. Doing most of the action they had sat on a nearby bench drinking. They must have seen that Enjolras was getting anxious though, because when the cops came they headed directly to her and asked if they were allowed to lock arms with her to better secure their position. Of course they were. Of course. Though Enjolras’ patience often got tested by them and though Grantaire had sometimes overstepped, Enjolras genuinely liked Grantaire and she really wanted them to find something to truly care about. 

So when she approached the table it was not a feeling of obligation. In fact she was very excited to talk to them and nervous in a way she didn't really understand.  

“I really did appreciate it, Gran”. She paused to try and read their reaction.They looked down at their empty glass, wearing an expression she didn't know how to interpret so she went on.

“I don't want to push you into doing something you don’t want to do but i know you are a talented artist and the group could need some assistance with a poster for the pride protest”.

Enjolras had been told she doesnt reveal much with her body language and facial expression but she was convinced anybody could see how she hung on Grantaire's lips- no not like that- in anticipation of their answer. 

Though, Enjolras couldn't help but notice how soft Grans hair looked and how strands of their shoulder length hair created a transparent veil as dark lace curtains for their deep brown eyes that reflected the sun. As you do when talking to people you have no feelings for.

Grantaire didnt look up. Didn't dare to look up, until Enjolras asked, “Gran?”. When they met Enjolras’ gaze, the movement startled themself. 

“uh i think i could do that, yeah”

Then Courfeyrach attacked them from behind, hooking both arms around their necks, startling both of them.

“I’m really happy to hear that, Gran!”

“Jesus Courfeyrack”, Enjolras mumbled, clutching her heart.

“Hey, remember you said you would kiss Gran if they would help us out?”

Enjolras was convinced anybody would be able to see her flush now.

“I- i said i could kiss them as a FIGURE OF SPEECH”

“Sure thing. Got the mail from that group btw, they're in”

“Good to hear! I am very grateful you handle the hell that is emails”

Courfeyrac released his grip around them and started to flow away.

“Oh you should be”.

He left a thick silence behind.

“I should probably be going” Enjolras stood up from his chair.

“Yeah I'll see you”. Grantaire gave a careful smile. 

They always felt like this when talking to Enjolras one on one, so vulnerable. Surprisingly, this time they also felt a twist of an almost safe feeling, of course not comparable to the amount of anxiety they felt but it was there. They also couldn't help thinking about the complim*ent Enjolras had given them even though they told themself not to trust it as genuine. 

After the meeting was over Gran went home after they had tried to cheer Jolly up, who was frustrated of becoming ill yet again. Gran did not entertain any notions that they could really help their friends in any meaningful way, yet they always tried for some reason. 

When they had walked some way down the street on their way home though, they heard the voice of Enjolras call their name. They turned and saw her approach. 

“So. Ehm, fuck. Courfeyrack said that thing about the kiss and i-” She blushed, something Grantaire had never seen. It was like seeing a saint naked, surprising but not unwelcomed. 

“i- hope that didnt make you uncomfortable”

“ehm no, no it was fine.”

“Good! Good, cause i didn't want to make you uncomfortable, you know, that’s the last thing I would want… to do.”

Why were Enjolras being so weird? Gran had never seen her like this.

Enjolras breathed in looking at the sky and repeated “I dont want to make you uncomfortable.” She then looked at Grantaire. “So i’m going to ask first and don’t feel bad about saying no. That’s what Combefere told me to do”. She seemed to say the last part mostly to herself. 

She stepped closer to Gran, and Gran was equally confused, nervous and excited. Then she leaned slightly towards him and asked softly, “do you permit it?”.

They answered by meeting her lips in a quick kiss. When the pulled apart Enjolras’ smile was wide. “Of course i do” Grantaire whispered. 

The next kiss started soft and grew bolder, Enjolras pushed a strand of Grans hair behind their ear and then entangled her hand in the rest of their hair. Gran for once didnt think but only felt. The warmth, the butterflies, the need to be close to Enj. It was as if Grantaire had become a part of the pure perfection that is Enjolras in that moment. When they parted though, Grantaire also noticed a faint bit of themself in her. She also seemed nervous and a bit disheveled, as if she had hurriedly taken her jacket on to go after them.

Granataire felt the sunburn of the kiss for many days after and it was not a very nice feeling. After a high they always felt down the days after. Enjolras also lived in utter confusion for some time after. Nonetheless they both had the feeling that this was something they could get used to. They hoped and secretly believed that it wouldn't be the last time.

#idk i tried #enjoltaire #les mis #barricade day #enjoltaire fic #les mis fic #les amis de l'abc #amis #le amis #grantaire #fic

[inkbyajm]

Bottled Up

pairing: C.H. x fem!reader

category: angst, fluff

warnings: yelling, crying, insecurities

word count: 2.2k

notes: apologies for the tardy post, i wrote and rewrote and re-rewrote the whole angsty scene because i didn’t know if it was written well enough, i wanted to make sure you guys could feel the emotions that i vividly visualised and tried my best to put into words  :( i did send it to a friend to check and she seemed to like it, so let me know how it goes for you, my loves. the angst for this one was inspired by 2 different songs - hold me while you wait by lewis capaldi and i will run from you by cemeteries. it’s not necessarily about the lyrics, but more about the melody and the mood you get into listening to them (they go in order). give those a listen :) also, beware of the upcoming philosophy references, i did study philosophy last year, hopefully no one gets triggered lmao

< previous    next >

Is a person’s scent something a normal human being picks up on before taking into account the rest of their features? Would a normal human being remember said scent and be able to recognise it in a crowd full of strangers? Corpse wasn’t too sure about the answer, but one thing he did know, is that she smelled delicately sweet, like cherry blossoms, and that ever since he had noticed it during their game night a few weeks ago, he simply couldn’t let it go. It was intoxicating, but in a calming way. 

━

Corpse and (Y/N) each lay on their beds in their own homes, going into the third hour of their call. He couldn’t exactly fall asleep, so he had decided to see what his dear friend was up to, and even though she was this close to succumbing to sleep, she said nothing and stayed up to keep his busy mind company.

“Okay, hot topic: what do you think about soulmates? More specifically the romantic type?” the girl asked, not knowing how much of a risqué question it was. How was he supposed to answer?

“I don’t really have an opinion on it. Why?”

“I read Symposium by Plato the other day and it presented an interesting concept about human beings. Basically-” Of course she fucking read philosophical books. How were they even having a conversation with each other? Why were they even friends? She was on a whole other level of smart. “-so this guy says that humans were like androgynous blobs, so they’d come in two sets of everything a normal person has. But those humans were so powerful, the gods were literally shaking in their robes, so Zeus decided to cut everyone into two to weaken them. But then humans became so miserable, they spent their entire lives searching for their other halves. In the end, Zeus kinda felt bad and said fuck it, I’ll give y’all dicks and vaginas for every time you wanna hug each other. And that’s the oldest explanation there is about the idea of soulmates.” she sighed, finished with her rant.

“That was...not at all the story I expected to hear.” she heard him mumble on the other side of the call. “Yeah, Greek philosophers were up to some reeal freaky things, you would have loved them,” he laughed at her joke, “I honestly think it’s cute. Not the whole cutting people into two thing, but like, longing for someone and then finding them because you finally feel complete. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a prince in shining whatever to sweep me off my feet. But it does sound nice, that ideal comfort, a person you���re just...meant to be with, I guess.”

There was a moment of silence that neither of them really minded, before it was Corpse’s turn to ask the second bold question of the night. “Have you found that person yet? Your soulmate?”

She’s never thought about it before, but she hasn’t really thought about soulmates that much either, it was a spontaneous thought she had said out loud. “I’m not sure, actually. (B/F/N) could be one, I guess.” (Y/N) shrugged in return. Wasn’t she going to ask him about it? She probably didn’t care that much. Understandable.

“My favourite quote about love is «You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.». It’s by Sam Keen, the American philosopher. It maay be the hopeless romantic in me shining through, but I do very much agree with his statement.” Did this mean anyone could have a chance with her despite their fuckups? So if he were to try, would she-?

“Obviously, there are some things that just can’t be ignored or avoided, but at that point it’s preferences and personal tolerance. Depends on the person, ya know?” she swiftly added, unaware of the effect it had on him. Sick. Some people were just meant to rot alone.

The final question was posed by (Y/N). She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at all curious. This little crush of hers had been steadily growing with every hang out, every laugh, every hug and every glance. There are rarely ever moments where one could casually discuss a topic this personal with friends, at least there weren’t with friends one had feelings for. This was the perfect opportunity.

“Corpse?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever been in love?” her voice was soft, her approach gentle.

“Well, I’ve been in relationships before, so I guess, yeah? It’s been so long, I don’t even know what love feels like anymore.” he let out a breath resembling a chuckle. Lamest fucking answer ever. But it was true. He hadn’t thought about love in that way in quite a while.

“A lot of people describe it as having an intense range of overwhelming feelings. Lightheadedness, slight shakiness, heart palpitations, some people have even reported losing their appetite. Crazy how human bodies work, huh? Oh! Speaking of chemicals-”

She had continued on to ramble about...chemistry? Eyes? Corpse couldn’t really hear what she was saying anymore, let alone concentrate on her words, as he pieced everything that’s been happening for the past few months together. The nauseating feeling. The pounding of his heart so fast it felt like he was about to die. The urge to make as little eye contact with her as possible, because otherwise he’d turn into a furnace. The obsession with her perfume, like he was some fucking creep. The fool was falling in love. And it was at that moment that everything had come crumbling down.

