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#It might be because my gender is quite fluid

gatheringbones · 7 months

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[“When I first came out as a lesbian in 1971, identity politics were so pervasive that this modality didn’t even have a name; it was simply the sea in which every queer sank or swam. One of the key assumptions of identity politics is that we can reveal in one grand social drama of coming out the absolute inner core of truth that makes up one’s “real self.” Coming out is seen as a process like peeling away the layers of an onion or the petals of an artichoke. Identity politics also assumes that your political allies will have to be people who share your identity because nobody else could understand your oppression or really be committed to fighting it; that people who share some aspects of your sexuality but not others are either afraid to come out or traitors to the cause; that it’s not possible for someone to change the way they label themselves without being dishonest or cowardly.

Now I see queer politics quite differently. I know from personal experience that I can’t trust somebody just because their sexual preferences or their gender identity resembles my own. I know we can make allies who are indignant about injustice even if it does not impinge directly upon their own lives. I see coming out as a lifelong process that proceeds as I become ready to understand and accept aspects of myself which bear lessons I need to learn at different points in my life. Each new coming out does not recreate me as a whole new person; I think some people view it this way, but this is crazy-making and too compartmentalized for me. It’s more like being able to see each and every spoke of the wheel that makes up my being, or like opening up and furnishing another new room of my soul.

I wonder what coming out would be like if we were not forced into these defensive positions of tribal loyalty and us-them thinking. What if we could say to a friend who was embarking on a new coming out, “I love you, and so I must also love this new aspect of yourself. Because I care about you I want to know more about it. Let’s both learn from this.” Instead, what usually happens is a great deal of indignation, betrayal, and rejection. I think this is because a person who is coming out threatens the identities of former acquaintances, partners, and coworkers. If someone else’s identity can be fluid or change radically, it threatens the boundaries around our own sense of self. And if someone can flout group norms enough to apply for membership in another group, we often feel so devalued that we hurry to excommunicate that person. This speaks to our own discomfort with the group rules. The message is: I have put up with this crap for the sake of group membership, and if you won’t continue to do the same thing, you have to be punished.

We seem to have forgotten that the coming-out process is brought into being by stigma. Without sexual oppression, coming out would be an entirely different process. In its present form, coming out is reactive. While it is brave and good to say “No” to the Judeo-Christian “Thou Shalt Nots,” we have allowed our imaginations to be drawn and quartered by puritans. I believe that most of the divisions between human sexual preferences and gender identities are artificial. We will never know how diverse or complex our needs in these realms might be until we are free of the threat of the thrown rock, prison cell, lost job, name-calling, shunning, and forced psychiatric “treatment.”

I do not think human beings were meant to live in hostile, fragmented enemy camps, forever divided by suspicion and prejudice. If coming out has not taught us enough compassion to see past these divisions, and at least catch a vague glimpse of a more unified world, what is the use of coming out at all? I have told this story, not to say that anybody else should follow me or imitate me, but to encourage everyone to keep an open mind and an open heart when change occurs. The person who needs tolerance and compassion during a major transformation may be your best friend, your lover, or your very self. Bright blessings to you on the difficult and amazing path of life.”]

patrick califa, from layers of the onion, spokes of the wheel, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

#pat califa #bi literature #lesbian literature #trans literature #history stuff

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clover-color · 2 months

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Can you introduce your OC?

Omg I wait for question like 300 year💀

Aham! Of course !

My first OC is name "YUU"

At first I was going to make him a arrogant and scheming character, like a male version of Cindy...But now he looked like just a sad puppy when Penny wasn't paying attention.

Of course I like Penny so I made him oc x canon, And he has a soft spot for Penny

Personality (Yuu): He is a very arrogant and carefree child. He doesn't care about other people's feelings, except for girls he is especially kind or people he is close to but he still acts sly.

(But with Penny he was just like a puppy waiting for its owner, he was so kind to Penny that all his friends were surprised.)

My 2 and 3 OC is name "TINA" and "TINY"

At first I only made Tina but for some reason I suddenly wanted to make twins for her so Tiny came.

1 crybaby and 1 cocky (For others, it might be like that, but they love each other very much🥰)

Personality (Tina): She is initially a timid child, although her parents are not cruel people and her older brother is very nice, making her sensitive to the outside world.

Personality (Tiny): But for Tiny, this is because his parents are too spoiled and kind, making him a cocky kid. Even though he wears glasses and looks like Monty, he's a stupid kid. He's just a cocky kid, but he loves his sibling very much.

My 4 OC is name "Christiana" or "Chris"

Chris or Christina are quite friendly people and can get along with everyone. They don't really care if the other person hates them or not, sometimes too kind. The wounds received were therefore caused by being attacked and They didn't have any problems or sue the teacher.

They're gender fluid characters but they're definitely female from birth, but I'm not sure if they'd be transgender or not.

Personality (Chris): That being said, they are very kind. They don't care about people who hurt them, but they would care more if others hurt their close friends. Like Tina, however, she is a bit of a child who can't keep up with others

And my last OC's name is Adonis which means god

You know that even though I say he's a cute kid, you know that's not true. Actually, I've wanted to create a character like this for a long time and I'm quite satisfied.

You can easily guess what kind of person he is^^

Personality (Adonis): He is a kind, cheerful person who always talks to people with a smile and does not get angry when someone is rude to him, He clearly shows gentleness and gentleness towards women, which makes Cindy like him more than she ever liked Yuu.

Personality (Adonis): He hates everyone, He views everyone as just a worm, doesn't even care if the other person is a girl or a guy. If messes with someone he likes, he's ready to punch them in the face every time. Including Chris, they was once punched by him, but he asked them not to tell someone else with a cute face (And you know that Chris can be soft-hearted)

But everyone likes him because no one knows his true personality

If you've read this far, you're a very sweet person🥺 Let me kiss you now.

If you have any questions, you can ask. I will be very happy to answer!

#my art #kindergarten 2 #kindergarten game #kindergarten au #kindergarten fanart #kindergarten oc #my oc #kindergarten yuu #kindergarten Chris #kindergarten tiny #kindergarten tina #kindergarten adonis

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our-trans-youth-experience · 2 months

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Can you give me some advice as I'm questioning my gender yet again.

So basically, I'm an AFAB teenager, and up until about 8 I went with girl [and was very feminine], then 8 til around a year or two ago, I didn't really care cause it just didn't matter to me. Then I identified as demigirl, then genderfluid, and now nonbinary, and I was just considering starting to use he/they pronouns when I started to get stressed about gender. I feel dysphoria sometimes, and I was so upset when I got my period and stuff, though I don't know if that was just not wanting to grow up. I don' understand women, or why you'd want to be one, but occasionally I feel more fem, but I don't want to be a girl. If I could have been born a boy I would've, and if I ever think into the future, I'm only happy if I think of being a man. Sometimes i don't feel dysphoric saying 'I am a woman' and sometimes [usually] that feels so wrong and stresses me out. IDK,I'll probably just stick to being non-binary, but I also want to be a man, and I wish that I'd been born one. Also,i've been quite depressed lately, and I've hated myself since I was 11, however, because I only started questioning my gender a year or two later,it can't really be connected to that, can it?

Hope you're doing good, and thank you for taking the time to do this.👍

Hey there anon, thanks for sharing your experience!

I don't know your brain so I can't tell you a specific label, but I can try give you some possibilities. From what I've understood, you are NOT a girl but occasionally feel more feminine, you feel non binary and also male at the same time.

Have you heard of bigender before? One of my friends is a bigender guy, meaning that he has two genders (male and non-binary).

Another one of my friends is aboy (agender boy) which means that it doesn't have a gender but wants to be perceived as a boy.

You could be a demiboy (someone who partially identifies as a boy), or genderfaun (fluid between multiple genders, but never female/feminine)

Or you might be like me! I'm a transmasc person. This means that I am a very masculine non-binary person, but not male. I use masculine and neutral terms, but obviously that is completely up to you.

About your period, being upset about your period definitely counts as dysphoria, you are not just afraid of growing up. If having a menstrual cycle becomes too distressing for you and you are in a situation that allows you to do so, I'd recommend that you look into ways to stop your period.

Hope this all helps a little, happy gender hunting!

#our trans youth experience #trans #trans youth #transgender #trans kids #enby #nonbinary #transmasc #queer #trans boy #genderfluid #gender identity #gender stuff #trans stuff #gender dysphoria #protect trans lives #protect trans rights #protect trans kids #pronouns

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typically-untypical · 6 months

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Ballet and Parkour

AU: Dance

CW: Remus being sexual but nothing over the top

WC: 1,307

Date: 12/9/2023 (Still playing catch up!)

"Don't get me wrong double dee," Remus whined, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend's shoulder. "You look hot in that leotard, but did you really have to wear it during today's practice? You were all over Lewis and I wanted to pull his spine out through his throat." The taller man made a grumpy groan, flailing his other hand about as they walked slowly down the street.

"And what if I said I was interested in Lewis? Would you try to stop me?" Remus stopped walking, allowing Janus to take a few steps in front of him before turning around. As always he had that cocky ass smirk on his face and it relaxed Remus a bit.

"You're not an idiot. If you were suddenly interested in that prick, I'd get your head checked for damage. You're the one who saw through his bullshit the first time. You called out what he was doing was wrong and inappropriate. If you suddenly fell for him, I'd eat my pointe shoes."

Janus snorted, "You'd eat your pointe shoes on a dare, that isn't very convincing. I swear, didn't you attempt to confuse one of the younger dancers, lying to them about how the only proper way to break in your shoes was to boil them with salt? She almost believed you too, poor girl."

"First off, she should know not to trust a man," Remus giggled, "But second, I wouldn't have actually let her do it. Those fuckers are expensive and I might have money to burn but I know not everyone does."

"So you've told me." Janus took a step back, obviously trying to lead Remus forward. "Why do you insist on taking roles that would normally require pointe shoes anyway. I've gotten away with never wearing them in our troupe."

"Easy, fucking over the gender binary," Remus stated, but realized pretty quickly that Janus wasn't listening. His eyes had that far off look he got when something had caught his attention. Remus stepped forward to look down the alley they were passing by. His jaw dropped. Some dude was practicing parkour in rigorous repetition. He jumped from trashcan to fire escape in a singular fluid movement, but the part that had most likely caught Janus' attention was the fluidity of his mid air spin. He threw his body with the force of a professional, spinning just enough to catch the fire escape ladder before letting it go. He reset, and jumped again. Janus had always been a sucker for technique. Remus, however, was always dazzled by strength, and those muscles were sculpted.

"Excuse me," Came a deep voice that snapped both of them out of their thoughts. "It is my understanding that it's considered rude to stare at people, and also that people normally are stared at due to committing some sort of social faux pa. Would you please enlighten me if I have stepped out of social bounds, or if you have?" It almost sounded accusatory but with room for explanation.

Remus felt his whole body blush and he immediately wanted to kiss the SAT words out of that man's mouth. Fuck, this was how Janus had won him over. What was with hot strong men?!

"Apologies, it's the two of us who shouldn't have stared, but we aren't staring due to a social faux pa. We're staring because of your talent."

"And your hot ass!" Remus chimed in, immediately getting a glare from Janus. He knew he was in trouble now but he just hadn't been able to help it. The man was hot, what was wrong with saying that? He wasn't going to go into further detail, normally it was best to let Janus do the talking. He gave his boyfriend a sheepish, barely apologetic grin, and then he heard the laughing.

Their new parkour friend was holding his hand over his mouth as if to try to stifle his joy. "A-apologies, I didn't mean to laugh, however, I've never met someone quite so blunt. It's strange to be hit on by strangers but I do appreciate the honesty." He walked over to the two of them, holding out his hand. "My name is Logan and my skill comes from consistent practice. Are you two also traceurs? I would much appreciate someone I can discuss technique with?"

Janus took his hand first, shaking firmly. He wasn’t sure what word Logan had just used by he knew Parkour when he saw it and decided just to play off that. Hopefully the other man wouldn’t notice and he could look up the word later. "Parkour's not our preferred form of exercise, however we can appreciate talent when we see it, and some of your skills would translate well with what we do." Not perfectly, there was always a learning curve when it came to switching sports or anything of that nature but Remus would be willing to learn.

"If not parkour then where do your interests lie?" He tilted his head in such a cute way. Remus had to grab Janus' hand to make sure he didn't go after Logan right in that moment. He knew he could be a lot sometimes, but he liked being true to himself, and sometimes that meant throwing caution to the wind. This probably wasn't one of those times.

