it's so funny (read: sad) that if bigoted fuckheads didn't insist i was a woman simply by virtue of my body at birth, i'd probably be chill with she/her pronouns in addition to he/they. if my mom didn't insist i was her daughter, i'd probably let her call me that, and we could still have a relationship.
i'm nonbinary and 'gendered' words are hypothetically meaningless, but because there are so many people who are more interested in telling me who i am rather than lovingly and curiously letting me express my own sense of self, those words carry trauma.
there's no reason a nonbinary person like myself can't be a son and a child and a daughter. there's no reason a nonbinary person like me can't go by he, they, and she.
'she' is not a slur. 'daughter' is not derogatory. 'beautiful' 'pretty' 'gorgeous' 'feminine' are not insults.
to the contrary, they're parts of language that express certain facets of a multi-faceted human existence, like mine.
and i have this sad, mournful feeling that if it weren't for unloving, condescending people, i'd probably be down to be called any of those things alongside my usual masculine/neutral terminology.
but i'd rather die than let anyone tell me what i have to be called.
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an excerpt of the newest chapter of the halfway house fic based on this past post. Enjoy :)
“Steve, come get your furry little menace! He’s chewing up my laces again,” Robin grumbled.
“Maybe if your laces are ruined, you’ll finally buy a new pair of shoes,” Steve snarked. Steve walked to the living room to find Robin attempting to tie her old Converse only to snatch back her hands every time the kitten took a swipe at the laces in question. “He’s just a baby. He wants to play.”
“He can get his own laces to play with, then. And there’s nothing wrong with my shoes. I’m not going to go buy new shoes when these are perfectly functional. And my favorite color.”
Steve scooped the kitten up even as he kept reaching for the laces and cuddled him to his chest. Steve rubbed gently behind the kitten’s ears until the kitten relaxed into tiny purrs.
“What do you think, Dustin? Should Robin get new shoes? Raise your paw if you agree with me,” Steve said. He lifted the kitten’s right paw and waved it a bit, making the kitten squirm. “See, he agrees with me.”
Robin snorted and rolled her eyes at his teasing smile. “I still can’t believe you named him Dustin.”
The kitten chose that moment to start climbing up Steve’s shirt to reach his shoulder. His tiny claws pricked at Steve’s skin through the thin fabric but they were so small, they barely hurt at all. Steve laughed as the kitten settled on his shoulder and began to mew at the top of his lungs.
“It’s not my fault he looks like a Dustin,” Steve insisted. When he brought the kitten home two days ago, Robin tried to name him something else but Steve put his foot down about it. He found the kitten, and he thought the kitten was a Dustin, so no other name was allowed.
Dustin let out another mew so loud he nearly toppled over. Steve pulled him off his shoulder with an amused huff. Dustin wriggled incessantly in his hands. Steve lost his grip on him but thankfully he had gotten him close enough to the ground by then that the fall was negligible to a cat.
“Okay, okay, we’ll play for a little while, you needy baby.”
He and Robin were waiting for payday to run to the pet store for more supplies. They were lucky that their neighbor across the hall had an old litter box that her cat had outgrown, and a couple of spare food bowls. She had even given them a few cans of wet food, cooing over the kitten all the while. Dustin, apparently, was a charming little guy. He obviously took after Steve. Robin had punched him on the arm when he said as much.
In the meantime, they were using old bits of string and a little orange ball Robin had stolen back when they worked at a mini-golf place. The kitten seemed to enjoy them well enough but Steve planned on getting him fancier playthings and some catnip. He rolled the ball across the floor and the kitten chased after it. He pounced on it, wobbly, which sent the ball rolling again for another chase. Steve laughed. Robin giggled along with him.
“He’s lucky he’s adorable. Otherwise we’d be having problems, him and I,” Robin said with a grin. Her mischievous demeanor softened slightly. “I’m glad you found him, you big old softie. Now you can stop moping so much.”
Steve ducked away when she reached to ruffle his hair.
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said, lightheartedly. “Maybe if I do a good job with him, someone will finally let me have a kid.”
The kitten had apparently gotten bored of the ball and was attempting to climb up the back of the couch. Steve quickly grabbed him so he would damage the upholstery. He booped the kitten’s nose.
“What do you think, baby? Will I be a good dad? Be honest.”
Dustin grabbed his finger and gnawed at it while making the most precious sounds. A purring mew. Steve’s heart melted; though from what he had read, he really shouldn’t let Dustin get accustomed to using his hands as playthings.
Steve resigned himself to losing half his paycheck to cat toys.
Continue on Ao3
ps: i do not do reader tag lists or whatever those things are called. i tag all my writing with 'trensu tells stories' so please just follow that tag if you wanna keep up with my stuff, thank you
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HiMERU was fuming when he walked into the church. His brother was just sitting here this whole time, not even bothering to look for him or do anything useful? HiMERU needed to stay calm. His fists were clenched at his side. He walked up to Tatsumi Kazehaya and asked him if he had been keeping Kaname against his will, which was met with a negative response. Kaname had stayed of his own free will. I would never force someone to stay, Tatsumi said.
HiMERU stormed over to his brother seated in one of the pews next to Amagi’s younger brother and the other child he couldn’t be bothered to learn the name of and grabbed him by the wrist. Let’s go, there’s no reason for you to stay here. Kaname resisted, though HiMERU was stronger and continued walking out to where Rinne, Niki and Kohaku were sitting outside.
Onii-chan I can’t leave. That priest said he wasn’t forcing you to stay so we’re going. He isn’t but--onii-chan please just listen--
HiMERU took one step outside the chapel, Kaname’s hand breaching the doorway, still in his grasp. It suddenly felt…
He looked down and saw it begin to rot away.
I can’t leave, Onii-chan.
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I was just about to type something about how occasionally I manage to find a "cool zone" of ego where nothing can make me feel really bad about myself, but I also have a realistic sense of my own importance/relevance/competence and an ability to laugh at my mistakes. I was going to frame this as a happy medium.
Then I realized that actually, being insecure and prone to feeling bad about myself also tends to make me a lot more prone to bouts of arrogance or grandiosity or not being able to laugh at (or own up to) my mistakes because they feel like a super big deal, humiliating and potentially life or relationship or "career" ruining. Just as outsize feelings of "I'm the worst person in the world" and "everything's always my fault" are self-obsession and grandiosity in disguise, I think a lot of problems we often attribute to people thinking too highly of themselves or being too confident/secure in their abilities and ideas are actually, or at least can be, insecurity and self-hatred in disguise.
I dunno, man. Liking yourself and valuing yourself and seeing yourself as a lovable person is good. I don't think there's actually much, if any, danger that you'll accidentally like yourself too much and thereby cause problems. I think the more you like yourself, the easier it is to be considerate towards other people and act in accordance with what you value and not freak out every time you make a mistake or discover you were wrong about something or get told to change some of your behavior.
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