━

(Y/N) and Corpse hadn’t talked for a couple of weeks. Or rather (Y/N) messaged the 23 year old many times, but he’d either claim to be busy or just not answer at all. There were two possible reasons for the sudden lack of contact: he was indeed busy with his musical projects and couldn’t allow himself to be distracted; or something much more serious was going on. It didn’t matter, for she was already in her car, on her way to his apartment.

Arriving at her destination, she used the spare key he gave her months ago, a sign of absolute trust, and allowed herself into his humble abode. Silence reigned in her friend’s residence. She thought maybe he had gone somewhere, and though that was unlikely, it wasn’t unprecedented. The door to his recording room was closed, and while she was tempted to check if he was in there, she refrained from doing so, knowing that specific room was not to be entered unless he was around to give permission.

“Corpse?” she called out just to make sure. There was no response for a few minutes, which made her assume she had the place for herself, until she heard a door open behind her. Turning around, she saw his figure emerge from said recording room in a white t-shirt and black sweatpants, his curly hair disheveled.

“Hey, how are you d-”

“Why are you here?” he spoke flatly, interrupting her. “Well- You weren’t, um, answering your messages or any of my calls, so I thought something had happened.” she replied, suddenly nervous, fiddling with the rings on her fingers. “Nothing happened. I told you I was busy.”

The air around them seemed colder as tensions rose. (Y/N) could tell he was irritated, but she couldn’t exactly figure out why. She had never seen this side of him before. “Okay. Tell you what, I assume you haven’t had dinner yet, so why don’t I go ahead and start cooking something up while you-”

“Get out.”

She blinked a few times, not quite registering the words that had just left his mouth. “Sorry?” Her voice was quiet. She was taken off guard.

“Are you deaf? I said get. the fuck. OUT.”

Corpse shouted the last word, making her flinch in what appeared to be fear. Good. Run away while you still can. Heart pounding, (Y/N) took a second to remind herself whom she was speaking to. “I see that you’re angry, but at least give me a reason why-”

“You want a reason? I just don’t fucking WANT you here!” Anger grew inside of him like a tumor, but it wasn’t intended for her. She had simply been caught in a storm that had been building up for years. “Do you understand that?! I can’t fucking be around you without feeling like I’m going to EXPLODE.”

His words hit her like paintballs. They were only words, plain and simple, but they dug deeper and deeper into her skin with each hit, until, eventually, it broke. Eyes burning, she felt the tears slowly welling up in them.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” her own voice grew louder with frustration, but mostly, confusion.

“Maybe because I can? Because I’m a goddamn asshole?” 

“Don’t say that.”

“How?! How can I not say it when it’s the truth!” He wanted to stop. His mind told him to cease whatever it was that he was doing. However, blinded with resentment towards himself, he only spilled words he would regret after it was too late. 

“I can’t function like a normal fucking human being. I can’t be a good friend, son, or whatever the fuck else, and I sure as hell can’t love you.”

The paintballs had turned into a singular sword. A very long, very sharp sword that had found itself plunged deep inside her chest. How did he found out? When? Had she been too obvious? Had she been pushy? Clingy? Way out of line? The woman before him was unable to conceal her shock, as tears came rushing down her hot cheeks. Her voice brittle, she tried defending herself. She couldn’t leave it at that. She had to try. Try to have him see reason. “You don’t love me, that’s fine. But you didn’t have to deliver it this way-”

“But I did.” breathless with fury, Corpse clenched his fists so tight they had turned cold, yet they were still trembling. “You can get so naïve and dumb, you won’t understand things unless they’re spelled out nice and fucking bold for you.”

He closed with (Y/N) until their noses nearly touched. He noticed the way she silently shook, her eyes which shed endless tears never leaving his gaze. Unable to make a single sound, she felt the man’s hot breath on her face, his aura domineering.

“Now get. out.”

Her body wouldn’t cooperate as she just stood there. Staring back at him, her inner brows raised. Corpse wanted to hug her. Envelop her trembling figure with his and tell her he was sorry, that he meant none of it, that he had lost his mind. But he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. And with his own tears threatening to spill, he created a distance between them. He needed her gone.

“Leave! GO!”

His yelling was enough to jolt (Y/N) out of her trance, and, in a hurry, she sprinted towards the entrance. The door closed behind her, she felt a sudden urge to fill her lungs with much needed air. She jumped at the resounding scream that emanated from deep within his soul, letting out all of his pent-up rage.

Feet carrying her all the way to her car parked outside of the building, the young woman managed to climb in, and this was the queue for her body to break down. The night was young. The street empty. No one around to hear her long-lasting wailing. She clutched the steering wheel for support, fingers wrapping around the leather in a tight grip. A headache was creeping up from the back of her skull. Her ears pulsated in response to the heavy pounding of her heart. Clumsily, (Y/N) inserted the key into the ignition, felt around for the gear stick, and drove away. She didn’t know where she was going or how long it was going to take to get there. She needed to get out.

What went wrong? When did it go wrong? She couldn’t help but feel guilty, feel at fault. She had never seen that side of him before. He had never treated her that way before.

It was the hugs, wasn’t it? He had to have noticed the way she held on for a second too long to enjoy the smell of his cologne. Her vision blurred as she resumed softly weeping, her salty tears staining her top. Or it might have been the touchiness, she would practically glue herself to him during their movie nights. Unaware of both her actions and surroundings, (Y/N)’s breathing quickened, becoming ragged. Maybe he didn’t like the way she called him three times a week. Her hands were slowly losing control over the wheel, over the vehicle she was driving. She invaded his privacy. That was definitely it. Fuck. How could she have been so damn blind, selfish, ignorant, FUCKING STUPID.

Lights. Something was moving towards her- MOVE.

With a sharp turn, she dodged the approaching car just by a hair’s breadth, but as she had avoided one accident, another came just as quickly. 

#corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse x you #corpse husband x you #corpse husband fic

[midground]

Not to sound old, but I’m going to have a “kids these days” moment. I feel like when I was growing up, the older queers I knew put a big emphasis on taking the time you needed to figure yourself out and try out labels to see what worked. My queer identity has been evolving and changing for over 15 years. I feel like I’m still figuring stuff out about myself, and while it’s sometimes exhausting (you ever had to come out about like 6 or 7 different identities?) and sometimes frustrating (I’m almost 30, how am I STILL learning about new facets of myself?), I never felt like I was doing something wrong by learning about myself at my own pace. My gender and sexuality is and has always been a journey, not a destination. 

But these days, I feel like younger queers put a lot of pressure on themselves and each other to know all their labels perfectly and never get them “wrong”. It feels like nobody is telling anyone that it’s ok to try a label out just to see how it fits. Trying labels out helped me immensely, both when I was younger and like... 2 years ago when I was working out my gray-aromanticism. 

The very first thing I came out as was bi (in the early 2000s sense, where being bi meant you were into men and women) and each time I used that label for myself, I was able to pinpoint a little bit better that it wasn’t right for me. So a few months later I came out as a lesbian. A few years later, as I was figuring my gender out, I ditched lesbian because I didn’t identity as a woman anymore. And all of that was ok. 

I mean, some of the labels that I use now didn’t even EXIST 10, 15 years ago. I felt nonbinary long before the term nonbinary came into the public consciousness. And I used androgynous for a few years because it was the best word I had encountered before I discovered agender.

It feels like there are exponentially more labels today then there were when I was growing up, and that “kids these days” are using that wealth of nuance and expression to restrict each other rather than free each other. I’ve been working on a tabletop game recently about (among other things) being nonbinary, and I CONSTANTLY encounter people who are like “I want to be in your playtest, but I don’t ID as Nonbinary, I just have some kind of feelings about gender, so I don’t know if your game is For Me” as though the word nonbinary isn’t just shorthand for “having some kind of feelings about gender”. But people seem to think of it as Capital N Nonbinary instead of lowercase n nonbinary, like an Official Label instead of just a catchall for the plethora of genders that exist outside of the gender binary, and so people are afraid of taking up space not meant for them because they don’t personally ID as Nonbinary. (Which is, in my humble opinion, ridiculous.)

When I was younger, I heard “sexuality is a spectrum” “gender is a spectrum” “gender and sexuality are fluid” a LOT. We didn’t have as many labels, and things were confusing and messy, but also forgiving and exploratory. Now it’s all so rigid.

(And I can’t help but feel like the rise of gatekeeping in queer spaces and T*RF rhetoric is a huge component of that. When you claim that one group of people simply existing and living their truth “takes away” from another queer identity, you can also claim that trying out a label “takes away” from that queer identity as well. Like somehow there’s a finite amount of lesbianism in the world that’ll get used up if too many people ID as a lesbian and then move on from it later.)

I don’t know. I can’t really do anything about people who are going to get mad that some poor 14 year old hasn’t figured out ever single thing about their gender and sexuality by the end of their first year of high school. But I can say this: No matter how old you are, if you are still figuring yourself out, you have my permission to try that label (or those pronouns) out. Just try it out! And if it doesn’t work, put it aside and try a new one. Or don’t! You don’t have to do labels at all. Be kind to your friends when they want to try something out too. And let them move at their own pace.

The labels exist to help us express ourselves. Or at least they should. They don’t exist to arbitrate what kind of feelings we’re allowed to feel or how we’re allowed to feel them. And they CERTAINLY don’t exist to divide us out into separate little boxes. We all exist under the same umbrella. And just to be 100% crystal clear, my big queer umbrella includes asexuals and aromantics as well. And if you don’t like to use the word queer for yourself, you are welcome to think of it as a big LGBTQIA umbrella instead.