"Ballet," Janus answered, "And it is rare to see someone pull off a mid air twist with that much consistency and fluidity. Especially someone who isn't a dancer." He returned Logan's smile and Remus started to pull a bit at Janus' hand. It was a stim, of sorts, anything to prevent him from running his mouth and ruining a potential friendship with this man. "Apologies, it seems my boyfriend needs my attention."

"Oh, boyfriend?" Logan asked, and the air around him shifted. No, no, no, no, no. That wouldn't do. Remus didn't hold himself back.

"Non exclusive. The two of us are those kinky polyamorous types." He cackled but if the squeeze from Janus was any indication it wasn't super convincing.

"Not how I would phrase it," Janus said with a sigh, "But yes, we are polyamorous. However, I think it's far more important that we're interested in seeing how else you can apply that talent. Would you be interested in joining us for a practice session? We would be amiable to hearing about your technique if you would be amiable to a few questions." Cool as always, he was able to ask Logan out on a date without even batting an eye.

"Very well," Logan replied, just as cool, just as calm. "However, I would appreciate if you would leave me for the time being, after we exchange numbers. You are, after all, blocking the exit to this alley."

"True," Janus said, pulling out a pen, reaching out for Logan's hand again. "But you've already proven to us that us standing here wouldn't be a hindrance to your escape. That is what intrigued us after all."

Logan nodded in response, allowing Janus to write down his number. "That is also true, however, perception is very important, is it not?"

"It is," Janus agreed, "So make sure to wear something comfortable for our practice session. The two of us would both like to see your skill for ourselves."

With everything agreed upon, Janus and Remus left, making their way a full block before either broke down.

"Jannie, he was so hot! Gods I hope he is interested because I am interested." They were still holding hands and Remus was swinging about, desperate to get rid of the energy he had bottled up.

"Me too, Re, me too, but we'll just have to wait and see." Remus nodded, but Janus had that look on his face like he knew something Remus didn't. Gods he hoped Janus had a plan up his sleeve.

Tag List: @simplestoryteller @fantasticfangirl21 @joylessnightsky @glacierruler @tsspromptmonth

#TSS Rare Gifts Event 2023 #Untypical Creations #Sanders Sides #Sanders Side fic #Fanfic #Remus Sanders #Janus Sanders #Logan Sanders #Fluff #intruloceit #pre relationship

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littleeyesofpallas · 1 year

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Bleach’s Issue with Queer characters (2/3)

...

Dordonii might seem like a weird one to point out here, compared to some of the more overt examples, but I think he had a fairly evident queer codedness to him. His more overwhelming quality was his kind of Spanish flair, what with the tap shoes and Flamenco-esque poses and gestures, the devil horns in his greased hair and on his mask shard, and his little Mephistopheles mustache and beard. But the ear ring, and Flamenco adjacent sex appeal mixed with the way he kind of baby talks Ichigo strikes me as contributing to a certain daddy-ish gay character type. Also, I’ve never been 100% sure that it’s not just crosshatching, but I’ve always read it as some chest hair peaking out from his low v-neck. But I feel like that assessment needs some qualifying context...

Western sensibilities tend to read effeminate features on men as a chief indicator of homosexuality, Japan has never been quite as narrowly focused with its own gay stereotypes. There is definitely a particular character type in anime and manga that pins the preening vanity of smooth faced and long haired effeminate men on homosexuality, but it’s not really the go-to. Tracing back to media trends of the 1970s the long haired, smooth chested pretty boy (even the gay ones) very much became the domain of female audiences and creators, where as the prevailing trends of gay portrayals by and for men actually settled more firmly on the hairy and muscular image that bara is associated with now. I'm not about to do a whole big breakdown of the japanese gay subculture behind the bara thing, because that deserves more time and attentio that i can give it here, but you've got a keyword to work with now, so I encourage you to do a little googling yourself.

Also he has his right ear is pierced? I don't know if this was ever a thing in Japan, but in America it became kind of a wide spread myth(?) Originally it actually was a functioning kind of code within the queer community in the 1960s and 70s, but after it became somewhat more generally well known the practice more or less stopped, for pretty obvious practical reasons... but weirdly enough by the sheer power of stupid homophobia, straight people continued to scrutinize and be paranoid of men with pierced ears for decades following. Again, though, I have no idea if either the original intent or the misinformation of that trend was ever anything that had any kind of Japanese presence...

Anyway... What I’m getting at is Dordonii feels very queer coded to me, just not in ways that everyone picks up on. But speaking of muscular hairy gays... Let’s talk about an elephant in the room:

Charlotte Chuhlhourne:

Obviously, Kubo doesn’t quite have the tact to make use of queer identities in a totally respectful way, so it’s hard to tell how much is attributable to Kubo making a character exactly as they appear, and what could be argued to be a character’s theoretical self-identifying terms filtered through Kubo’s limited vernacular. But the word to know here is Okama[オカマ], which has traditionally referred to gay, AMAB transvestites. Obvious stumbling point here is that prior to more widely codified and accepted trans identities this term applied to both transwoman and drag queens.

Granted until fairly recently(by which I mean within the relatively short spand my own lifetime) even the queer community at large didn’t always differentiate the two very well; presentation was presentation, the circumstances for it and the specificities of achieving it were personal choices, not taxonomical crossroads; some moonlit as queens and that was it, others would’ve lived as women and never walked a show in their life if that had been a practical option, others still were happily gender fluid, but the scene had one look and one label. We made due with what we had.

Anyway... point being that Charlotte’s character is specifically a play into an Okama stereotype. That is to say, the archetypal look of Okama in Japanese media for many years has been a middle aged, square jawed, often broad or even muscular, drag queen. Although Charlotte doesn’t actually have one, they are also frequently shown with a muzzle of stubble growing in. Despite what you might think about jabs at the beard as a masculine feature betraying their feminine presentation, it’s actually not (usually) the reason...

The image comes out of Japan’s gay bar scene --in Tokyo, Shinjuku-Nichoume in particular-- which has long been a cultural centerpiece of Japan’s gay culture. The larger Shinjuku ward as as whole is itself a commercial district. So, to the general public who didn’t have any interaction with gay culture itself, the small glimpse they had was from the crossing paths of salarymen commuting into work as straggler okama headed home from the bars the morning after, still in drag and makeup but with unshaven stubble growing in after a long night.

(Also, just a side note on this, but if you’ve ever seen an older (usually bigger) woman with a deep, brassy voice in kind of sultry night attire at a bar referred to as “Mama,” it’s because that’s the owner of a okama bar. She’s not literally anyone’s mother, she’s the defacto den-mother of sorts for the patrons of her bar.)

It’s still definitely not a flattering portrayal, but it’s one with a very specific history that doesn’t communicate to Western audiences at all. But there is a certain strangeness to how the Japanese handle this, comparatively. While Western rhetoric has its hangups with moralist preaching and bitching and moaning about “degeneracy” and “deviancy,” those judgments just aren’t baked into Japanese culture in quite the same way. In fact, while most of these okama caricatures by and for cishetero creators/audiences are definitely not what anyone would call “good” representation, they do lack a certain expected malice. Sure, flamboyant bafoonery is a constant in exploitation of gay culture on either side of the Pacific, but where as the West uses this as a means to disarm gay men --to make them non threatening, or to rationalize not taking them seriously-- anime manga and even videogames tend to fixate on the curiosity of it.

(although one enduring, generally positive case of this that actually seems to fly super under western audience’s radars are the great fairys in Zelda. which have maintained their extremely obvious dragqueen inspired look since OoT)

One of the first encounters with the okama charactertype that I only learned to identify looooong after the fact is the Magypsies (haha oh boy that localized choice of slur...) in Earthbound. On the one hand they were treated as a bizarre spectacle and literally not human, but they were magical and benevolent and a little comical but not in the way where they were relegated to being the punchline of a joke and nothing else. And I've found over the years that that tends to be the tone of these kinds of characters.

Another very similar case of this is Ivankov in One Piece, the Kamabakka kingdom Okama and Newkama, including Bonclay/Mr.2. (His "okama way" gimmick being a play on the hardboiled gritty actionhero cliche of a "man's way.") Where on the one hand, it’s a disgusting, tacky use of the familiar okama cliches, but also their very existence as okama is painted as the basis of their unique form of super power? Really, it’s just so wildly divorced from reality that it’s hard to even call it “representation,” harmful or otherwise... Still, in impossibly poor taste based on optics alone, though.

This all is not to try and sweep under the rug that these are still ultimately problematic stereotypes and caricatures to have to debrief each new generation of viewer on just to avoid the slippery slope of total misinterpretation, but I've noticed that there is a distinct difference in how that tone is read. The overwhelming attitude I see from these creators is that these long standing cliches are how okama look and act, but that it makes them interesting or funny, and yes “other,” but rarely lesser. Obviously that's still rooted deeply in ignorance on part of these non-queer creators, but you can see how it lacks the teeth that the western equivalent has, where such caricatures are explicitly there to defame and demonize, and I think that’s an important distinction to make.

(And let’s not even get into the issue of fake “woke” white people struggling to wrap their tiny brains around the idea of another culture by framing it as that culture’s unique idiosyncrasies as if they’re just failed attempts at conforming to white anglo-centric western values, because THAT is a whole other can of worms...)

To maybe put this into some better perspective here, Tier Harribel has blond hair and tan skin, and given what the Arrancar are and how they live she is presumably naturally dark skinned, and naturally blonde. But her design is clearly based on gyaru/gal (or possibly ganguro) fashion, which makes use of fake tans and bleached hair. She looks the way she does because she's made to look like that aesthetic, but looking the way she doesn't doesn't imply she bleaches and tans(presumably those colors are both natural on her in-world).

That same relationship of image inspiring image while being divorced from meaning is just kind of how Kubo makes these kinds of aesthetic decisions, all across the board, problematic or not. But of course no one really cares about it when it’s a weird recontextualization of the gal aesthetic because no one’s offended on their behalf.

And in general, I think a lot of these things are just so outside the Western perspective that even when they definitely are problematic, some people can’t even begin to grasp what about it is, and end up fabricating just nonsense arguments against it to rationalize a kneejerk kind of discomfort and confusion over the subject...

Anyway... having said all that, the next one actually IS a huge problem...

[1][2][3]

#bleach meta #bleach #KUBO TITE #Dordoni Alessandro Del Socaccio #Charlotte Chuhlhourne #now that its posted #the more i look over this the more i want to edit it #but if i start it'll quickly become just a totally different post #its not even that im looking to correct the basic points being made #so much as i just hate the voice #but then thats always my beef with my own writing #i really hate the way i worded the whole okama bit though #it feels like it doesnt really get the point across #oh well....

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qqueenofhades · 1 year

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Genuinely hope this isn't too weird or personal or a rant but here goes

Recently I've been having a bit of a sexuality crisis and I don't know what's going on. I'm a cis woman and I've never had any interest in men at all for my entire life and knew I wanted to be with a woman, I was completely confident I was gay because I just never felt anything toward men that I do women. But recently I have this one male friend who I'm very good friends with and he recently asked me out on a date. I've known him for a while and looking back, it's embarrassingly obvious that I had a crush. Like I quite literally described it as a platonic crush (spoiler alert: it was not platonic) to one of my friends and compared it to the exact same feelings as a romantic one and I would not shut up about him and how he's an amazing, wonderful person, which he absolutely is.

And I've had crushes on women before which was probably why I was... in denial, for lack of a better phrase? And I didn't want to ruin anything I had with him as a friendship, I had no idea how I felt, and apparently every single one of our mutual friends realized that something was up except for me. He also knows I'm some flavor of not-straight even if I've never explicitly been "hi I'm a lesbian" just because it's never come up in conversation and he's cool with that, even if he's straight himself. But he's such a nice and amazing person and I'm really excited for whatever might happen and I feel like even if it doesn't work out romantically he'd still be a great friend.

I never had the "oh my god am I gay" sexuality crisis, I was just always gay and confident in that about myself, and to make things even worse, I'm not publicly out but basically all my friends do know that I thought I was lesbian and it's actually kinda hard trying to be like "yeah I thought I was gay too, apparently I'm straighter than I thought" but this is an incredibly recent development, I still feel more comfortable with a lesbian label than bi or pan or anything but I'm completely and hopelessly attracted romantically to a man and I feel like I've lost the right to use that label as someone who is apparently NOT exclusively attracted to women when up until about a week ago, I spent my entire life thinking I was. And everything that's going on all of a sudden is just weird and confusing and frustrating and there's a lot of good stuff and a lot of not-so-good stuff all associated with this.

So I dunno, if you have any sort of advice or anything to say, I'm not sure, I just feel like I need to talk about this somehow and try to figure out who I am and how I'm feeling, and this is really hard

Welp. Oh honey. I feel bad that instead of being able to just enjoy the possibility of a new romance with a great person, you have to worry about whether you're the "right" kind of queer or whether you "can't" identify as a lesbian anymore or all of this. I can definitely see the rhetorical roots of what's worrying you, and especially the way it is viciously propagated in online queer spaces, so yeah.

First of all, and most important: absolutely nobody, NOBODY, in the entire world gets to tell you which label you should or should not use, or try to strip it from you. I know the younger queer community in general is INCREDIBLY fond of restrictive gatekeeping, attempting to devise micro-labels for everything, and insisting that you have to be Just One Thing and Not Another, but it's... not true. It's not that you're "straighter than you thought" (which in this framework is automatically pejorative/less worthy than being "properly gay"), it's just that sexuality is fluid, the queer experience is fluid, and you've found someone that you're attracted to regardless of gender -- which is the whole concept of queer sexuality in a nutshell. If any of your friends want to give you grief or insist that you're a Bad Lesbian or whatever, I cordially invite them to take a nice perambulation into the nearest body of water. It is NOT THEIR BUSINESS and if they want to shame you for discovering something new about yourself, rather than support you, then fuck 'em. I am so serious. If you're still most comfortable identifying as a lesbian, that's what you are! Over time, you might decide to move to more of a bi/pan label, or just "queer," or whatever else. Or you may not. Either one is totally fine.

Secondly, this feeling has its roots in the radfem ideology of the 1970s, which has been repackaged, reheated, and distributed in TERF spaces today, and obviously fuck TERFs, we don't welcome TERFs or anything they think about in this space, so yeah. The idea was that women who had any kind of romantic or sexual attraction to men at all were "inferior," that "gold star lesbians" only ever had sex with/romantic relationships with women, and that any queer woman/wlw who had any kind of attraction to men was just obliged by the patriarchy to pretend that they did. In other words, bisexual women were just "lesbians in waiting" who were deluding themselves about wanting men at all, sexual contact with men made you "impure" or less "worthy," and all kinds of other gross things. This is obviously a) wrong, b) hella biphobic, c) and still harmfully prevalent in modern TERF spaces, which do their utmost to convince the younger queer generations that this is the "only right way" to do it. Which, since being queer is all about breaking singular paradigms and embracing fluidity, is total nonsense. It's why they hate the word "queer" itself and try to convince people that it's the "q-slur," because it's too deliberately broad, non-determinative, and inclusive.

Take me for example: as a younger person, I first experienced attraction to/romantic interest in men, so I assumed (HA) that I was straight, and totally ignored the part where I also had those feelings about women. (The amount of "I bet straight women also have these thoughts!" that I did was, uh, a lot.) It wasn't until my late 20s that I consciously acknowledged it and went uh hey, super not straight here, so I began identifying as bisexual. Now in my mid-thirties, when I'm only attracted to women in real life, mostly want to spend time with women, and would only think about marrying a woman, I've decided that "lesbian" is probably the best term for me. But I still do experience attraction to men from time to time! Usually a man that I have no chance of ever actually meeting or having a relationship with; i.e. blorbo from my shows or something like that, and when the hyperfixation fades, the attraction often (if not always) does as well. So maybe there's an element of knowing that I WON'T actually have to do anything about it that plays into it. Who knows. The point is, I still call myself a lesbian, because it's what makes the most sense for my orientation as I experience it, and I do not have to drum myself out of using this label because I still sometimes find men attractive. There are a lot of people in the world! There are a lot of experiences! There is no one RIGHT way to be LGBTQ, and anyone telling and/or insisting that there is, and that you should be shamed if you don't do it exactly in their narrow-minded, bigoted way, should safely and swiftly be completely ignored.

Anyway: you should feel absolutely free to pursue this relationship, you should feel absolutely free to call yourself whatever you damn well please, and if that evolves over time, great! If it doesn't, also great! You alone know who you are and have the most right to define your identity and experience, and anyone who would give you grief over it is definitely, DEFINITELY not worth the time of day.

#anonymous #ask

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self-indulgent-paw-patrol · 11 days

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Since it's Pride Month, do you have any LGBT headcanons for the pups? I personally headcanon Zuma as either gender fluid or non-binary

Nnnnngh I don't like talking about it out in the open because I don't want people coming at me feeling offended or whatever BECAUSE OF FICTIONAL CHARACTERS--

I'll put it under the cut. No one needs to read this if you don't want to. And whoever comes at me in a disrespectful manner, I'll just delete the ask. Not wasting my time.

PERSONALLY...

I don't think Zuma ever gave it any thought at all XD He simply exists.

Chase gives me a bi-curious vibe. Y'know, the straight one who's also got their attention on someone of the same gender and is now confused/curious about it, still finding out. Or not trying at all, but the curiosity is there, like a "what if...?"

I don't really remember what I thought of the others but I think they're all cis. I already got "trauma" from the error in the Brazilian dub making Marshall and Zuma be females for over two seasons and only then realizing their mistake and remaking the dub to fix that. Thanks to that, now I need to put up with this guy who quit watching the show once the dub fixed their mistake because he liked those two pups as girls and refused to accept they have ALWAYS been boys in the original. He keeps referring to them as she/her, EVERY SINGLE TIME we talk about Paw Patrol. It pisses me off but I know that's what he wants so I refuse to show it.

It's no secret I ship Rocky and Zuma, so they might fall somewhere in the gay, bi or pan area.

I didn't give much thought into the others ever about this. Whatever I thought before, I already forgot. This isn't something I think much about, y'know? Like, it doesn't matter to me WHAT they are, I love these characters for WHO they are. And since I don't have that many ships in this show, I only think about these things when I'm going to ship someone or if it's made canon XD

Also just for the final shot, Chase is bi-curious because of Marshall and Rocky aushaushasuhaushausa

#Sorry I don't have much about it #cottoncandyswirl828 #Thanks for the ask!!#Happy Pride 🌈#Pride Month #Paw Patrol #Paw Patrol Headcanons

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that-stone-butch · 5 months

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for me, i know multiple bi/pan lesbians who identify that way because they are systems with very fluid identities, so their system as a whole identifies that way. i definitely understand everything you said about the labels being self-contradictory and stuff but i also think some people’s existence is kind of inherently self-contradictory to the outside world? people also say he/him lesbians, lesboys, etc. are self-contradictory, but sometimes what is viewed by others as self-contradictory is just someone not quite fitting into predominant social categories, like with systems. i also think labels are always changing and the difference between bisexuality and lesbianism is a newer one and how we handle the overlap might change again. idk i just think categories will always be subverted and shifted and fluid in a community that is entirely people who don’t fit into the dominant prescribed social categories

yeah, my issues with bi lesbians have been 0% directed at systems and bigender/multigender people.

i am hesitant to speak much on systems, as i do not have enough experience to be confident that the language i use would be inoffensive and respectful. and obviously among people who are of multiple genders/sexualities, there's gonna be some who are going to mix labels or use multiple labels, and i think that's great. i think that's a good thing.

#ask #anonymous

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otterlyfoolish · 5 months

Text

Eat Crow

(Zombieman x GN!Reader)

Warnings: Mentioned Human Experimentation, Animal Death, Abandonment, Implied Child Abuse/Neglect, Swearing, Blood & gore (come on this is ZM), self-harm (ZM does some reckless things), there's probably other things in here that I can't think of right now so if you're particularly sensitive maybe you should just avoid this,

Tags: Pining, borderline romance, strangers to friends, maybe lovers (in the future), Reader is starved for any kind of companionship, Unstoppable force & Immovable object, oneshot, angst, comfort (very barely), open-ended ending, so much build-up for a fucking oneshot, not edited so sorry

Word count: 11k

Summary:

Zombieman had what he thought was a simple case: "Find the source of the toxins in the assigned area."

One of his specialities is investigating contaminated or toxic areas - places that only robots or cyborgs could reach, areas where organic matter struggled to make it out alive. Other heroes would be dispatched to a monster infestation, and he would be sent to the local ghost town. This was fine to him - he would describe himself as more of an investigator than a hero anyways. So, in one way, this task was like no other.

In another way, he's never seen a case as peculiar as this. A product of human experimentation, just like him. He's never really had a case like this before. Curiously, they didn't seem to want to admit it. He can't blame them for their decision either - especially not after he found out some reasons why. And it's not like he could have found out the normal way - after all, what's considered poisonous to a dead man?

So, he couldn't quite complete his investigation - at that point, he couldn't really confirm or deny his suspicions. That is until he saw their touch wilt a crow's life within seconds.

...Well, the crow is already dead. You just have to eat it now.

-----

Ao3 Link here, if you prefer reading there!

A/N: I'm mostly writing this to ward off my impulses for the other idea I have for ZM - I can't start another multi chapter fic on him when I've not even finished the other one I'm writing right now... (TBH if I just dedicated my time writing this into that, I might have been able to finish it... Uhhh I just won't think about that)

I've kept this on the drafts so long, but now I've finally vomited it out (I ran it through a spell checker, not even edited) - I hope that it's coherent because I struggle editing so much, and I don't know if I have it in me to make it more articulate than it is... Uhhh story isn't fluid sorry (>>_>>)

But if I used the wrong pronouns for the Reader (anything that's not they/them) please feel free to point it out since it is supposed to be Gender-Neutral!

---

"QUARANTINED AREA AHEAD"

"TOXIC WASTE NEARBY"

"LEAVE NOW"

The danger signs were littered everywhere.

From the very moment he even came near the location - even miles away, he was warned not to approach. As he got closer, the signs and fences only increased in frequency. Just a few caution signs at first, illustrated by the humble exclamation mark. Then the potentially comedic skull and bones - pirates would be overjoyed at the sight of so many of them. And finally the unnerving biohazard symbol appears. He's never liked the look of it - maybe because he doesn't understand what it was actually supposed to be, or maybe it reminded him too much of Dr. Genus' lab - the same symbols were also hung up everywhere, the scientist liked to be organised after all.

The final hurdle was in sight now - a chain-linked fence with barbed wires that had rust collecting on the bright red sign that hung brazenly on the door.

"DANGER: YOUR LIFE IS AT RISK FROM THIS POINT FORWARD"

He nodded at the final warning as if letting the inanimate object know that he acknowledges the danger, then swung his axe against the metal lock, easily snapping it in half. Time must have also wore the lock down, helping the process of decay because it behaved far too flimsy.

If most people showed me as much concern as these signs did, then I would be out of a job.

He pushes on the door, the hinges on the door creak loudly as if it was doing a drum roll for his demise. As he walks through, he's careful to shut the door behind him and lock it with another one - the one he brought in preparation for this. As he does so, he notices that the key for it must have fallen out on the way over. It was his fault for not repairing the hole in his pocket after tearing it from his last brawl.

No way out now I guess...

He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and rubs the cherry on the back of his hand before he drops it on the floor, crushing it with his black boots. Just as quickly as the cigarette left his mouth, another replaces it, the lighter coming up as if joined together with the cigarette. The nicotine was too addicting, he didn't mind the lethal poison that accompanied the chemical potentially affecting his body.

He's been critiqued on his bad habits by a fellow hero before, the smoke was just flat out unhealthy to have near people, so he should stop.

(He puts it nicer than what was actually said - Tatsumaki had gathered the all of the smoke in the room with her powers and stuffed it back into his lungs, hissing out hostile remarks as she did so. The product of a particularly bad day. Apparently she couldn't find any monsters to kill, and that caused her foul mood. It doesn't help that he was probably the closest thing to a monster she found that day.)

Even so, Zombieman couldn't disagree with the comments made, and though he never stopped smoking, the thought always flashed in his mind for the briefest of moments.

But this time he lit it without any guilt of others. This was a completely isolated area, where the air was already considered toxic to all organic matter. What's the harm of adding a little bit more poison in the air?

He dragged a large cloud of smoke out from his lips as he exhaled, almost like a sigh of relief from the long journey. Almost drearily, his eyes followed the grey mist drift through the air before it quickly dissipated into the atmosphere, the very last remnants of it lingered in one spot before fully turning transparent. His red pupils slowly fixated on that spot as he spotted the building he was headed towards.

...Break over. Back to work.

His arm slung the axe over his shoulder, resting the weight of the metal head in the crook of his neck as he continued his descent to his destination. He walked with calm confidence, not fitting of a man that's entering a toxic waste zone, but that suited him.