#queer #nonbinary #asexuality #aromanticism #trans positivity #ace positivity #aro positivity #nonbinary positivity #gender #sexuality #long post #I didn't really mean to make a post this long but apparently I had some feelings to express

[yelenayena]

Chemistry

Pairing: Pieck Finger x fem!reader

Genre: Romance

Warning: None (YAY✨), modern AU

Fun fact: Nanaba is an ex-girlfriend of Miche

Summary: You have an affair with Pieck, while she has an on-off relationship with Porco. You feel so jealous when she came to Colt’s party with him. Even so, you can't let them ruin your mood, and Thank God It's Friday, everything is possible when you are at the party on Friday night 🌚 ✨

A/N: I am a PokkoPiku shipper, but I also like her as a lesbian, but I don't like PikuLena ship bc Yelena is ours 😔 so that's why I made this story, I hope you like it 💜✨ I’m sorry if my writing is bad, still learning to write a story in English

Pieck looked at the picture that you sent on iMessage. She closed the app when Porco got behind the wheel. He turned his head and winked at Pieck who sat next to him on the passenger seat. He turned the engine on and he drove to Colt’s place.

“Let’s go, beauty,” said Porco, he opened the door for Pieck as they arrived at Colt’s place. “We're gonna have fun tonight,” he continued.

Pieck didn't reply but gave him a little smile. They both come inside, the house already crowded with people who joined the party. Porco held Pieck’s hand, he brought Pieck to their friends and joined them.

You saw them just come in, and your heart was pounding immediately. You felt jealous in your heart as you saw her in his arms and smiled at him. You rolled your eyes and tried to ignore that shitty couple. You smiled when you heard Connie’s silly stories, but deep inside your head, you can't get rid of Pieck’s face in your mind. You thought she wouldn't come with Porco, but maybe she had been together with him again. You felt sick of their on-off relationship.

You and Pieck were just friends. You have known her since the first year in college, as you both entered the same club in the university, Archery Club. She already had an on-off relationship with Porco at that time, but she knew you like girls, and she wanted to test her sexual orientation. So she often texted and called you whenever she needed someone to talk to until you both found chemistry. Sometimes you wish she would end her relationship with Porco and start dating you, but every time you think you're gonna get her, she‘s back to him instead.

You wish you could hate her, but you like her so much, Pieck is the woman you've always dreamed of. She’s beautiful, warm, and kind, and she has a very beautiful smile. The moments when you spent with her are the magical ones. You are just her secret affair, but you can't ignore her every time she needs you.

You let out a long sigh. Tonight is Colt’s party, you think that you should've had fun. Don't let your negative thoughts affect your mood here. You saw everyone you know has come to this party.

Everybody seems so fabulous, and they look so happy dancing or chit-chatting with their partner. It was so pitiful you just drink alone, even Oluo is dancing with Petra now. And, ugh! You just saw Pieck kissing Porco, you glanced away quickly and searched for something entertaining like watching Sasha’s silly dance with Niccolo. You gulped your beer and chuckled watching them.

“They're a hilarious couple, but they seemed to have each other. I mean, the girl likes to eat, the boy likes to cook. What's better than that? They really match as a couple.”

Someone talked to you. You turned your head, there's a small and tall blonde smiling at you. Your eyes narrowed, trying to see if you recognize the figure standing in front of you.

“They're one of my fave couples in this world,” you replied, ignoring the fact that you don't know her. It's a party, after all, you can talk to anybody if you want, even to strangers.

She smiled, “oh, I'm Nanaba by the way.”

“I’m-” before you can finish your words, she interrupted you.

“I know you, you're Y/N.”

You stared at her in confusion, “how did you-”

“Hange. We're both friends. Before I came here, she knew that I was keeping an eye on you, so she challenged me if I dared to greet you. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, don't worry, being alone sucks. I was like a kitten who got lost in this crowd.”

“Not true, you looked so cute when you were alone.”

You smiled when you heard her teased you. “So, how did you know Hange?”

And your conversation continued with her story about how she can be friends with Hange, Levi, and Miche. She’s a fourth-year student, just like Levi, Hange, and Miche, in the Culinary Science program, in a different university as you, but she's a friend of Hange and friends and a senior of Eren and friends in high school.

You think that she's cool, she looks calm, but when she talks, you know that she’s pretty funny and has a good personality. She has an average build for her height, maybe around five feet seven inches. She had blue eyes and short blonde hair, which was parted slightly to the right with short bangs and an undercut. Her appearance was very good. She looks like an androgynous supermodel.

She touched your arm to protect you from the others who went crazy and wild while they were dancing around you. At that moment, you and she looked at each other. She gave you a beautiful smile, you feel better now when she's around you. And it makes you feel that you want to know more about her.

“Do you know her? I think she keeps glancing this way,” said Nanaba while you both laughed after she told you about the silly story of Miche in high school.

“Who?” you asked.

“That girl over there, the one who wore a yellow blouse and was embraced by her boyfriend. Her face looked jealous. Eww, She has a boyfriend, but she keeps glancing at others, I feel sorry for her boyfriend,” she explained.

You know who it is, what she meant was Pieck. Pieck was indeed staring at you, but when you glanced at her, she glanced away immediately. “Just ignore her,” you said.

Nanaba looked nonchalant then she continued her hilarious stories about her and her friends. You both acted like you were old friends. She can make you forget your sadness. You two look like you enjoyed having the time together at the party.

The longer you talked, the closer she got to you until her arms touched yours. You guys were so captivated by this magical moment that you didn't even realize her bodies were closing in. You reached your consciousness when someone grabbed your hand.

It was Pieck who held your hand. “We need to talk, ” she said.

“For what?” you asked.

“Please, I'm begging you,” she pleaded.

“But-”

“It’s okay,” said Nanaba. “Go ahead and talk to her.”

You sighed then followed Pieck from behind. You turned your head back and looked at Nanaba. You moved your lips to give her a sign to wait for you there. She nodded and smiled at you.

Pieck brought you to the powder room. She placed your body on the sink and kissed your lips. “C’mon, ” she said when she stopped. She looked at you, “touch me like the way you used to,” she said before she continued to kiss you.

She always knows how to turn you on. This is how she got you wrapped around her, but you also enjoyed it and she tasted so good. You pulled her body and placed her on the sink. You kissed her back. She looked satisfied and replied to every move you made for her. When you kissed her neck, she writhed and gasped.

You continued to run your hand through Pieck’s hair while kissing her upper body. All the memories about you and her hit your head. When she gave you a beautiful smile on the first night you spent with her.

Your hand on her back now, hiding under her blouse to touch her soft skin. Your memories showed her figure when she always said your name when she let you touch her more deeply.

You know how to make her satisfied. You know her sensitive spot on her body. She once told you that she likes the way you touched her, something that she can’t get in her boyfriend. Of course, you're a girl, she's a girl. Who can understand better about girls? Obviously, girls themselves. Just like Katy Perry says in ‘I Kiss a Girl’, “Us girls, we are so magical. Soft skin, red lips, so kissable. Hard to resist, so touchable, too good to deny it.”

Besides, sometimes guys are too focused on how to make themselves satisfied rather than make their girls satisfied. And even some guys see girls as a tool to satisfy their appetites. That's why Pieck can't let you go.

You stop kissing her, “but I'm not your toy anymore.” Then you pulled her body and left her there alone in the powder room.

It is a hard decision, you still like her, but you've done being her toy. You'd tired waiting for her, whereas she always lets her boyfriend touch her like the way you used to. Now, it's time to cut her ties and open a new chapter. Plus, you found new chemistry in someone else.

If you read a manga of AOT comedy spin-off, Attack on Titan: Junior High by Saki Nakagawa (they an Isayama’s junior in college), the author made Nanaba seem to have a crush on Miche ambiguously. And many fans pair her with Miche, I like MikeNana ship as well, but just like Pieck, I also like her as a lesbian👩‍❤️‍👩💜

By the way, this story inspired by Hayley Kiyoko - Curious MV ✨

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #fanfic #aot au #pieck finger #pieck x you #pieck x reader #pieck fanart #modern au #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #nanaba #fanart #snk fandom #romance #pieck x y/n #pieck supremacy

[transguylifter]

What's it like being a trans llfter? Are you cis passing & therefore you don't get anxiety over not passing & therefore don't arouse suspicion for looking anxious? Do you pretend to be an innocent woman while llfting? What's your style? A lot of trans ppl are into alt fashion & a lot of trans men dress like trashy teenaged boys & all the tips I see are "dress like you can afford the place" or aimed towards women in general. Thanks!

I'm typically considered cis-passing (I think?), as long as I'm not using my customer service voice. Generally my only concern about my appearance stems from being neur*divergent, I now tend to wear the same jacket everywhere I go and I genuinely don't have a great grasp on what's considered "acting normal"

this blog's been a little inactive as I don't lift nearly as much anymore, but back when I did lift a decent amount (mostly from lower-end stores at the mall, d0llar tr33, r1t3 a1d, craft stores) I tried to dress very casually but not too messily.