The thrill of an investigation was too addicting, he didn't mind about the dangers that had been constantly waved in his direction.

Perhaps the danger even added to the thrill of it.

-----

"Toxic waste land...? Hm." He murmured to himself as the read over the file they sent him. The low clicking of the train wheels was just as faint as his voice as he spoke. Zombieman positioned himself to a quiet corner of the fairly empty train, the folder in front of him messily sprawled out, but in a fairly controlled manner.

He had requested it to be in paper format, call him old-fashioned, but he viewed the information to be more tangible that way. Besides, he often breaks the phone the Hero Association provides him anyways. Once Child Emperor had leaped at the opportunity to make him an 'unbreakable' phone after hearing the staff members talk about how this was the 'fourth one this week', it had a pretty good run, but he still lost it in the end.

...It makes him feel bad to bother the kid for another one, so he'll just do this until Isamu notices and chucks him another. He'll treat it more carefully this time, he didn't realise just how much shitter the one's he gets from the Hero Association is. Isamu really was a genius, but he didn't want to pressure him too much.

He flips through the information provided, it was choppy. The testimonies didn't seem clear, and there wasn't a lot found by HA. Well, a lack of information never stopped him. His red eyes scanned the pages, picking up what he deemed the most vital snippets of data and committed it to memory.

"...Laboratory...", "...Mithridate...", "...Antidote...", "...Pancea...", "Dozens died from poisoning", "...Scientists Evacuate...", "...Local Town Falls Sick From Mysterious Illness...", "...Abandoned Area...", "...No Organic matter found in the vicinity..."

He concluded after reading it, there used to be a remote laboratory out this far that was focusing on creating strong antidotes. But it seemed that they weren't able to control it effectively enough, and apparently some sort of sample hadn't been contained properly had caused many of the scientists to die from poisoning. It seems that even though they tried their best to clean the place and dispose of the source, there was still trace amounts lingering and many workers became sick. The entire building was forced to evacuate - and a few years later, apparently some of the people that had lived nearby had to be admitted to the larger general hospitals. It started happening too frequently without any obvious cause and people started moving away. Satellite scans showed that the grass around this place slowly started dying, and bird avoided migrating near the area all together.

All in all, an typical case for him. He predicts the following days to be somewhat laid back. His only objective was to find what was the source. The implication in that was that he didn't even have to get rid of it, only report back.

There was something bothering him though. Like when you feel your feet shift a little too much - you're nervous but you don't know why. Or when you felt a pair of eyes watching you, but you couldn't place who in the crowd of people would spend so much time on you.

Current suspicion: There was something more to this case.

They could simply send one of their many drones to check out the area, scope out if there's a leak that's causing the increase of toxins detected. But they sent him.

His first thought: They suspected there was a monster there, and wanted him to kill it.

He could do that, they often do when they're worried about a particularly dangerous monsters most heroes couldn't defeat without wearing it down massively. But they didn't say anything in the report - they kept it hidden from him. To feign ignorance of the missing piece of the puzzle before even asking him for assistance.

...But why?

He's never shown hesitation to brutalise monsters. It's written in his fucking Encyclopedia page - something Bang had showed him after his disciple had pointed it out to him, and the old man just had to pass on the message, chuckling at the descriptors. Something something about how gore and death followed him or something along those lines.

...Is it related to Dr. Genus?

He clenches the paper a little too tightly, crumpling the otherwise pristine pages. The Hero Assocication might have had an inkling to his past. He never talked about it much, but did they find out? He wouldn't put it pass them - staying private in this day and age was getting more and more difficult by the day even if it would do both parties good if they stayed in their own lane. If they did know about his days of being an experimental sample, why were they assigning him to this case?

...Was this their way of turning their cheek the other way? By letting him confront his own past alone?

"...Sir?" He hears the train conductor walk over to him, nervously eyeing him up as the scowl on his face grows deeper at the thought of meeting the Doctor again. "This is the last stop." He hears as he snaps out of his thoughts, tilting his head up to look at the lady.

"...Thanks."

"...Are you sure about getting off here? There's nothing for a few dozen miles..."

"I'm sure. Thank you." He said, picking up the axe he had placed on the wooden floorboards, but didn't raise it above his head to rest on his shoulder like usual. Instead, he kept the metal head close to the ground, the blade pointed towards him and never her. He didn't want to alarm the lady.

"No, it's fine... I've not seen someone get off at this stop for perhaps a couple years now... It's nice to see people still come here in this little corner of the world - you know there's a forest a hour or so west from here? Beautiful place, you should check it out." She rambled on, the smile on her face causing the corners of her eyes to wrinkle. "Used to go there when I was young, took this same train out. I'm just a little too old for that now."

He nodded politely at her, taking note of the sun spots speckled on her skin. "...You're still younger than me, so there's no need to talk like that."

Besides, it's a privilege to be able to age. I'm sick of looking at the same damned thing everyday.

"Oh, aren't you a charmer..." She laughed, slowly escorting him down over to the train doors. He trotted after her, his boots made a small sound with each step he took. "Don't forget, the next time this train will be here is at eight tonight. Don't be late or you'll have to spend the night camping." She said, only getting a simple nod from him before the doors closed on her.

...A forest? I guess the toxins or whatever hasn't spread that far yet then...

As he walked away, he raised his axe back up and slammed it back on his shoulder, resting it there. Something of an reminder that he's on duty.

He's grown used to the weight of the axe.

-----

The building is fairly large - almost industrial. He could see it as a speck in the distance, but as he approached, he see that it's size wasn't anything much to be scoffed at. Definitely not at big at the ones he's seen at HA, but still, impressive.

As he approached the laboratory, he could see a... Fully-clad yellow figure running full speed at him.

Like second nature, he pulled out the guns from his sleeves and swung his axe back down to his midsection, his palms tightly gripping the weapons. It couldn't be a civilian - they would be fatally ill at this point from being this close to the site.

His blood-coloured eyes scanned the person (or perhaps monster) sprinting up at him. At closer inspection, he could tell that it was a human wearing a hazmat suit.

...Zombieman slowly retracted his desert eagle back into his trench coat and the axe also returned to its last position. There didn't seem like there was an danger yet, more so someone he needs to interrogate.

...Maybe there's still some people working here without anyone knowing?

They were... waving at him? He raised his thin eyebrow at them, shifting over to a more relaxed stance than before. He waited for them to approach - and as this mysterious figure got closer, he could hear muffled shouting from them as their hand waving in the air got more frantic. He noted that in their other hand, there was a blue gas mask.

He debated snuffing out his cigarette, but kept it in his mouth. It's not like they would be affected judging by the protection they're already wearing.

By the time they were close enough to him so that he could hear their words, it didn't matter since they were huffing out their lungs trying to breath in as much air as they could. Sprinting must have been hard - the hazard suit and heavy boots didn't help do them any favours either.

"...Are you alright?" He asked, staring down at him as they doubled over. The sound of their heavy breathing was clear even through the thick suit.

Regardless of their exhausted state, they sluggishly yanked him down to their level and slapped the spare gas mask onto his face. "...uckING STUPID!"

The impact of the plastic against his face caused him to glare at them with squinted eyes as he took the mask. He didn't bother dodging it - it's not like the action was malicious anyways. The force of which the firm plastic wasn't painful enough for him to make a noise, but he still grunted from the shock of their actions. "...What'd you say?"

They didn't respond, seeming satisfied with the fact he taken the respirator from them already and just crumpled back over on their form. He gave them a moment to gather their breath. "...Don't you know that this is a toxic area...? What the hell are you doing without any equipment...?"

He crouches down to their level, seeing as they were still catching their breath and he couldn't quite hear between their suit and the small distance. "I don't need it. What are you doing here?"

They tilted their head over to him, seeing that he had taken the blue mask off and just hung it around his neck by the strap. "...I live here."

Live? Not work?

"...Then don't you know that this is a toxic area?" He parroted the question back to them, trying to look into their eyes, or face, only to see that the glass they see out of is a reflective surface. Only his red eyes locked on with his own. His

"The inside of my house is safe, when I go out I wear this." There's something about the way in which they said it which made him think that they had rolled their eyes at him as they spoke.

"House?" He brushed off their attitude quickly, he didn't really care about it to begin with anyways, "what house?"

"Why would I tell a stranger where I live?" They snapped back, getting back up on their feet. Zombieman quickly followed suit. "What are you doing here anyways?"

"I'm a Hero. I've been sent here to find the source of the poison in this area." As if on cue, their head tilted at him in disbelief. He goes on to answer further, hoping it would dispel any more of their suspicion. "...You can call me Zombieman."

He could tell even without any facial expressions to help him nothing he said was convincing. "...Alright, 'Hero Zombieman'... If you've been sent here to investigate, then why didn't they send you off with any equipment with you? We both know that this isn't the safest place to be."

A reasonable question, he supposes. He just hopes that the answer he gives them is just as logical in their eyes. "I can't die - hence my name."

"...Can't die?" They repeated slowly, taking a few steps back from him. He could see the distrust in their body language, and he wanted to fill the gap quickly - they probably had a lot of information on this area he didn't. "...Don't lie to me, everything dies."

He nodded at them, trying to indicate that he acknowledges their suspicion then pulled his gun back out. They're not given much time to react to it, as the muzzle was pointed at his temple, his finger on the trigger. "I'll prove it."

Just as he pulled the trigger ever so slightly, he notices in that split second they've close the distance between them instantly. Their hands shooting out to tear the weapon out of his hands-

Only for him to tilt it ever so slightly upwards from its original position in surprise - instead of the bullet going through his skull at a straight line, it was just angled slightly differently, shooting through the top of his skull.

They froze up at the sight - the pink of the bone and the pink of his brains, the smell of blood was thick and metallic. They could smell it even through their suit, and nothing about their protection could block the sight of his hand. Limp. In your grasp.

Zombieman examined at them from the corner of his eyes, feeling that their hands was trembling slightly through the thick gloves they wore. It was from either the sight of his skull being blown open or the fact they thought he was now dead.

...I wanted to close the gap between us, but not physically...

"...Proof enough?" He asks, moving his head to face them. They practically leaped back, even in the chunky boots and protective gear they were wearing, they found themselves a couple feet even further than before.

...Was that too much?

No, I only shot myself. That's nothing.

...Am I too numb to gore compared to the average person?

"...Yeah. Yeah. I believe you." They say, their voice shaking as they watched the hole slowly fill itself back up again. First the grey matter in the brain, then the pink plating of the skull, and finally his pale skin and dark hair. It was as if nothing had ever happened - the only proof that they had was the dark streaks of blood that ran down his temple and the small splatters of flesh that had ended up on them. They did their best to quickly compose themselves."...So... Uhm... Do- do you need anything...?"

He nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt at their reaction. Yeah, it was too much to witness. Next time, he'll just cut his hand off or something. "Could you get me into that laboratory? I want to inspect it to see if I can find anything inside."

"...I can do that, follow me." They agreed, probably still in shock and stiffly placed one foot in front of the other, their hands having the same nature of movement - almost mechanically.

He was quiet for a minute, looking around the building. He wanted to ask more questions about them, but he had a feeling he needed to build back some sort of foundation of trust again if he wanted any good answers. Short, snippy ones aren't bad, but more detail is better this time.

"...What's your name?" He starts off simple.

They slowly moved their head over in his direction, stopping in their tracks. He briefly thinks for a moment that asking for that was too soon, but when he hears your name slowly uttered from your lips the thought is gone. He could sense the uncertainty of his character coming off in waves, but you still chose to tell him.

He nodded, "I'll keep that in mind."

"...And I don't think I'll be able to forget yours." He could hear you mumble faintly as you took long strides over to the entrance door. "Mr. 'Can't die'..."

...I don't mind if you were able to find a way to change that name of mine.

He didn't correct your words, and accepted his newfound alias. "How come you have access to the lab?"

It took you a while to respond, at first he just thought you didn't hear him or maybe you were busy fiddling with the keypad on the door, but it seems that you were considering telling him or not.

...Zombieman lowered his axe, resting it at his side. He may still be on duty, and it's not even the weapon he used to shoot himself, but it's not like he needed it this very moment. And if it helped soothe your worries even a little, then it will have been worth it.

When you get the door open, you turn back around to face him. He still can't see your eyes, but he could feel yours staring at him - cautiously inspecting him and his intentions before opening the door. "...This is where I live." You answered him.

...Huh, it worked.

He hummed appreciatively through his cigarette, reaching up and holding the door open for you. You paused your movements for a moment and nodded back, "...Thanks."

"No problem." He replied back, then followed after you, shutting the door after himself. When he walks in, he realises that the entrance is double sealed - one door after another to ensure that as little toxic gas leaves or enters. "So, you live in a lab...?" He says, practically repeating already known information in the hopes you'll slip out a little more data for him to piece together.

"Mhm. There's lab equipment everywhere." You say, though not intentional, your tone was pretty dismissive. It makes him wonder if he should play the long game or the short game.

He sticks to the former - besides, if he's really pressed up for time for whatever reasons, he can resort to more... forceful methods.

You open the other door, pressing even more buttons on the security system before beckoning him to follow through, holding the door open for him. "Quick - if you're there for too long, the doors will automatically shut and won't open without a special password."

"Oh." He nodded, the sounds of his boots increasing before the heavy door clicked securely shut. The two of you were now locked in together - he wonders if you're more anxious than him about the situation. One hand hand, he could be locked in with a mad scientist and be subjected to experimentation once again. On the other hand, he was a man that doesn't exactly have any indication of sane mental health paired with the fact he has a fair variety of weapons on his person ready to go any moment.

...They should be more scared than me.

"Do you work here?" He asks, trying to place down the foundations of trust.

"Yeah...?" You say, your thick gloves grabbing the other and pulling them off. "I'm... something of a researcher. Or something along those lines." The way you said it could be viewed as avoidant, or simply distracted - judging by the way your now exposed hands was fiddling with the hazard suit, taking it off and throwing them into a large plastic container off to the side of the door. Presumably to be disinfected and reused. "I've just been told to stay here until the toxins reach an acceptable level. Then I'm free to leave."

He narrowed his eyes at you, taking mental notes on your choice of words and actions. It was entirely unconscious behaviour, akin to second nature - Zombieman was already crafting a mental corkboard of everything he knew about this place and you. You took the final piece off, your large headpiece, finally revealing your face to him.

His eyes fixated on you, his red irises re-examined your figure, taking new mental notes to add to his corkboard. His eyes found their way following a sweat drop that traced the side of your face, a small trail of liquid trailed down your facial features before the head of it became too small to follow anymore. He briefly wondered it that sweat was a shade or two darker than it was supposed to be, but concluded that it was just the lighting of the room. "...Hot in that thing, huh?"

"...Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess I'm not really used to it..." You say, not noticing him observing you.

...Not used to the hazmat suit, I don't recognise them from the list of scientists provided, and they're uncertain about their role.

Current thoughts: You've turned out more suspicious than he thought.

-----

Nervously, your eyes kept glancing over to him, drinking in every detail of him that you could with each glance. At first, you thought it was the glass of your suit playing tricks on your vision when you spotted his red eyes, but even when you took your headpiece off and looked over him again, they were still red.

Blood red, to be more specific, especially now that you had a very, very recent reminder of the colour of blood.

His skin was almost porcelain white, but there was something of a grey undertone to it. His hair was a ink black and his getup didn't have a single drop of colour - the only thing you could even perhaps suggest that had a hue was the buckles of his (many) belts strung tightly against his chest. Everything combined, this monochrome sense of fashion contrasted with his striking red eyes and dark eye bags made it incredibly easy for you to focus on his face. Basically a sinkhole of attention.

Zombieman... From that name, you'd expect more decay, but...

...He's handsome. You concluded, as you kept finding your eyes shifting over to him as you showed him about the place. But he's also scary. Why would he shoot himself to prove a point...?

"Are you gonna show me around...?" He asked after what must have been you staring a little too long at him.

"Sorry." You say, turning your head away from him. Despite looking at him so carefully, you couldn't pick up on his mild discomfort. You try to remedy the situation, giving a honest reason to your actions should suffice, right? "...I was just thinking that you're very visually appealing."

The answer seems to shock him, or at the very least, throw him off his feet a little. His eyes widened at your response before he tilting his face slightly to his right clearing his throat into the sleeve of his trench coat. His left hand seemed to tighten his grip around his axe. "...Thank you."

You think that you shouldn't have said that - was he uncomfortable? You don't really have much of a chance to interact with people, and it's leaves you wondering your next move.

...Should I apologise? What did I do wrong? Is there such thing as too honest?

On quick glance back up at him, tells you that if he did feel uncomfortable by you, he's recovered. He's leaning against the plain white walls with his axe by his side. You note the fact he still hasn't raised it back onto his shoulder - whatever the reason for this, it somewhat made you feel more relaxed.

"...Uh, I'll take you around the first floor first...? It's mostly just like laboratory equipment, but it might help you?" You say, trying to gauge his reaction.

He simply nodded, and as you took your first step, so did he. You glanced back to see that he was a step or two closer behind you than before as you walked down the large white hallways.

...I hope that he leaves soon.

Just before you stepped through into another set of doors, there was a few equipment littered on the walls of the lab. Coats, gloves, masks. Though, you've used and ruined most of them at this point.

Please, please, leave.

You watched him place down the gas mask you had given him earlier alongside the other ones lined up on the wall for anyone to take. The others were faulty at this point, the one he put back down was one of the only ones that still functioned at this point.

It's not safe here, even for you.

-----

"...That thing..." You say, gesturing to him, your index finger waved over his face a couple times. "...smells terrible. Do you need it or something?"

He raised one eyebrow at you, wondering if his breath smelt for a moment before realising what you were saying. "...My cigarette?" He asked, taking it out of his mouth, bringing it a little closer to you to confirm your request. Your lips tightened and your eyebrows narrowed at the distance decreasing. So it is. "I suppose that I don't need it."

"Yeah, that... cigarette." You say, slowly rolling the word out on your tongue as you took a step back. "If you don't need it, can you get rid of it? There's vents all over the place, but I'm worried that smell will linger if you keep using it."

"...Sure, do you have an ash tray or something of that kind?" He asked, rubbing the lit part of the cigarette over the back of his hand. The burning sensation felt like it was shorter each time - the initial burn from the very first time he put out his smoke was almost exciting to feel. Now, it feels like pointless rebellion.

You looked at him, blinking. It took you a second to respond to him, trying to think of what would be suitable. Your eyes glanced around the room, landing on the shelf of conical flasks, before the blanket hung up on the wall that's placed there in case of a fire emergency.

...He thinks he likes the way your features scrunched up as you rapidly skimmed through all of the available items. You looked like you were in in deep thought over something rather minor - maybe he likes the way you took him so seriously, or was it the way you were so confident you could find a replacement within the confines of the room within seconds?

It didn't take you too long to find something. "...There's sand bins. Will that do?"

"Mhm." He nodded, and you walked over to the bucket filled with sand - presumably, it was to put out fires, but it could also be repurposed for a more crude use. Your hands wrapped around the bucket's handle, planning to bring it over to him, but he simply just followed after you and smothered the cherry into the sand. There was no chance of it catching fire now.

You nodded at him, then pointed at another table with glass equipment on top, giving a rather detail explanation to him as you picked up different parts - he was barely listening, his mind quickly filing away this odd morsel of information about you as he got back to his actual work.

...Have they never seen a cigarette before?

I mean, public smoking places are less and less common nowadays, but still...

He thought your behaviour was strange, but it'd be rude to point out. He let you continue guiding him around the lab. Besides, if you felt comfortable enough to tell him to stop smoking, then you must be somewhat amicable towards giving him more intel.

-----

The two of you finish the tour of the first floor, and you glanced over to the clock on the wall. "...I'm gonna head off to lunch. You can join if you want." You say, walking away from him and into another room. He peered in - seems like a break room for staff. He debated joining you, or wandering off on his own to investigate.

The former wins as he argues that he could just wander about later. It didn't seem like you were rushing about to get him to leave quickly anyways. If anything, he'd say you enjoyed the company judging by how he often caught you waiting for him to catch up when he spotted something of interest. Or when you stared at him intently when he spoke, taking his questions to heart.

...Or it could be for another reason. Tons of people flocked to Amai Mask for one big reason, Zombieman just... never suspected he'd be on the receiving end of the same kind of attention.

...'Visually appealing.' What is that supposed to mean?

As he enters the break room, he spots you waiting patiently by the microwave. There's a rather large pile of delivery boxes collected in the corner of the room. Perhaps one would feel shame at a 'guest' of sorts seeing the mess, but you didn't seem to care much. Upon noticing him, you opened the microwave door and added another packet of food.

I guess I'm eating too now.

He stands next to you, pretending to also wait for lunch, but in reality he just stared at you from the corner of his eyes. It doesn't take you long to return the action, your pupils also shifting over to his direction.

The two of you share eye contact until you turn away and go back to staring at the packets of food spinning around in the microwave. He lets out something of a cough, then goes to check his phone, (It's not like the could just whip out the files he had brought with him right in front of you anyways), maybe you were on the lists of scientists, and he just doesn't remember you that well.

Your eyes are casted away from your lunch, catching the glimpse of movement in the corner of your eyes. "...Whoa, you have a real nice phone..."

He tilts his head up at you, then turns the screen off before giving his device a quick spin for you to see if you wanted. You nodded at this, as if you were some sort of phone collector inspecting the goods before buying.

"No," he shakes his head, giving it a closer inspection as he spun it despite already giving it a verdict. "It can't even withstand falling off a skyscraper."

"...I don't think that's a good way to measure it." You say, a ghost of a smile on your lips. "Here." You fiddled with your pockets, before pulling out what he thinks is a brick at first as you carelessly held it out to him. "Here's one I found a couple years ago. Under my Dad's desk."

"...Maybe I do have a nice phone." He says, staring down at the device as you let out a small laugh out at him.

The phone was pretty old.

The equipment in the lab also looks quite old, but I don't know enough about it to know if it's actually old, or if it's just old compared to Isamu's hoard of equipment.

It seems like you had enough money to deliver food to yourself, but not enough to fund your research. You probably aren't being paid.

Probably because you aren't a real researcher.

But his conclusion just brings more questions than answers - why would you stay out here if you aren't getting paid well? You've been tasked with staying here until the toxins have subsided, but why would you do that? Money clearly wasn't the reason - maybe it was something more personal. His eyes meandered across the room until it landed.

Maybe it was your Dad.

"...Say, your dad worked here too?" He asks, slowly reaching out to take the phone from you, feigning fake interest in the device in your hands. His cold fingers brushed against your skin making your breath hitch - practically throwing the phone away from yourself.

He caught it before it collided against the surface of the table, but he wasn't even looking at the phone anymore as his eyes shifted over to you, examining your body language quickly to figure out what caused that reaction from you.

You held one hand in the other, your eyes fixated on him, one foot back and holding your breath as if you were waiting for one of you to drop on the floor. The two of you shared a look, the room sinking into a tense quietness. Just as he was about to speak, apologise, anything that felt right to say, you babbled something to dispel the tension.

"O-Oh! Yeah!" You exclaimed, slowly taking your footing back to it's original position. He didn't care so much about the answer anymore after your reaction but still, he listened. "My mother did too. Uh, both of them worked together. H-here."

"Huh..." He nodded, accepting the fact the two of you will skip past that moment. He felt his hand tingle from where your skin touched it - it was almost the same sensation as the one he used to get when pressing the lit part of the cigarette against his skin. Burning, hot. Maybe painful to a normal person but an fleetingly exciting moment to him. "And then you started working here too?"

"...Uh, yeah. Been here for a long time." You say, the words slow to come out. Your eyes drifted away from him and your hand slowly reached back over to the phone he had caught and placed on the table before retracting it back into your pockets. "Actually, I've been here... for a really long time."

He nodded, "how long?"

You didn't answer him at first, only tilted your face over to his direction. You looked... lost. Like you weren't sure what you were doing, or what's even going on. A sense of distant confusion with a vague or faraway goal. "I... don't know."

He frowned. You didn't seem like you were bad-intentioned, but you also seemed like a vital part of this mystery. "How come?"

You pursed your lips, turning away from him again before the microwave went off. The beeps echoed through the silence of the lunch room.

"...Lunch is ready." You say, opening the door of it. "You don't have any allergies do you?"

"No, but even if I did," he made some sort of general motion towards himself. You made a 'Ohh' sound. Some colour returned to your face that he didn't quite realise had left it.

...They don't know? How is that possible?

Also, their parents worked here, and now they do as well. They're most likely staying here not out of choice - are they trapped here? Threatened to stay? Guilt? You couldn't pay most people to stay in such a dangerous area.

"I've just been told to stay here until the toxins reach an acceptable level. Then I'm free to leave."

...What kind of messed up family business is this?

Zombieman could only see the rabbit hole grow deeper the longer he looked in - yet he'll jump head first anyways. He was never much for self preservation.