I usually wore a grey pullover hoodie a lot, blue jeans that weren't too baggy or tight with no rips, and on occasion a jacket over that. Alternatively, a well-fitting button-down with short sleeves, or black pants. I tend to have a more casual, "basic" style, as I'm wary of feeling like I'm being looked at, even out of the context of lifting, it's just one of my slightly-debilitating neuroses

I live in a bigger city with a lot of at least mildly-alternative-looking people (lots of dyed hair), but I'm not sure how to gauge how that affects lifting. My boyfriend, who is also a trans guy, typically dresses more on the alternative (punk)/androgynous end, hasn't had many problems lifting from the same places I usually lifted from (as far as I know). But he's stopped lifting from anywhere other than d0llar tr33 due to anxiety about getting caught and his work finding out, so I don't have any recent experiences to pull from

I think the only advice I can really think of for guys is aim for a "clean" look, maybe keep the makeup off for the day unless using it to cover up eyebags and such. Take showers, keep your hair looking washed/somewhat neat (ok if a little messy), maybe use antiperspirant. Wear well-fitting, clean clothes with no rips. Try to relax your body. All-black or dark outfits are a bad choice

Sorry if this doesn't really help, I'm mostly retired from lifting as I just rarely go out anymore aside for work. Also, I would like to note me and my boyfriend are both white. I have lifted with a transmasc friend (who presents more androgynous) who is brown and into alternative (specifically emo) fashion, and he's told me he liked lifting with me because I'm like a "white privilege pass" but I'm not aware of the extent of his difficulties with lifting

#rj answers

[phoebe-delia]

Song number 79, please and thank you!

I'm really looking forward to reading all your stories because Taylor Swift is the best, as are song prompts!

Hey nonnie!! Thanks so much. Your song is "New Romantics" by Taylor Swift, of course. For this fic I have chosen to continue my little series called Androgynous, which features Draco, who generally uses he/him pronouns but has a nonbinary drag persona, named Tarasque, who uses they/them pronouns. Draco has a found family consisting of Pansy, Blaise, and a few drag queens (Claire, Cori and Silver), and they're all very close. Of course, he also has Harry, who is supportive and wonderful.

This will be a prequel, so Harry and Draco aren't together yet. This story--this series--is a love letter to the people who love us, support us and help us become who we are: our family. No matter where your family comes from or what it looks like, it isn't defined by blood, but by the ties you knot between you.

This series is, as always, dedicated to my own found family @moonstruckwytch @starlitsilvereyes and @apr1cots. Love you guys. <3

CW: homophobia

Generations ago, in ancient Galatia, there was born a dragon. Bred from Onachus and Leviathan, the creature lurked in treacherous waters, waiting for the right moment to leap out and strike, claiming men to feed its insatiable stomach. With sword-sharp teeth, poisonous breath, and a constellation of spikes across its back, this fearsome beast was the fright of man and the envy of demons.

They call it Tarasque.

Draco wiped the tears that spilled down his cheeks, his suitcase levitating behind him. The angry snarls from his father still rang in his ears, cruel and sharp.

"I'll not have a disgraceful poof for a son." Lucius hadn't looked at Draco when he spoke, the distinguished, aristocratic features facing the ancient walls of the Manor. "You have five minutes to collect your possessions and then you will leave this house."

So there Draco was, trudging through Knockturn Alley and avoiding the curious stares of those passing by him. It was getting dark, the western sun setting in the distance. He shivered against the biting, frigid air. He felt a rush of gratitude toward Pansy for letting him stay in her flat while he got back on his feet. He knew his mother, who'd come to her senses and left his father for a townhouse in France, would gladly take him in, but he knew if he left London he'd never gather the strength to return.

As he walked, he saw a neon sign out of the corner of his eye. "Deliquesce" shone in bright letters like a beacon in the darkening alleyway, beckoning Draco inside.

He sighed. He deserved a firewhiskey to calm his nerves.

He ended the levitation charm on his trunk and then shrunk it to fit into his pocket. He then walked along the cobblestone street and entered the bar.

A man wearing a tight red t-shirt and leather trousers looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"ID?"

Draco sputtered, searching his pockets until he found his identification card and handed it to the man for his scrutiny. The man pursed his lips as he looked over the card and then handed it to Draco with a grunt and a nod. Draco took that as permission and walked the rest of the way in.

The bar was dimly lit. A few tables surrounded a small dance floor and a stage. It was relatively quiet since the night was still young, but a few people were sitting and talking in hushed conversations. One person danced by himself to the upbeat song, uncaring of the world around him as he undulated his hips to the music.

Draco stood, stunned, until he felt someone bump his shoulder.

"Hey! Watch it--wait, you okay, hon?" Someone with long purple hair and a kind, open face looked at Draco in concern.

"I'm fine," Draco's voice was rough from crying, and he was sure his tear-stained cheeks and red eyes undermined his attempt at nonchalance.

The person's worried frown deepened. "Aren't you that Draco Malfoy kid?"

Draco flushed and turned away. "Not anymore," he croaked.

The person shook their head. "You're not who they wanted you to be, are you?"

Draco let out a shuddering breath. "No," he said, his voice tight. "I'm not who he wants me to be. I'm not his son."

Suddenly, he felt a warm hand gently take his own. "Come with me, kid, I think I can help."

They lead Draco into a back room. A row of mirrors and chairs lined the wall, as people chattered and sipped cocktails and ran around with wigs, half-done makeup, clothes, and heels. Draco blinked, stunned.

"What is this place?"

His guide smiled. "This is the dressing room. Not many people get a backstage pass like this but--well--you seem like you need some help."

Draco nodded dumbly and let himself be led to the person's station as a thought struck him.

"What's your name? Er, what do I call you?" He flushed at his own lack of manners.

The person smiled as they sat in their chair, patting the one next to them for Draco to sit. "My drag name is Nex Doughty, but my friends call me Cori."

Sitting down slowly, Draco nodded. "And um, I don't mean to be rude, but are you a man or a woman?"

The person chuckled a little. "Neither. I'm nonbinary. I use they/them pronouns."

"What does that mean?"

Cori shook their head with a small, amused smile. "I'll send you a few websites. For now, just use my pronouns right and we'll be fine."

Draco nodded dumbly. "O-okay."

"Don't be nervous, kid, you'll be fine. We're a family," they gestured to the other people in the room.

Draco's eyes widened. "This--this is your family?"

Cori laughed. "We're not related, but yes, they're all my family."

"But--aren't they your friends then?"

"Don't you have friends you'd consider to be your family? That you might even like better than your blood relatives?"

Draco let the thought linger for a moment. He considered Pansy and Blaise the siblings he never had, and it wasn't as if his Father had really raised him.

After a moment, he nodded. "Yeah, I do."

Cori smiled. "Then there you are." They leaned back in their chair and looked past Draco. "Silver! Claire! C'mere, I wanna introduce you to someone."

Two people came up to them, both with friendly smiles and expectant looks at Cori.

"Draco, this is Silver and Claire. Guys, this is Draco."

"Hi Draco, I'm Silver." said someone with red lipstick and short black hair cut in a bob that reminded him of Pansy.

The other person, who had short blonde hair and blue eyes smiled at him. "Good to meet you, I'm Claire."

Draco nodded. "Likewise. And are you no--nonbinary too?"

Silver smiled. "Cori's been a good teacher, I see. And I use any pronouns. Claire uses she/her."

"So--are you...what is this place?"

Cori smiled. "This is a drag bar. We're drag queens."

Draco's eyes widened in understanding. He'd only heard his father grumble about drag queens when he'd had to go to Knockturn on business ventures, and he'd been taught that they were "freaks."

With a pang, he remembered that, to his father, he was a freak too.

"Draco? Everything alright?"

He shook himself and looked back at Cori, whose face was set in concern again.

"I'm fine. Just..." he trailed off, taking in the sight of the three queens in front of him with more clarity. "Gods, you three are gorgeous," he breathed.

They all chucked. "Thank you, dear," Cori gave him a knowing look before tilting their head in thought. "You know," they said with pursed lips. "You'd look just darling in drag."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

Silver nodded. "Totally. You have the bone structure for it."

"I can definitely see it," Claire added with a smile.

Excitement bubbled up in Draco's chest. "Er, do you think you could help me?"

Cori looked at the other two queens, who grinned and nodded in agreement. Then they turned to Draco and gave him a soft smile. "Sure thing kid. Stick around after the show and we'll try it out."

Draco watched as the queens performed one by one over the course of the night, his leg bouncing in anticipation. He was mesmerized as they captured the crowd's attention, dancing and lipsynching to the songs with practiced ease.

When the show ended, Draco and Cori sat at their mirror while Cori applied powders and liquids he'd looked at with curiosity on his mother's vanity. While Cori didn't let him look in the mirror until they were finished, he loved the sensation of the brush against his skin and felt himself transform into something new, yet familiar. As if something had been living dormant in his skin, just waiting to be revealed.

Finally, Cori looked at him with a satisfied smile. "There. Are you ready?"

Draco nodded, no trusting himself to speak.

Cori nodded and turned him around in the chair toward the mirror. Draco gasped.

He hardly recognized himself. His gray eyes were enhanced by thick eyelashes and his face looked thinner, more feminine. A dark wig framed his face and brushed his shoulders. The red lipstick was bright and striking with his features. It felt like meeting a different part of himself he'd never known could exist.

Draco started to understand what Cori meant, earlier. The connection to masculinity had faded with the makeup and wig, and yet he didn't quite feel female, either.

Draco felt fierce, strong. They felt invincible.

Draco recalled Narcissa reading him bedtime stories of dashing knights and magical creatures, but his favorite had been of a powerful dragon that had defended against attackers with sharp teeth and poisonous breath. Saint Martha calmed the beast into submission, and then villagers had stoned the dragon to death.

He'd lie in bed after she'd gone, wondering if perhaps the dragon had reasons to attack. Maybe the villagers meant to kill it. Maybe it wanted to be left alone. Or maybe that's all it knew.

When Lucius had kicked Draco out, he'd felt helpless and terrified of his own shadow, much like he had during the war. Now, the fear still lingered in the back of his mind, but Draco knew there was more to the world than he'd once known.

And maybe Draco could learn to be fierce, too.

Suddenly, Cori put calming hands on Draco's shoulders. "So, what do you think?"

"I love it," Draco said breathily. "Thank you."

"Anytime," Cori said with a smile. "I can teach you how to do this yourself if you want."

Draco nodded quickly. "I'd like that, please, thank you."

"Well, you'll have to think of a name for your drag persona. Of course, you can use your real name if you want, some people do that."

"I've got a name."

"Oh? What is it?"

Draco looked in the mirror, gray eyes sharp with a newly ignited fire.

"Tarasque," Draco said, not glancing away. "Call me Tarasque."

Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!

#draco malfoy #harry potter #nonbinary draco malfoy #prequel #drag #draco in drag #lgbtq #lgbtqia #dedicated to my friends #song prompt #songfic #new romantics #taylor swift #harry potter x taylor swift #phoebedelia

[frostops]

I have some thoughts about how FGO has handled trans and trans-adjacent characters, and I’m frustrated how many people talk about the mishandlings without discussing the transmisogyny in it, but this is long as fuck, so its under the cut.

Its a good thing that FGO is having more characters with the genderless trait who aren’t given that trait for shitty reasons, but framing this as FGO being better at handling nonbinary characters, while technically true, ignores what caused many of the early issues. That cause is often transmisogyny.

Transmisogyny has been an issue in the game since Da Vinci’s introduction. Da Vinci doesn’t have the genderless trait, but she’s still important to discuss to understand FGO’s mishandling of trans characters. Mash and Romani are both angry at the idea of Leonardo Da Vinci not being a man, and call her a pervert, among other things. This is immediately after both find out King Arthur was actually a woman, but neither seemed to care then. Its understood by the writing that some believed to be a man turning out to actually be a cis woman isn’t deserving of malice, but that person turning out to be a trans woman is. The writing surrounding Da Vinci slowly got better, with characters being less shitty about and eventually respecting her gender. While Da Vinci initially describes herself as beyond gender, she says so in response to Roman and Mash’s reaction to her gender, where as whenever she is referred to as a woman (Lancelot saying he couldn’t hurt a beautiful women in Camelot, Napoleon calling her mademoiselle in LB2), she eats it up. Her early description of being beyond gender feels more like a tongue-in-cheek way of degendering a trans woman. While overall the writing treats Da Vinci better now, there are still times where it gets shitty, even as recent as the event where Van Gogh was introduced, where Hokusai talks about both Da Vinci and Van Gogh having an inherent maleness that bleeds into their art. This event did have a guest writer, but it was still allowed into the game.

The first character to have the genderless trait is D’Eon. Historically, D’Eon was intersex and trans feminine, and very likely a trans woman, but the fate version is introduced saying they were crazy in life, intended to be in reference to how they presented their gender. They are also presented as caring more about loyalty to France than what gender they are seen as, when the real D’Eon blackmailed the king into legally recognizing them as a woman. Transmisogyny, as well as intersexism, is pretty obviously what made Type-Moon take reduce D’Eon to just jokes about gender. D’Eon feels degendered in way similar to how Da Vinci is at time, though D’Eon gets it worse

Astolfo debuted in Apocrypha, where their presentation is used for a joke where Jeanne, believing Astolfo to be a girl, freaks out when she sees that Astolfo has a penis. The joke is that it is such a horrible thing to find a penis on some you think is a girl. I shouldn’t need to explain the transmisogyny behind that, or that Astolfo ostensibly not being a trans woman doesn’t make the joke less transmisogynistic. There are other, better things about Astolfo in Apocrypha, but most of their writing in FGO is in the same vein as the joke with Jeanne. This is crystalized in Agartha, where both Astolfo and D’Eon were used for many transmisogynistic, intersexist, and homophobic jokes. 

The third, and for a long time last, character to have the genderless trait was Enkidu. They are given this trait due to changes to their myth. In Fate, Enkidu is made of clay, and had a nonhuman appearance until meeting Shamhat, and modeling their appearance after her. They don’t have a physical sex, but, due to originally being a male character and appearing feminine in fate, the writers and fans alike treat them similarly to how they treat Astolfo and D’Eon, though less aggressively. Usually when Enkidu appears in a fate work, one character has to talk about how they can’t tell whether Enkidu is a man or a woman, before settling on neither, but only reach that conclusion because they don’t have a physical sex. The transmisogyny isn’t as strong in Enkidu’s writing, but its still there.

Until LB3, no other character would be given the genderless trait, and what all 3 of them have in common is being AMAB or originally male characters who present femininely. Technically Da Vinci fits this description as well, but her body is considered female by Type-Moon’s standards, so she gets the female trait. Also, with the exception of Astolfo, have bodies that wouldn’t considered male of female by most people. In Deon’s case, this is the result of intersexism, and even more frustrating when you remember that D’Eon blackmailed the king to be seen as a woman. I’d wager the reason Astolfo is grouped with the other two is itself a continuation of the joke from Apocrypha. It’s a coy “We all know what Astolfo’s ‘real’ gender is, but we’ll play along with the joke.” 

I think this also explains other characters who, arguably, could be included in the genderless trait, but were not. Nezha, like Da Vinci, only got a “female” body after dying, so they get the female trait too, despite not really being comfortable with any gender labels. Mordred, who consistently gets violently angry at being called a woman, and whose bio states that they don’t like being referred to as a man either (though this wouldn’t be implemented into writing until LB3, where they are clearly far less bothered by being referred to as man) also  has the female trait. King Hassan’s bio has his gender listed as “?????” but he is treated as male by the game and has the male trait.

None of the newer genderless servants fit the same description of amab/originally male and presenting femininely, which does show a more nuanced understanding of gender identity and expression, but it doesn’t show anymore respect towards trans women and transfems. Both Shi Huang Di and Douman have somewhat androgynous presentations, but we still don’t really have trans fem character whose gender and presentation is treated respectfully other than Da Vinci, and that’s frustrating. For the most part, though, these characters are all pretty well handled. 

Two of them, Mao Nobu and Romulus-Quirinus, are new versions of characters who already had the female and male trait respectively, meaning the game has at least someone moved away from equating the genderless trait to a character’s physical sex, but not entirely since part of the reason Shi Huang Di has the trait is their inability to reproduce.

There is some disagreement about how Caenis is handled, and I do have thoughts on that topic, but if I talked about that this would be twice as long. The short version is that the necessity to make characters fit into fanservice, something which negatively affects all of the characters I mention here, limits the ways in which Caenis’s relationship to their gender can be explored. Its also why we have Caenis and not Caenus, and why Caenis is rarely allowed to where a shirt.

There is also Dioscuri, who is two characters, one man and one woman, who are collectively on servant, so even though they have the genderless trait, they're not really relevant.

We do have more originally male characters now in female bodies. Vritra and Van Gogh, who were added recently (Vritra’s bio says she was originally male and now has a female vessel and Van Gogh is Vincent Van Gogh in Clytie’s body), Kama, an originally male deity possessing Sakura’s body, is being added to NA this year, and even back in part 1 we had Quetzalcoatl, another male god in a female vessel. All of them are given the female trait, and Quetz in particular seems to be very comfortable being a woman, but this still feels like what happened with Nezha, where the “physically female” body matters more than the identity of the character, especially with Van Gogh, who had no choice in being put in Clytie’s body. 

Mechanically, the gender traits only affect certain skills and nps, having extra or stronger effects. The genderless servants are exempt from the extra effects, with one exception. Once of Blackbeard’s skills has an effect for female servants, but D’Eon and Astolfo (And maybe also Enkidu, but I don’t remember) were included in this effect as well. The joke here was that Blackbeard is written to be reflective of  the worst qualities of weebs and otakus. many of whom would refer to those two as traps, a transmisogynistic slur, so Blackbeard is into them in the same way. Servants with the genderless trait added afterwards weren’t included in this effect, even though some of them (the ones who transphobic fate fans consider to be women) would still be seen as attractive by Blackbeard. So rather than coding each one individually to be included, they added a new trait, the female looking trait, for Blackbeard’s skill. The genderless servants included in this one all present feminine, but the inclusion of this trait is to make continuing a transphobic joke easier, which almost feels like a step back from some of the previous progress in handling trans characters.

I also think some people are a little too eager to give FGO credit when it may not deserve. For instance, a lot of people liked Douman being included in the genderless trait, and on its own it fine, but the my room line where Sei talks about trying to check under Douman’s robes concerns me. Many people took it as Sei just being horny for Douman, but it could easily be intended as Sei trying to check what’s really in his pants, especially since the canon reason Douman has the genderless trait is that he combined himself with some spirits and deities, one of which is female.

None of this is to say its wrong to view any of these characters as nonbinary (I do view most of them as nonbinary), but I don’t think we should view the genderless trait as equivalent to nonbinary. Not only are there characters included in it who probably shouldn’t be (like D’Eon) and characters who don’t have it who probably should (like Nezha), doing so treat nonbinary as a third and wholly separate gender. And if you’re going to talk about the transphobia of FGO, please be willing to use the word transmisogyny.

#transmisogyny #transphobia #fate grand order #fate/go

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

Anon: I loved your Celebrian headcanons, do you have any on Manwe?

Ohhhhh anon, you’re asking if I have headcanons on my favorite bird boy? Do I ever. Get ready for this, because I’m about to give you way more than you probably asked for. Also please forgive how rambly and unorganized the headcanons are - I simply do not have the space of mind to be neat when I’m gushing about Manwë. 