That same trait comes the thought: if he touches your hand again will it burn the same thrilling way?

-----

After you showed him around the whole lab, he concluded that there was nothing there was still working - and even if there was, it wasn't anything large-scale enough to cause such a large waste area. In fact, the only experiment he saw was you spitting into a test tube and then running it through a machine. Something to do with how it can detect what kinds of chemicals are inside it.

But that machine was clearly broken since he recognised many of the listed items inside to be toxic. You had explained that you had fixed it up after finding it in the storage room, but since that room wasn't well maintained, there was a chance that the toxic air was just stuck inside it now. At least, that's the conclusion you came to, and he didn't see a reason to deny it.

Apart from that, it was mostly you just explaining what each room was and the equipment inside. The tour was over quicker than he thought - but there truly wasn't anything noteworthy. The past researchers had taken all of the papers with them, so he couldn't snoop around to see if there was any information he was missing. It didn't seem like you were trying to hide anything either. You've always seemed like you were honest - perhaps a little apprehensive, but most of that was mostly because, well, he was a stranger in your home.

"That's all... I think I'll get going to bed soon, do you need anything or..."

"No, that's all." He said. "I think I'll get going."

"...At this time?" You ask, seeing him walk out to the door, trying to open it. His hands pressed randomly against the wall's buttons. Quickly, you walked over to him. "Are you going home?"

"I've missed the train, so I can't really go back, but I've been given a recommendation to visit a forest." He says, watching you as you brushed his hands aside to help him open the sealed doors. It burned like before, "I think I'll go check it out," he thinks he wants to feel it again."...Then I'll probably come back with a fresh mind."

"...Seriously?" You asked, pulling the door open for him. "You're gonna spend the nights in the woods?"

"Well, it takes a while to walk over. By the time I get there, it might be sunrise." He says, walking through the first set of doors. Your eyes nervously switched between him and the door, unsure if he was really going to walk back out into the toxic wasteland. "Thanks, I'll see you tomorrow. Or if I find the source of the poison, this will be the last you'll be seeing me."

"...Yeah. That's... fine." You nodded, now trotting over to him, hand hovering over the keypad to let him out. The inner set of doors shut tightly behind you, a slight hissing sound as the air was compressed in the room, ensuring that none of the toxins got in as the vents whirred faster in anticipation. "Here, I'll let you go."

He paused, looking over at you. "Don't you need your hazmat suit?"

Your index finger stopped over one of the buttons as you started pressing the password to get out. "...No, it'll be fine. My parents said that I have a higher immunity to this sort of stuff anyways."

"...Okay, if you say so." He nodded, accepting your words. Every rotting bone in his body was screaming that there was something off about the way you said it, but his heart didn't utter a single peep in protest. He wonders if you're hiding the truth from him judging from his physical reaction to your words.

You nodded back at him, your eyes flicking back up at his for one more time before the door opens, a small gust of wind blew his hair back a little as the heavy entrance opened itself - exposing the two of you to the chilly evening air. "...It's nice meeting you." You say, your words as distant as you could muster with your almost wistful expression.

"...You too." He nodded simply, taking a step out, his boots landing on the dirt footing outside. He paused then turned his head back, speaking again as if he couldn't leave without finishing his all of his thoughts. "Real pleasure to meet you."

You blinked at him repeatedly, taken aback. There was... a slight smile on his face? You weren't given a chance to respond back before the doors let out loud 'beeps' rapidly and the doors slammed down.

He turned back around, taking a couple steps forwards as he languidly pulled out a cigarette and his lighter. His eyes casted over the cherry of the cigarette, watching it catch a flame as he took in a deep, slow breath, inhaling as much of the smoke he could. Impatient, he'd usually call himself for trying so hard to get the taste of the poison as quick as he did just moments after lighting it. It's just getting him more hooked on the nictotine (if he could be anymore addicted), it'll kill him faster (if he could die). But this time he won't fault himself even with all the negatives.

Smoking won't help relieve this... feeling, but it won't make it worse either, he supposes.

His boots forcefully move his body forward as he let out a low grumble.

Move. He urges himself. This is ridiculous. I barely know them.

"Wait!" He heard from behind him, and he found his head turning around without his input. "...I have some sort of car in the lab. Do... you want me to drive you to the forest...?" You ask, holding something of a car key attached to the lanyard around your neck, jangling the sliver object.

...Zombieman knows that it's not the first time you smoke you become addicted. It's the second time.

"Yeah, that's be great." He responses, the cigarette practically falling out of his mouth as he spoke, but he barely cared, only catching it in his hands and crushing it in his palm. It burned - but he barely felt it.

He didn't know that infatuation worked in a similar way to chemical addiction.

-----

You drove him over to the forest, his voice quietly murmuring out the directions for you to drive him. He had made some sort of comment on the car being a off-road vehicle, but you didn't fully get what he was trying to say.

The interior of the car was cold, the heater was very slowly warming it's way up. He insisted that it didn't bother him, but even so, you tried cranking that bloody thing up all the way. There's not much fuel in the car to begin with, but you didn't mind using it on him. It's not like you were going to be driving again.

"Keep going straight, try to avoid that rock if you can." He says, his hand motioning towards the obstacle on the ground.

"O-okay..." You nodded, trying your best to keep the car steady. There was practically sweat dripping down your arms from your nervousness. "Like this...?"

"Mhm." He nodded, "do you not drive often?" He asked, noting your anxious features that was crawling it's way up your face.

"No, uh, can- can you tell...?" You say, pressing the accelerator a little harder, making the car go faster.

"Well, we've been either going 20 or quadruple that. You've not really decided on a constant speed to drive at." He said, pointing a finger at the speedometer. "Also, I've been the one controlling the stick shift since you keep putting it in the wrong one."

"...Ah."

"I think you don't even know how to drive, but I don't really mind." He says, leaning his arm out the window as he blew out another cloud of smoke out of the vehicle. "You got the air bags, so you'll be fine even if we crash."

"...Maybe I'm just a really bad driver." You mutter, feeling your face grow hot even in the cold breeze that came in through the window.

"It's not a maybe." He says, turning back to you, "but it doesn't matter. I appreciate your help. I'll teach you how to drive for real after we get to the forest."

You raised an eyebrow at him, "You can drive?"

"...Eh." He makes a non-committal sound until you shot him a questioning glance, making him answer you properly. "...I don't have a valid licence, but I can drive."

"...So you're just as qualified as me?" You laughed, "or perhaps just as unqualified as me?"

"No, I've passed before. It's just that I've not driven in so long I don't know if I pass the current standards." He answers, maybe a little quickly as you chuckle at his explanation, not exactly buying his answer. "I should still be valid to drive."

"What are you, a old man?" You laughed, the car slowing down as your foot released the pedal, your mind too distracted by what he just said to properly process both things at once. "How could your licence just expire?"

"I had a licence before I was used for human experimentation and I've not had the time to try to renew it." He answers causally, taking in another breath of the smoke before breathing it back out. "I think."

You almost completely stopped the car before turning your head back over to him. "...Huh?"

He turns back to you, staring back into your eyes as your face grew pale at his words, unsure of what to say in response to him. "It's not a secret. I just don't talk about it."

"...Oh." You nodded, then took your hands off the wheel and your foot off as well. "...Is that why you can't die?"

"...Yeah." He nodded, then blew out one last cloud of smoke before he rubbed the light out on his skin again. There wasn't a moment of hesitation between his actions and words - he's too used to the pain he inflicts on himself. The slightest pink tinge on his skin from the burn is gone within less than a second.

The car let out a splutter, filling in the silence that took place in the car. Then stopped dead in it's tracks. "...Uh oh." You glanced down at the screen in front of you, trying to see what went wrong. "...I think we're out of fuel."

"...Mhm. Yeah." He agreed, glancing over to you. "It's fine, we're mostly there anyways." He says, nodding his head forward as he indicated towards your destination.

Your eyes casted over to the view in front of you - you didn't even realise until he pointed it out, but the two of you reached the forest he was guiding you to earlier.

It was dark, the bark of the trees was jet black against the faint light that shone down on the trees. You could barely see past them to see their fellow family. You've never seen them before in person - it was much larger than you had expected. The air smelt... clean.

Even so, it doesn't keep your attention for long as you looked back over to the man next to you. His pale skin contrasted strongly against the darkness outside, his red eyes shifted over to you, and you could pick up on the slight tinge of metal from the dried blood from earlier.

He didn't look human. He didn't have the warm undertones of blood running underneath people's skins. His response to pain was too lukewarm. He had no reaction to being in such grave danger. 'Zombieman' fit him.

"...Shall we go?" He offers, clicking open the car door for him to leave. "You can stay if you want."

"...No, I'll join you."

But he was still far, far more human than you were.

-----

The two of you wandered out into the woods. You flicked your flashlight on while he bravely moved forward in the dark, unafraid of any possible dangers that would be lurking in the woods.

"...Are you looking for something in particular?" You asked, your eyes flicking back over to him as you carefully shined down towards the ground to see where you were placing your heavy-duty boots.

"No." He replied back, still moving like a man on a mission. "The train conductor said that I should drop by here if I had time. I have time."

"...Do you think you'll find your source of poison?" You asked, your voice wavering towards the end, almost backpedalling last second in the hopes he didn't hear you.

He tilted his head backwards, glancing back towards you when you asked. "...I think it's from your home. I just don't know how yet."

*...How honest.

Well, I suppose that he doesn't really have anything to be afraid of anything he can't die. There's not much reason for him to lie.

"...I see." You nodded, your palms feeling slightly clammy after his answer.

...I wonder if he opened up about his past in the hopes that I'd also be more honest with him.

He continued to stride ahead, not taking any particular detours, walking in a straight line forward as he dragged his axe across the ground. It was still low to the ground.

...I hope not. Because I think it's working.

Then, you heard a branch snap off in the distance. You froze up instantly, your feet stuck on the dirt as your head swung over in the direction of the noise as you tried to find the source.

Finally, Zombieman stopped walking, standing still as he tilted his head in the same direction as the sound, the two of you almost perfect mirrors of each other.

"...We have company." He says, as he takes a step over to the sound, swinging his axe upwards to lean rest on his shoulder as he began to stroll over. You think you heard the metallic 'click' of his gun as well. "Let's give them a proper hello."

You flicked your head back and forth, from him to off in the distance of where the car was. Even if your vehicle couldn't move and was useless, you'd still rather go and hide in there over wherever the hell he was waddling off to. "C-Can we not...? If I die, I die."

He didn't acknowledge you maybe he didn't hear, only pressing on and got further and further away from even as the flashlight didn't reach that far ahead. You flipped a coin in your head to decide your choice to join him or leave. You mentally cursed yourself. Repeatedly.

...I guess I'm going too...

Even your feet protested against your brain's decision, but you ignored it and willed them to go on.

It didn't take long for him to stop in front of a bush, looking down at the source of the sound. You think that he's already taken care of the problem before you step past the shrub blocking your vision to see what he was looking at.

"...That's a crow...?" You murmured, your eyes fixed on the bird struggling to get off the ground - there was a sense of pure curiosity even at the sight of the animal in pain. "It's... small."

Zombieman barely paid attention to your words - it wasn't that he didn't find them interesting, it's just that he want to focus his efforts on something else right now.

"Mhm, it might be young." He nodded as he stepped out from behind the shrub. The bird started letting out sounds - perhaps to try to warn the man to step back, but he continues forward. "I think the wing is broken." he explains, pointing to the broken branch next to the animal with his axe. "I guess it hit the tree pretty hard and this is the result."

"Oh," you watched him crouch down to the bird, gently picking it up. It squawked louder as he picked it up to inspect it. "...So, do we help it?"

"...I don't know if we can." He replies back, picking it up with both hands, leaning the head of the axe in between his head and his shoulder as if he was taking a phone call with it. "...Have you ever taken care of a bird before?"

"...I've barely even seen a bird before, I'll be honest." You say, the works almost slipping out without you thinking much of it. He flicked his eyes over to you questioningly but didn't verbalise his thoughts. He was still intent on playing the long game.

"I guess we can take it back to the car for now." He says, his fingers clutching onto the torso of the bird firmly as he tried to support it's wing. Do you have any equipment in the car?"

"Maybe...? There's stuff in the back, we could try helping it." You say, nodding along with him as he began to walk back out the woods, you walking in front to guide him out with the only source of light between the two of you. "...Being a hero must be hard work." You mutter under your breath, your eyes flicking back to him practically cradling the animal in his arms as he steadily supported it to prevent it from hurting itself anymore. It's stopped crying at this point. "You even have to tend to the needs of even animals."