(I’ve already done some previous headcanons on him xD You can find them here and here, even though this was a while ago and I don’t necessarily still agree with some of these anymore. What’s unchanging, though, is my eternal love for Manwë Súlimo.

The post got ahead of me and it’s quite long, so I’ll put most of the headcanons under a cut. 

Split off of the same thought of Eru, Manwë and Melkor were “born” at the exact same time. Because of this, there is no “younger” and “older” between them - they’re simply siblings.

I also consider them two halves of one whole, given that they’re literally products of the same thought broken in two. 

He and Melkor are chronologically the oldest beings, aside from Eru; they were the Ainur first created by Him. Nevertheless, they aren’t much older than a lot of the other Aratar, like Varda, Ulmo, Námo, Niënna, and Yavanna, and it’s definitely nothing so considerable that it would matter in the slightest to cosmic angelic beings like the Ainur

His closest friends among the Ainur are Varda and Ulmo, but he’s close with all the Valar, and at least on familiar terms with all the Maiar that serve the Valar in Arda

In addition, all of the Valar are part of the #manwëdefensesquad. I don’t make the rules. There are times when they don’t agree with their king, there are times when talk to him and voice their disapproval, but when it comes to action, they will always support him.

Varda and Manwë met in the Timeless Halls, sometime after their creation. (I’d pin it around a few centuries, but again, what the heck is time to the Ainur?) She was singing while she experimented with the light and the making of the stars; Manwë raised his voice, tentatively singing with her. They became fast friends. He was charmed by her quick wit, her willingness to share, and her open-mindedness and creativity.

He and Varda have made all kinds of odd structures together, combining their authority (Manwë over the air, wind, and skies, Varda over light). One time they produced a miniature tornado with stars swirling inside of it.

They got married before the creation of Arda, but after Aulë and Yavanna did 

He also met Ulmo in the Timeless Halls; they both found each other’s elements intensely fascinating. Manwë was intrigued by this water, and Ulmo became curious about this air and wind. They came up with clouds together, combining Manwë’s power over air and Ulmo’s power over liquid, to form vapor.

When Arda was extremely, extremely young, long before the Eldar awoke in Cuiviénen, the two of them were testing out their respective elements in the new planet and got a little carried away. Winds picked up, the sky darkened and flashed with thunder and lightning. The ocean rose, waves crashing and roiling, and the first sea storm happened as a result of their combined powers. After that, Manwë and Ulmo both decided they should probably be a bit more cautious if they didn’t want to render the place uninhabitable. 

At one time, there was no one Manwë was closer to than Melkor. Even though they were diametrically opposed in personality, they both had the same passion for Creation, the same love for their Father, and the same fascination with just the idea of creating in general.

Even now, with Melkor in the Void, a sensation of emptiness tickles at Manwë from time to time. It’s vacant and it’s bleak, like a phantom pain along the borders of his being, as if he’s missing something. This is his connection with his brother, severed now that they’ve gone down different paths and can no longer see eye to eye again

The break in their bond has left holes in both of their spirits. I mean this quite literally - because they were split off from the same thought, neither of them are complete without each other. Manwë is content now, because he (unlike Melkor, I might add, who can never be happy without him) is capable of finding meaningful and fulfilling relationships outside of his brother, but he will never be truly whole again. There’s always that sensation of something that was once there being gone. 

Canon says that Manwë has little understanding of evil, and I tend to agree. He doesn’t comprehend selfishness, the desire for domination, or the idea of wanting to hoard all the power, beauty, and joy to oneself. Where’s the good, the value, in that? But I do think that he knows intimately how Melkor’s mind works. It’s not the same as knowing how evil itself works - it’s just that he’s too well-versed in the way his brother in particular ticks. 

Despite this, he, along with most of the Valar, still gave Melkor the benefit of the doubt during his false repentance. He remembered the ages when Melkor was not so self-centered and not so concerned with only his own power and glory, when he would talk about Creation and about life with shining eyes, and how he envisioned a breathtakingly beautiful world full of vigor and possibility and opportunity. That was once who Melkor was, and he sincerely believed his brother could be that again. And besides, he wanted to let others try again - not only because this is his brother whom, despite everything, he loves deeply, but also because he doesn’t want to be the kind of person who won’t give second chances.

He was... disappointed, saddened, shocked, and discouraged, when it turned out that he was wrong. And, ultimately, he realized what betrayal felt like. 

Manwë is a natural charmer. I mean, he is magnetic. But it’s not because he flaunts his power and wisdom and has the “holier than thou” attitude that intimidates others - even though he’s just as capable of it as his brother, who utilizes that particular method to attract followers. Manwë’s  charisma comes from the fact that he’s just so down-to-earth, unpretentious, friendly, and warm, that you can’t help being drawn to him.

People are, like, in love with him and he’s thinking, “This is not what I meant to happen...”

He loves meeting people, talking to them, and getting to know them. Part of the reason so many people are loyal to him is because he’s a genuinely good boss. Treats everyone politely and considerately, gets to know everyone who works for him, makes all of them feel valued as individuals, lets them know how much he appreciates their hard work. 

As far as demeanor goes, he’s unassuming, modest, open, and relatively casual with everyone (unless there’s a reason not to be). Has been called “charming” more than once. He tends to be playful too, especially with the people he’s close with. 

An introvert. At the end of the day, he needs time to himself to unwind. 

He’s not closed off, per se, but he isn’t the type of person to actively start talking about his problems or insecurities. Someone he’s close to and trusts will have to notice he seems to have something on his mind and bring it up, to get him to mention what’s bothering him. 

During the darkening and after the Flight of the Noldor, relations between the remaining elves and the Ainur were strained. Manwë was distressed by the dissatisfaction of the Eldar and worked tirelessly to mend the subsequent rift. Negotiations, explanations, visits, apologies, reassurances - you name it, Manwë put his heart into it if it meant reconnecting with the elves. 

A much better singer than his brother, and among the most gifted Ainur in terms of song (although a few, like Ulmo and Melian, equal or surpass him). Once, Melkor loved and truly admired the beauty of the music that Manwë could create with his voice alone. Now, he deeply envies it and is extremely bitter, seeing it as another way that their Father “favors” his brother over him. This resentment only grew worse as Melkor gradually lost his ability to produce anything beautiful at all, including music. My headcanon is that Melkor was once a decent singer among the Ainur, but as he grew more corrupt and evil, that ability went away until he could no longer sing at all. But, as much as Melkor refuses to admit it to himself, he also desperately longs to hear Manwë’s songs again.

Very patient, very compassionate, very understanding... but Melkor can get under his skin like no other. Who, by the way, will attest that Manwë can whip up with some sick burns when he wants to. Manwë has facepalmed exactly three times in his existence, and all three times were because of his brother. 

The standard physical form that Manwë uses has long silver-white hair, copper skin, luminous, pale blue eyes, and full lips. It’s tall, on the slimmer side, and due to how pretty the face is, very androgynous-looking. However, he has a tendency to fool around, meaning that other bodies he’s taken include but are not limited to: a female version of his standard appearance, various other “human” shapes, male or female, a cat with wings and the feet of a bird, and an owl with the wings of a fly. 

Varda’s personal favorite incident was when he adopted the form of a petite young woman with black hair, purple eyes, and purple, black, and blue butterfly wings scaled to the size of the body. When interacting with the Eruhíni, though, Manwë, along with most of the Ainur, sticks with the standard appearance to avoid confusing them.

Speaking of changing appearances, in the beginning, he, like the rest of the Ainur, had little concept of a “humanoid” form being “normal”. This resulted in him becoming all kinds of eldritch abominations, again including but not limited to a mass of eyes surrounded by several sets of wings, a nebulous, writhing pinprick of clouds and light, and even a being that resembled a humanoid but with a single eye in the middle of the forehead from which two wing-like appendages, covered with more eyes, sprouted. What can I say, he was always creative. 

He still takes wacky forms from time to time for the fun of it, often when joking around with the other Ainur, but nowadays he tones it down for the sake of the Eruhíni’s sanity. 

Interacts regularly with elves of Valinor. It’s a common sight for him to be spotted mingling within the Eldar populations of Valmar, or Alqualondë, or Tirion. Gets invited in for tea quite often. Children love him. He has had dinner arrangements with several families before.

The elves send him gifts, usually in the form of clothing since he likes trying on all kinds of different styles. Manwë doesn’t care to appear kingly or sophisticated, so he has no problem going out dressed plainly, or even ridiculously. That weird experimental garment that didn’t turn out quite the way the designer wanted? He’ll take it, and wear it gladly! 

He also doesn’t care to be treated with particular veneration by the Eruhíni or by the other Ainur. He’s much happier being on close enough terms with someone for them to address him like, “Hey Manwë, my man, what’s up?” rather than “All hail the Lord of the Winds, the Breath of Arda, blah blah blah”.

BFFs with Ingwë, often either visits him or invites him to Taniquetil. This means that Ingwë’s entire family regular interacts with and is very familiar with Manwë. (Varda's with him most of the time - everyone loves her, too. It’s a wholesome family friendship.)

One time, Ingwë’s kids witnessed another elf being extremely formal and stiff with Manwë (the classic, “O Manwë, Viceregent of Eru, Elder King of Arda, etc., etc.”) and had whiplash, because that’s like... Uncle Manwë! He was telling us bad jokes at the dinner table last night! 

Also has a fairly confidential relationship with Finarfin. They both understand the pain of dealing with troublesome impetuous brothers, after all.

He used to be close with Finwë and Olwë, too, but their relationship became somewhat strained following the matter with the Flight of the Noldor and how the Teleri were caught up in it via the Kinslaying at Alqualondë. They’re still on good terms, but it’s no longer as carefree as it once was. 

Was also once close with Fëanor, having known him since he was a child due to his friendship with Finwë. That sapphire scepter that was said to have been made for him by the Noldor? Yeah, that was Fëanor’s handiwork. It wasn’t until after Melkor’s release that Fëanor and Manwë’s relationship began to sour. 

A natural with kids. He can get any child to cheer up, whether they’re crying, pouting, or throwing a tantrum. Knows just what to say and what to do and when to do it, but also draws a firm line between being kind and spoiling them. 

I know Tolkien discarded this idea, but I love love love the thought of Eönwë and Ilmarë being his and Varda’s children. They didn’t have them in the sense that we’d think of having kids - as in physical sex and labor - but they did put their powers into “conceptualizing” them, so to speak. Eru would still be their “creator”, since (for the most part) only He can create conscious, sentient beings, but Manwë and Varda had enough influence over their creation to be called Eönwë’s and Ilmarë’s parents. 

Speaking of sex, again I’m contradicting Tolkien’s canon, but in my mind the Ainur can and do have sex. Some might choose not to, but it’s fully possible. (I mean... Melian and Thingol had Lúthien, so clearly the idea of physical relations is not lost on the Ainur.) Manwë doesn’t have a high sex drive, but if he loves someone, he also loves being intimate with them. 

Sexuality is a complicated matter to talk about for the Ainur, and I articulated by thoughts on it here, but to summarize how I see it is that they’re all bisexual. They don’t care; they don’t even need gendered physical bodies to begin with. Therefore, whoever strikes their fancy is is whoever they’ll be happy to get it on with. It’s the same with Manwë. 

The Lost Tales and the Silmarillion have conflicting versions of the Valar’s Siege of Utumno. In my book it’s a combination; after aggressive, devastating battles that changed the face of the continent, the Valar decided to take a more roundabout approach. Manwë comes up with the plan - they’ll pretend to have realized that they’re unable to break the might of Utumno, and are ready to acknowledge Melkor’s victory. Some of the Valar aren’t sure about this, but they follow their king’s lead. 

Now, Manwë knows that Melkor isn’t stupid, but he also knows his brother’s prideful mind the best. (He might not understand it, and he definitely doesn’t agree with it, but he knows it.) So he deliberately phrases the message in a way that he knows will best stroke Melkor’s ego and satisfy his craving for acknowledgement. He also makes sure to tell his messenger to let Melkor’s herald know that Manwë specifically said these words.

As per Manwë’s plan, Melkor calls the Valar into Utumno to pay homage before him. They arrive, and to let Melkor’s guard down even further, Manwë kneels in front of him. 

It’s a moment of surprisingly complicated emotions from both brothers. Melkor, about to thoroughly revel in his perceived victory, was shocked into silence - he actually was not expecting this. For a moment, it dawned on him that maybe, he and his brother’s bond, which was once stronger than anything else, didn’t have to be severed forever. He still saw it from a self-centered angle of having Manwë serve him, but nevertheless the possibility that he could reconnect with his brother, have Manwë at his side again, something he thought he had resigned himself to as being impossible, filled him with emotion.

For Manwë... similar thoughts about their once unshakeable relationship, but unlike his brother, he knows the whole thing is just a ruse. Still, he couldn’t help imagining what it would be like if he really gave. It was never a serious consideration, but the thought of what they had once been like, and the emphasis on the realization that they never could be that carefree and open with each other again, saddened him.

Manwë cherishes Creation dearly, loves it, fiercely and with every fiber of his being. Because of this, the utter destruction that he and the other Ainur wrought on Arda during the War of the Powers haunts him deeply, and he’s become wary of unleashing any might that is even similar to it onto Middle Earth. That, combined with his impression that the Noldor who left wanted nothing more to do with the Ainur, and his caution of interfering too heavily with the Eruhíni in Middle Earth lest the Valar start acting like Melkor, kept him from action until Eärendil and Elwing pleaded for help on behalf of the Children. Seeing all the suffering the Eruhíni went through, he sometimes regrets it, wondering if he had been more calculated about his moves, he could have prevented such heavy losses.

Nevertheless, he is firmly against meddling too much with the events of Middle Earth, especially because he understands that it’s difficult for the semi-prescient Ainur to see things on the same scale as the Children. He believes that there is always a possibility that they would get too heavily involved and end up unintentionally dominating the Eruhíni and the paths that they take, which is something he won’t allow. He was, however, very receptive to the idea of the Istari, and is also grateful for Ulmo’s occasional assistance and advice for the Children. Furthermore, he won’t hesitate to send the Eagles if anyone communicates the message to him.

There was one single time Manwë ever contemplated rebellion against Eru. It was during the Downfall of Númenor, when Eru made His intention known to wipe the island off the face of Arda known. Manwë pleaded with Him, argued with him, to reconsider, to find some way to punish only Sauron and Ar-Pharazôn, without the need to drown thousands, millions, of innocent people. Eru simply told him, unmovable, that Númenor had to fall, that there was to be no mercy, and Manwë genuinely wondered what would happen if he refused to comply. If he told his Father, “This is wrong. I won’t accept this.” 

But in the end, he realized that he was thinking the way his brother had, in the beginning. That it was unfair, that it was wrong, that only Eru have the Flame Imperishable and that no one else was able to create, in Melkor’s mind, true life. That’s the way Melkor thought, before it quickly became corrupted into, “It’s not fair that I don’t have the power to create true life.” And Manwë refuses to think like Melkor does, refuses to even let himself start down that path. He saw how it destroyed and twisted his brother into a menacing echo of who Melkor once was. And so he watches, still and silent, as Númenor is wiped out.

Manwë is loving. Very loving. He doesn’t hate anyone, doesn’t hold personal grudges, and he would like nothing more than for everyone to get along and be happy. He truly would love to forgive Melkor and everyone who sided with him, take them back and make amends. However, he knows that that’s impossible - that no matter how dearly he wishes to fix everything, if the other side (aka Melkor) isn’t willing, it’s just not going to happen. Sometimes he has moments of insecurity, when he wonders if it was due to his own shortcomings, his own failure to understand the Theme, that things won’t patch up. Objectively he knows - and the other Valar reassure him of this too - that he couldn’t possibly have prevented everything, and that Melkor and his followers made their own choices. But at times, it still stings him, thoughts of if only I did better or if only I was better.

As kind as he is, he is not a doormat - there are some things he will never tolerate. The destruction and pain Melkor caused the Eruhíni and brought upon Creation is something he will never approve of, will never condone, and you can bet he’ll use every ounce of his power to bring his brother to heel if it means putting a stop to that. 

Also, you can hurl barbs at him all you want and he won’t begrudge you, but do not insult his friends. He won’t smite you outright for it, but he’ll never forget it and certainly will never like you. 

There are times when you’re reminded that this is Melkor’s brother, that they came from the same thought of Eru, and that if Manwë was ever to allow himself to go down the same path of craving domination, he would be just as terrifying. Because on some days, he doesn’t feel like forgiving, doesn’t feel like Melkor deserves amends. He’s furious at his brother, furious at the things he’s done and the things he’s willing to do, and his eyes will glow so blindingly bright that it can be dangerous for any of the Eruhíni to look at him in that moment.

Sometimes during the First Age, when Manwë hears about his brother’s latest misdeed, all the wickedness and enslavement he’s attempted to bring into Arda, he doesn’t bother hiding his displeasure, his disapproval. Storm clouds roll in, the skies open up, rain starts to pour, lightning illuminates the entirety of the sky, and thunder crashes deafeningly - so loud that Melkor, even in the depths of Angband, can hear it clear as day. And he knows this is Manwë saying, “I know what you’ve done. You can’t hide it from me, brother.” 

#asks #manwë súlimo #manwë #manwë x varda #ulmo #melkor #morgoth #eru ilúvatar #tolkien headcanons #tolkien meta #tolkien #tolkien rambling #so #this got way too long #i have absolutely no regrets #me @ manwe #[i love you bitch] #[i ain't ever gonna stop loving you bitch] #ingwë #olwë #finwë #fëanor #alien ainur

[andyinmiddleearth]

Not to be cisphobic but like... you know what screw it, I hate cis people. And by that I don’t mean that I hate every single individual cis person that exists, I actually have several cis friends and family members that I am close to and love. I mean that I hate cis people as my oppressors, that I hate cis people as a class that oppresses gender-non-conforming, intersex, trans, and non-binary people. Here’s some examples of the systems of oppression cis people as a class have placed that still hurt us to this day:

I hate gender-reveals parties. I hate the fact that a baby’s interests, decorations, hell even their entire personality, is determined just by simply looking at the fetus’ outward genitalia. Not to mention how inaccurate it can be cause sex is a spectrum (meaning it’s much more than just genitalia, it includes hormones, chromosomes, etc, and these can be super diverse and I myself, an AFAB person, don’t naturally produce estrogen) which is why some intersex people don’t even know they’re intersex until they get checked out by a specialist in their late teens or twenties.

I hate cis people assuming pronouns, ESPECIALLY when it comes to people like me that are visibly queer. I hate going to a doctor’s office and having to listen to nurses and even doctors call me sis, girl, ma’am, lady, she, her, when over here I’m standing with a ‘men’s’ haircut and wearing entirely ‘men’s’ clothes. But as a whole, I just hate assuming people’s pronouns in general because gender is so much more than gender expression. Men can be feminine, women can be masculine, non-binary people can be as femme or masc as they want. Our bodies and our clothes don’t determine our gender. We do.