"Nothing worth doing is easy." He responses, picking up on your quiet words, his boots unshakeable even as he stepped on multiple uneven tree roots. "...Besides, this isn't my usual work. I investigate dangerous areas or suspects. My information isn't useful without someone to put it to good use. Helping others is inherently heroic. What I do isn't." He says, almost putting himself down as he spoke even if he didn't intent to. His tone was blunt and factual - he wasn't looking for reassurance.

"...Someone has to be the tester. Any important situation needs one." You say, your words sounding almost rehearsed as you spoke. Like you've heard it many times before. "...You fill a role no one else can."

He shifted his attention away from the crow, his head lifted up to look at you as you spoke. You didn't turn your head around though, only faced forward. He couldn't see what kind of expression was on your face.

-----

You opened the car door for him, letting him gently lower the bird onto the passenger seat of the car. The warm air that was somewhat there from the car heater was no longer in the vehicle, now it also reached the temperature of the cold air around you. Neither of you minded, but you still couldn't help the goosebumps crawling up your arms as a strong gust came every so often.

"Go watch it, I'll go check the back of the car." Zombieman said, resting the animal down before he swiftly walked away to open the boot of the car.

"O-Okay..." You nodded, briefly watching him move away from you two before you looked back down to the bird.

It had black ruffled feathers, and bright dark eyes. Eyes that seemed to stare deep into your inner being. It let out another echoing caw as it tried to fly again, getting up on it's feet. You quickly stepped forward, trying to discourage it's escape with your body. You hoped that you didn't actually have to touch it.

It stared up at you, then cried loudly. Clearly something of a battle cry as it then tried to fly - but was only able to hop forward.

You let out a fumbling cry of shock, your eyes seeing it fall off the car in slow motion. You had to catch it- You aren't wearing gloves- You can't touch it-

You have to catch it-

Your body moved on auto-pilot as your hands shot forward to catch it from falling to the dirt floor. Your brain knew, it fucking knew what would happen if you touched it, yet it still commanded it to move forward due to whatever fucking human nature you had left.

It's feathers grazed against the skin of your hands. Your body froze. It was warm. It was warm to touch even in the cold weather cooling the both of you down.

"Good catch," you heard distantly. You felt like you were submerged in a pool of ice water - you struggled to hear whatever was around you. Your eyes were frozen in place. Your body didn't listen to you. "Here, I found a first aid kit in the back."

You didn't process his words. You only watched the lively bird stumble on it's footing as you caught it. It blinked at you with something you'd call indignant anger. It would be right to be angry at you in a moment.

"You can put it down now," Zombieman said, clicking open the clasps on the box and pulled out some bandages. "We need to support it's wing with something strong." He carried on, unravelling the white gauze.

When he saw that you didn't listen to him, he reclarified for you. Maybe you didn't know what to get. "A straight strong stick should do. Go find one."

You still didn't move, and he finally looked up. He stared at you questioningly, not quite understanding the guilt ridden expression on your face until he looked down at your hands.

The black feathered bird was flopped over on your hands, it's eyes closed. It slumped over on it's wings and feet in a strange way. It's beak was open wide, trying to get something out that was never really there.

"...I think..." You say, your head turned over to face him, but he didn't really think you were looking at him. "I think your investigation is over."

...The crow was getting colder.

-----

"...I'm kinda like you." You started, sitting down in the car with dirt in stuck in your fingernails. You insisted on burying the crow before you explained everything. It was a request he easily granted - you had dug into the soft soil with your bare hands and covered the corpse with the same hands that killed it. "I'm... also like this because of human experimentation."

"...Go on." He said, nodding along.

"The lab, I'm sure you already know this, but they wanted to create antidotes. Something that would cure any poison. They obviously experimented on animals, but in the final stages, they wanted to test on a human subject. It was almost to fruition I think. And... My parents brought me in. I grew up in the lab." You sighed. "I wonder if they're even my real parents... What if..." You trailed off, the suspicions had clearly been weighing in your head for a long time. "...Never mind. That doesn't matter anymore. Anyways, one of the vials they gave me apparently wasn't the correct one. I started absorbing the poison in my body, almost like a storage box. No one realised at first."

"...Something happened, huh?" He said, picking up on your choice of words.

"...Yeah, they gave me some particularly strong poison or something to test out how my body would respond to the antidote they prepared. They didn't anticipate that I'd be able to absorb it alongside with the antidote." You let out something of a dry laugh. "That... was the last time I ever touched my mother. They cleared me to leave and I went up to her to say hi. She... collapsed on the ground, convulsing seconds later. After that, no one approached me without hazmat suits again. They quickly stopped working, after something else happened and they fled. My father was the last to go."

"...And that's when he gave you the instruction to stay until the level of toxins were acceptable?" He asked for confirmation. To which you nodded at him.

...Seeing everything fall into place has never felt so unsatisfying to him before.

He gave you a measured nod, his eyes never leaving the sight of your hunched over figure. "...So he sends you money to keep you somewhat alive?"

"...I don't know if he knows if I'm still alive." You shook your head. "Hell, I don't know if he's still alive himself. It's been... years. I only have the bank transactions from him as m only form as contact. I... still don't know if I killed my mother or if she's recovering somewhere."

He let out a quiet curse under his breath, leaning his arm against the window as you continued speaking.

They lived like this for years. Years.

"...I know what that place is, Zombieman." You say, your nails pressing tight against your skin, digging in. "I didn't want to admit it."

"...A prison?" He tried guessing when you didn't speak for a while, only to be met with a humourless laugh.

"Coffin. It's a coffin for me. I was born into a live burial - I'll live and die there." You say, your voice completely monotone. It was like a reporter going about the facts of the day. "The furthest place I've been from here. This... forest. And just by going once, I ruined the place. I can't just... leave. This was already a mistake."

He listened to you, watching the way you clutched yourself for some sort of support. He stayed quiet, examining your features carefully. Nothing on his corkboard prepared him for this - but perhaps his own personal experience of being on the other side could help.

He slowly forms the thoughts in his head - there wasn't much he could remember when he first left the lab he had escaped from, but he tried his best to gather what he could. What would have comforted him best? Well, probably the death of Dr Genus.

It was just a tad too slow - you had began speaking again.

"...When are you going to end me?"

He turned his head over to you, too quickly. "What?"

"You found the source of the poison." You say, leaning over to him from your seat. His breath hitched as you got closer. "You've known for a while, haven't you? So when are you going to do it? In my sleep? With a gun? Or an axe?"

It probably doesn't help, but at the mention of his weapons his eyes find their way over to their positions. "...I'm not going to murder you." He says, but didn't get up. He let you look down at him from where you were - it was probably the little bit of power you still had over him in your eyes. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"I made that crow die." You state, your retort coming back far too fast. "You saw me. One touch from me killed it. It was barely even a few seconds."

"...That doesn't warrant the death penalty." He sighs. "Nothing you've done deserves punishment of any kind, it's not your fault. None of it."

You stared at him with an unreadable expression on your face, he struggled to place what you were feeling at the moment despite it being the most vital time for him to be able to. "...I have a question," you say, almost reluctant to interrupt him. "If there was something that could only cause harm, why keep it?"

He doesn't given himself much time to think of his answer, knowing that the longer he took the more insincere he would sound to you. "I know many people who's only speciality is violence." He starts out, leaning a little closer to you as you took a step back from him, giving him more space. "...We call them heroes. Or monsters, depending on their intentions."

"...Are you one of these people?" You ask, your words feeling heavier than he expected for such a short question.

"I'd say so." He responded, his voice flat as he continued speaking. "...But a lot of people suspect me as a monster too. "

"...You're more than that." You said, tilting your head at him with scornful befuddlement. You looked upset, but not at him.

"Aren't you the same?" He mirrored the simple question to you.

There's silence from you, until he hears a small sniffle and you bring up one hand to wipe at your eyes. He's frozen solid for a second until he reaches over to a box of tissues nearby and offered it to you.

"No..." You shook your head. "No thanks, my tears will just melt it... Tried it, trust me..."

"...Yeah, that's what tissues tend to do in liquid long enough." He cracked the dry joke, trying to lighten your mood and still offering the box to you, just slightly further away.

"...No, they're..." You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a shaky sigh as you forced yourself to bite back the tears. "My tears are corrosive. Highly corrosive."

"...Huh." He said, putting the box aside and stood up. "Would you like my coat instead?"

"...Why on Earth would I want that?" You say, the last of the tears running down your face as you stopped wiping it with your hands.

"...It's work clothes, I can get these replaced for basically free. It's cheaper than those tissues." He shrugged, trying to make another attempt to cheer you up seeing that you had stopped at this point. They were more stressed tears than anything, so your crying wouldn't have lasted long anyways.

You blinked at him before letting out a laugh, "no, no... It's okay... I don't want to accidentally hurt you. I'm fine now anyways."

"Mhm." He nodded, watching you sit back down on your seat. "...You know, I have a really, really smart colleague. He might be able to help you leave if you want."

"...Really?"

"He's the smartest person I know. And I've been kicking around for a while." He states a chuckle on his lips as he spoke. The only other person he could think of being close to Child Emperor was Dr Genus. There wasn't a chance in hell he'd let him anywhere near you.

"...Do you think he'd be willing to help?" You ask, the lilt of your voice going up a little higher, a sense of hopefulness leaking into your tone. "Or wait, would he be safe? I don't want to hurt him by accident..."

He nodded at your concerns as you spoke. "I've seen him analyse venomous monsters during the heat of battle and create antibodies on the fly. I think there's a strong chance."

"...Wow, he sounds really smart. Is he a hero like you?"

"Yes," he nodded, something you'd describe as pride adorned his features. "He's more of a hero than me, though. I could learn a lot from him."

"...I think you're far more of one than you think you are."

He's silent, staring back into your eyes. It takes the both of you a moment before either speaks. His voice breaks the silence gently, his words slow and purposeful as he spoke.

"...I think we should get going soon. We need to catch that train."

#zombieman #zombieman x reader #one punch man #opm x reader #OtterlyFoolishWritings #someone who can't die + someone that kills everyone they touch = love story #or at least a potentially funny dynamic imo #tbh i feel like I could write a (short) multi-chapter fic off this idea but I Probably Won't because I have issues with Time Management #other running thoughts are that I wanted to write more about MC's past #I feel like they could be very fun to write and then delve into with ZM as he gets to work sniffing shit out #But I wanted to keep the “”vibe“” of mystery even if you knew all the plot twists from the summary before hand #x reader

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my-castles-crumbling · 2 months

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Hey Cas!

This is really quite a personal question, so please feel free to completely ignore it/don't respond if it's crossing any of your boundaries of what you are willing to discuss or anything.

I know you identify as gender fluid, so I was just wondering how you... knew? And what it means to you? Because right now I'm thinking I might be genderfluid, and I really don't know how to feel about that... some days I feel like a girl (my assigned gender), but then other days all I want is to be born a boy and I hate my body and being called a girl. But then other times I will look at girls and think if I looked and felt like them everything would just be easier.

Sorry if this is too personal, but any guidance you could provide would be much appreciated xx

Hi! <3

No, not too personal!

I started by realizing that when i looked at certain people, I got a lot of gender envy- people like Conan Gray, lol. And I did some soul searching about that and realized that sometimes I feel what I now realize is dysphoria. I told my wife, and we experimented with she/they pronouns. And from there, it was a LOT of research about different nonbinary terms. I struggled, because I felt kind of like you're saying- some days, I'm cool with being perceived as a girl. But others I would kill to be a boy. And when i read about genderfluid, I realized that fits- my gender expression changes!

I'm still doing a lot of work on what it means to me. My wife is actually making me a 'gender blanket' which is like a temperature blanket but each color corresponds to a different gender that I've defined (things like 'very femme' 'slightly femme' 'boygirl' 'girlboy' 'very masc' 'slightly masc' and 'no real gender') and every day she adds a color according to how I'm feeling that day, which has been helpful for me to find words to express how I'm feelings.

I don't know if this is helpful at all, lol, but I would say doing a lot of research and self-reflection is important. It's also okay to change your mind and update your preferences based on what you find out.

I'm naming you appreciative anon in case you want to write again!