I also hate cis people not respecting pronouns on purpose, like that time at Einstein Bagels where I was wearing my he/him pin and the cashier kept repeatedly calling me ‘ma’am’ despite me wearing this 2.25 inch long button WITH MY PRONOUNS ON IT. I hate how I have family members that purposefully misgender me every single fucking day despite me being out as trans to them for YEARS because they just think ‘being transgender is a choice, like being vegan.’ I hate how one of these said family members does everything they fucking can to trigger my dysphoria and constant remind me that they see me as a woman.

I hate cissexism. I hate words like ‘lady parts’ and ‘boy parts’ and ‘girl parts.’ Boys and girls (and all genders) can have whatever private parts they have and still be their gender AND IT’S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS, and frankly very creepy to want to know what’s in someone’s pants. I hate how instead of using terms like afab or amab it’s just ‘male parts’ and ‘female parts,’ ‘male body,’ ‘female body,’ which also blatantly erases intersex people that may have both, or something else entirely different.

I hate how cis people have made this concept about the ‘the perfect trans person’ that people in the trans community (yes, I’m talking about transmeds) will shit on our non-binary and non-dysphoric trans siblings because ‘they make us look like a joke.’ Spoiler alert, cis people as a class hate trans people because they’re transphobic, period, not because some random non-binary sixteen year old uses ze/hir pronouns and is non-dysphoric. I hate how I was harassed on this platform FOR YEARS and sent hate on and off anon by transmeds simply because I, a dysphoric trans guy, think you don’t need dysphoria to be trans. Because I think being trans is so much more about being uncomfortable in your body, because I think you can have gender euphoria and not gender dysphoria. And I hate how the transmeds that bullied me also called me all kinds of slurs (both referring to my ethnicity as a Latino and also just homophobic ones like the f-slur) and perpetuated exactly the behavior they see white cishet men perform because they think that way maybe they will accept them. Spoiler alert; they won’t.

I hate how intersex babies are mutilated every day around the world simply because of how they are born while trans children and young adults are still being denied access to LIFE-SAVING resources like hormone blockers, HRT, surgery, etc. I hate how long the waitlists are for trans people in places like the UK and Canada are to transition, and I hate how monetarily expensive it can be even with insurance in the USA, since this is the main reason why I can’t start T right now (that and the fact that I live with family members that wouldn’t support me transitioning).

I hate how anything can be a ‘girl’ or ‘boy’ thing. Things as simple as drinks for fuck’s sake. Why is a beer a ‘man’s drink’ and a fruity cocktail a ‘lady’s drink?’ Same goes for everything... clothing, movies, certain games, even basic chores like cooking and cleaning. Hell, even interests can be a ‘girl or boy’ thing. One time I was reading a thick book and this cis man (he knew I’m AFAB cause my parents misgendered me to him obviously) went ‘oh yeah us guys don’t read that much.’ EXCUSE ME SIR BUT I AM A GUY, AND I DO NOT WANT TO BE ASSOCIATED WITH YOU!

I hate how when a trans person comes out as a child they are ‘too young to know,’ and when a trans person comes out as a teen they are ‘just going through a phase/copying trends,’ and when a trans person comes out as an adult then ‘they can’t really be trans because they never shoWeD thE siGns.’ There’s no age to realize you’re trans, everyone accepts their identity at different rates and that’s valid. And there’s no age to transition either.

I hate how when you come out as trans cis people magically expect you to suddenly not look trans anymore. How they expect trans men after coming out to have perfectly flat chests and no curves, how they expect trans women to suddenly grow boobs and look feminine af, and how they expect non-binary people to look as androgynous as possible. All kinds of bodies are trans, and you don’t need to medically transition to be trans. Some trans folks don’t have surgery or HRT or anything at all for whatever reason, and they’re still valid.

I hate how some cis people will misgender us trans people no matter how well we pass the minute they find out we’re trans. A trans man can have a flat chest, a full grown beard and a deep voice and the minute someone finds out he’s trans he’s suddenly ‘really a woman.’ I hate how this misgendering of trans people is one of the reasons why so many of us (41%) have attempted suicide, myself included. And I hate how badly cis people deteriorate our mental health just by refusing to use our pronouns and real name instead of our deadnames.

I hate all of these things, and there are so many more... but yeah, that’s what I mean when I say I hate cis people. I don’t hate cis people individually, I hate cis people because as a class they are complicit in my oppression and the way they keep upholding society contributes to our extremely high rates of mental illness, depression, and suicide. I’ve tried to kill myself too many times to count exactly because of all of these things. So yeah, call me a cisphobe if you want. I’m just a trans person that’s fed up with the transphobia, cisnormativity and cissexism that is shoved down my throat every day.

#adrián speaks #lgbtqia #transgender #transmasc #transmasculine #lgbt #lgbtqa #nonbinary #queer #Trans man #trans boy #transfeminine #transfem #trans girl #trans woman #ftm #mtf #genderfluid #fuck transmeds #cisphobia #transphobia #exorsexism #intersex #lgbtq #trans community #cissexism #trans mental health #genderqueer

[bitchapalooza]

germany or austria

Austria!

First impression

Strict. Prissy. Very mean. Orderly. Level headed. Pretty much a well put together individual.

Impression now

Somewhat still the same. Prissy of course. Strict but actually leniant with certain things— "certain things" are usually Hungary and, mostly in an exhausted manner, North Italy, Germany only when he was a child, now it's terrifying to think of this large man with the puppy eyes and pout. We all know he has an organized mindset and prides himself on it too but execution? Messy messy messy! He strikes me as the kind of person to push his dirtly laundry under his bed and wait until it actually starts to stink to wash it. Which is unfortunate when he also strickes me as the kind to like really nice matching bed spreads so now those are kinda stinky too. I actually find it very neat of him to wear glasses for the aesthetic rather than necessity! Really gives us depth into the inner workings of his mind; one of the first things a new person will notice might very likely be the face so Austria choosing glasses rather than, say a brooch or pocket watch, is very telling in what he values more. Its his looks and most importantly first impressions! A person is more likely to greet another by eye contact so what better way than to catch their eye in a good way than to wear sophisticated looking glasses? I also like that fact he wears a corset under his clothes! Its stated he's out of shape so thats why he wears a corset. Corset and glasses context really tells the audience he has body issues that hes self concious of.

Favorite moment

DONT BONK ME WITH THE HORNIE STICK YET

Okay I like this because man's got his priorites straight and I feel like it confirms my above statement "probably pushes his dirty laundry under his bed for later". HE RAN TO PRUSSIA'S LIKE THIS TO GET HIS UNDERWEAR BACK. He. He could have stayed home. Done the laundry so he WOULD have some drawers to put on. But no. This fucking loser ran all the way to Prussia's for his fucking underwear. Austria. My god. You could have been arrested for public nudity, man—

Idea for a story

While back, I wanted to explore Austria's dynamic with Kugelmugel— but in a human au context. Canon wise, I always see Austria taking Kugel in as his son rather than brother or something; its more of Kugel's choice than Austria's really. But with the story, he would be Austria's adopted son. He adopted him because he was lonely and he had previously pushed his family, friends, and even his (ex)fiance out of his life all because he wanted to perfect the violin just to get into this orchastra he idolized since childhood. He's already been recognized for his piano, now it was time for the violin to shine. But it didnt. Because he was lonely. And no one he reached out to wanted to hear a word of it. After some time, he decided to just. Adopt. Well, foster then adopt technically. But anyway, the story was supposed to be at least two chapters long. There really was no end goal though so I scrapped it. Plot seemed way too weak for my liking.

Unpopular opinion

Uuuuuuuuuuuh yeah no I'm starting not like his ignorance xjdbdj there is NO WAY he couldn't have known Vene was a boy. Like, talking canon here. No Austria knew. I will not draw or write Vene in a dress anymore unless its like him wanting to be cute by choice yknow? Like maybe he thought at first but seeing as Vene was a child, a small one at that, he probably needed supervision while bathing so as to not drown; like yeah he could swim, or if he did drown he'd wake back up in the end, but proper guardianship tells me its more appropriate for someone to supervise Vene for his safety and well being. So anyway, that task was changed between Hungary and Austria every few weeks. So yeah Austria had to know. He also probably needed assistance dressing for a while, mainly with buttons I assume but probably also got clothes backwards like any little kid would and would seek out help, which would give Austria a closer than normal look at Veneziano, how his face and jaw, altho are pretty androgynous mostly given his age, has that of a sterotypical boy's of his age groul. Point is, there was no way he had so little involvement in Vene's life while he lived with Austria. There's just no way. Austria knew. He's not THAT dumb!

Favorite relationship

Spaus hands down. Most likely because I can see it as like a one sided Statler and Waldorf act? But it changes frequently. One point, Austria could be the one sided act, but more commonly its Spain! They are an old married couple that just sorta bicker but its about the smallest of shit because THEY ARE that kinda couple that like the bickering more because like,,, they cant do it so often anymore or something? I don't know, they have old couple vibes. Austria is pretty possessive and gets jealous easily. Which doesn't pair well with how Spain kinda accidentally flirts? So he's most likely in for a scolding if Austria can't really tell if it was real or not.

Favorite headcanon

He's hopeless at being romantic. Either its too sappy or too much. He can't pull it off. By the off chance he wants to be, however, he probably begrudgingly reaches out to France, which 60% of the time is actually acceptable advice.

#ask #ask game #hetalia #hetalia austria