#ask #asks #ask cas #appreciative anon

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midnight-pluto · 8 days

Text

PRIDE — genshin impact

various!genshin characters who I believe are queer and my headcanons for the them!

char: ayaka, lisa, kaveh, neuvilette, wanderer/scaramouche, zhongli

a/n: pls keep in mind that my headcanons for these characters may not always translate to my fics as they are for everybody and i try to stick to the canon as much as possible

AYAKA

bi-curious with she/they/it pronouns

she definitely gets flustered around specifically pretty women shopkeepers and does her best to compliment them in anyway without stuttering

although she isn’t still quite sure if she likes boys in that kind of way; they had a crush on thoma for a couple of months when he first became the kamisato’s retainer

shocked the public when appearing on a float during inazumas pride parade, and it took a lot of convincing from both her brother and thoma that it would be perfectly fine for her to appear in the festival

u cannot tell me that the two lesbians running the city wouldn’t throw a pride fest U CANT

KAVEH

gay; any pronouns

…do i really have to elaborate?

well, he was a closeted gay for most of his life until his later years at the akademiya so that was something he went through

didn’t have his first kiss until he was in his 20’s too but i don’t really think that matters

LISA

pansexual who goes by she/her pronouns!

she never necessarily “found out” she liked everyone she just kinda knew and assumed it was the same for everybody else

but soon came to the realization that it was not the case by leisurely making a comment how she found everyone attractive in their own way at the akademiya

also found out that the akademiya wasn’t necessarily discriminatory, just haters of everything remotely romantic

was jean’s first kiss

NEUVILETTE

ASEXUAL KING AND HE/THEY PRONOUNS

i’m sorry i feel so strongly about this

am i projecting because im also ace? maybe

might be in the greysexual area or demisexual but they haven’t dug to deep into that yet as he still has other things to do for fontaine before themselves </3

WANDERER/SCARAMOUCHE

triple A battery over here: asexual, aromantic, agender and any pronouns (so maybe quadruple A then?)

wanderer is a puppet who can feel human emotion, but i don’t believe they have that kind of desire of romantic affection — yes he had the desire to be a god, but that was because that was his original purpose. not because of human greed for more

back to the puppet thing, puppets don’t have organs. so quite literally, scara has no gender

god i can write an essay about him

ZHONGLI

gender-fluid, demiromantic and omnisexual with he/they pronouns

i think there was something about him taking the form of an old lady back in the archon quest? but i could just be remembering wrong and my gender-fluid headcanon could have no real basis 😭

but yea, he’s lived a long life so it’s most definitely going to take a while for him to fall in love with anybody

a/n: this has been in my drafts since — i kid u not, — november.

i am not joking.

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happytaffeta · 1 month

Text

I've talked about my fondness for Sandman characters before, but last night I got into the weeds with the boyfriend about my feelings on real life liminal spaces and Delirium and gender, because I saw a video essay on liminal space vibes versus backrooms style horror, which are different but related things.

The video guy articulated why and how they differ really well, but also, it made me think about this one exchange about liminal spaces in the Sandman comics.

Dream and Delirium are on a plane, and Del talks about liking to be in places like that, places that aren't places. Places in between. Later in the story as she recounts their journey, she reiterates this fondness for the in-between places.

And I read that and think about a quiet park or bus stop, or a mall between evening close and next morning's open. Places with people in them can be that way, too. Hotels, for instance, or department stores.

Places you're in for a while but you don't stay there. There are people there or there aren't. You might be with friends or alone. It's no one's home. It's familiar, if you've been there before, but ever shifting even so. A place that isn't quite a place. A state of change, made manifest.

That's the feeling she meant. Liminal spaces as a concept are much older than the online aesthetic movement. There have been places you pass through but do not stay for as long as there have been people passing through.

And, I'm also a fan.

I think there's something about that whole thing that can be actually sort of soothing. Like. Yeah. It's no man's land. But it's also every man's land. It's not home, but you can be here a while, and it's okay. You can't stay. But you can rest.

They're the architectural equivalent of my gender experience.

Which is probably why I love Delirium so much out of all the Endless.

Even more than Desire, who is actually nonbinary and fluid of gender, Delirium is in constant flux. She's a mirror, and a kind one at that. She's Neil and the artists reaching out a hand and saying to me and people like me, 'Hey, I see you. And I know it's hard, but look how wonderful you are.'

Like yeah. Death is a perennial favorite. She takes everyone just as she finds them and she treats everyone with compassion and she is the quintessential perky goth.

But Del is someone who was hurt, somehow, in a way she cannot quantify, and she is strange and half wild and held together with bits of string and rubber bands and tape. And she is beautiful and harsh and jagged and soft all at once. And that's what it's like, a lot of the time, both to be someone who's been hurt and lived through it but sort of…'came back wrong', for lack of a better phrase, and as someone who's not quite what people expect me to be to start with.

So, thanks again, Mr Gaiman, for the compassion.

#the sandman #neil gaiman #delirium of the endless #Liminal spaces and genders

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tyrannuspitch · 4 months

Text

as a trans gay guy, my relationship to the concept of the butch/transmasc overlap is so so weird. because on one level it's by and large a real social phenomenon that underlies a lot of common experiences and draws communities together and so on. but then on another level. like. some of us (transmascs) just Are Not Butch. i recently read fun home, and i was really struck by bechdel's account of butchness and how it... didn't actually resonate with me at all. like, i'm very familiar with feeling uncomfortable with conventional femininity, and with wanting to look male - but i keep re-realising that the experience of specifically aspiring to masculinity is just alien to me. in particular, bechdel describes feeling like she might have been compensating for her dad's femininity, and like... i've never felt anything like that. i've tried to put distance between myself and women's femininity, but i've only ever looked at fem men and felt jealous of them.

but then i look at the cis gay male community for examples of male femininity, and of course, it has its own gnc/trans overlap. and i don't aspire to trans womanhood any more than i aspire to cis womanhood.

so for people on those two cusps, gender and orientation might be very fluid and open-ended, but my personal desired gender expression is actually quite narrow and a very delicate balance - narrower and more specific even than a lot of other fem gay trans guys i've encountered.

what's more, i've heard from a lot of people on the transmasc/butch cusp in particular that, essentially, they know they're queer because they're attracted to women, and the rest is hazier, but maybe also less important. which is an interesting perspective, but again - completely alien to me. gender comes first for me, without a doubt - and even that can be subdivided. orientation comes after gender, but a positive sense of maleness also comes after a completely fundamental sense of non-femaleness. gender and sexuality are entangled for both of us - but once again, in opposite ways.

i conceive of myself as a binary man, but even so, it's like... almost a nonbinary experience, in a way. like, in very old-fashioned views of queerness, there are two basic types of queer - the butch-lesbian-transhet-man group and the fem-gay-transhet-woman group. there are male inverts and female inverts, FtMs and MtFs, or in polari, omee-palones and palone-omees (men-women and women-men). and someone like me just... doesn't fit into that framework. if an invert is a man with a woman's soul or a woman with a man's soul, what is a woman with the soul of a man with the soul of a woman? you need more layers. you need to recognise that gender and orientation are, or at least can be, separable experiences to be able to conceive of me at all. and ironically that often means you have to frame orientation almost like a gender, again - i believe lou sullivan referred to himself as female-to-gay-male, and i can see why.

but at the same time - we've allegedly come so far, and people can now nominally conceive of identities like mine - but it's still a huge struggle to even begin to express it. how do you reconcile rejection of cisfemininity and womanhood with a genuine desire to be subtly feminine/effeminate? i haven't found a way yet. i don't know if it will be possible until i can access medical transition (and even then, it might take years.) so in the meantime, i look butch, and i just have to live with the fact that the identity i'm broadcasting is the direct opposite of who i really want to be.

idk man. i'm a trans man, but maybe i'm transandrogynous. but it has to be the right androgyny, an androgyny i feel is "male", so maybe i'm not! i'm a faggot trapped in a dyke's body. i'm transitioning from one queer gender expression to another, and while i do feel a degree of solidarity and commonality with actual butches, i also feel like butchness is, for me, nearly as suffocating and dissonant as cisfemininity.

and reading this back now, i've realised i'm doing the same thing over again - i'm conflating my own gayness with my own desire for androgyny(?)/effeminacy(?), and somewhere out there, a fem transhet guy or a butch transhet girl is groaning with exactly the same kind of alienation i often feel.

god. gender is so complicated and so important and so stupid at the same time. why does it have to be so hard!!! we all just want to exist.

#don't know if i have a tag for gender musings.#dk if this makes sense either but i'm done with it now so goodbye

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brandnewhuman · 9 months

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Hey I was wondering if you could do a slasher match up, it’s cool if not!

I’m a ✨fluffy✨ 5’5 gender-fluid person. I usually wear baby comfy clothes and usually have my hair down. I love to draw both traditional and digital. I love horror even though with my active imagination end up terrifying myself. I am an introvert but I have my extrovert moments. I usually keep to myself, but with people I trust I will spend hours talking or just vibing. I hate when people touch me unless either 1. I initiate touch. Or 2. I tell them that they are allowed to touch me. If anyone touches me that I don’t know or like, I have accidentally broken a few bones. I like to stay in my room most days and spend hours either reading, drawing, watching movies, or resting with mountain of plushies. I like to talk a lot but I have a social battery that when empty I will become aggressive. I am fairly strong due to having to help out on my families farm. I like fall more than the other season and Halloween is my favorite holiday. I also tend to have a people pleaser complex and tend to worry about others, but also somehow speak brutally honest.

I paired you up with...

♡ Rz Michael Myers ♡

♪IT'S CUFFING SEASOOON♪ big boy here is your perfect match, bro is quite literally all you need ARGUE WITH THE WALL

WHY HE'S THE BEST MATCH?:

For starters, i think we can all agree on the massive size kink we all collectively have in the slasher community and this man? BIG, HUGE EVEN. BRO IS BUILT LIKE A MF TREE.

Like you, he opens up only to people he truly loves and trusts so I think he would appreciate this personality trait of yours cause it makes him feel special to know you feel this nice around him, that you open up and start being more yourself when he's with you. Loves the stay at home activities and you can bet he's gonna do DIY projects and artsy stuff with you CAUSE OUR MAN HERE IS WHAT? TALENTED AND CREATIVE, EXACTLY.

Ngl, if he finds out you get a bit scared of horror movies because you overthink about them, he would fuck around and spook you from time to time but just for shits and giggles, never too seriously. Bro doesn't have a single ounce of respect inside his body.

Physical touch is difficult for him too, and because of how you are about it I think he would be perfect for you. He needs someone who won't make him feel guilty if he doesn't feel like being physically affectionate and stuff but at the same time he needs to be able to feel comfortable enough to know he can ask for it and try to be more affectionate without the person taking advantage of him. Weirdly enough, boundaries help him regulate himself on how to express his love for people cause he has never had anyone teaching him these things so he needs to be guided a little bit.

Speaking of social battery thing, his has never been charged lmao THIS MAN IS SO DONE WITH HUMANITY FR. But for you? He's sitting there and listening to every single word you might say. And you may think he's not gonna pay attention and end up forgetting everything BUT YOU'RE WRONG. He proves he listens with small gestures; if you talk about certain food things you like, you'll find them in the house the next day. If you tell him about a movie, he puts it on the TV when you're watching stuff with him the night after. If you talk about someone bothering you, they're gone. Which is a problem cause half of the fucking town will start to disappear since he takes even the smallest thing that might've annoyed you very seriously, BRO IS NOT PLAYING GAMES.. HE WILL KILL BITCHES FOR YOU. and in general too, but that's not the point. Also he loves to just hang out in silence around you if you don't wanna talk, and if you want alone time he's gonna take the opportunity and go do his own thing. This type of freedom and having the choice to finally do whatever he wants without being forced to do anything else is really refreshing for him.

As soon as you say Halloween is your fav Holliday he's gonna be like "you can't handle the uber instincts of my uber autism" AND GOES CRAZY FR FR. He makes you a Halloween mask, he sits with you to watch old horror movies, makes you buy candy or steals it for the both of you. Obviously he's gonna go and do some killz and all that jazz, BUT MOSTLY HE'S GONNA SPEND THE WHOLE DAY WITH YOU.

Overall he matches really well with your creative and chill personality, he feels safer with someone who's not overwhelmingly clingy and loving but still shows affection and stuff.

WELL, THAT'S ALL FOLKS. I HOPE YOU LIKED IT AND I KNOW ITS A BIT SHITTY BUT THATS BC I HAVEN'T DONE THIS IN A WHILE.

Song that matches the vibe:

#slasher fandom #slasher community #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher matchups #rz michael myers #rz halloween #michael myers #horror movies #halloween #halloween movie

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kosmicpowers · 4 months

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Well, the scp wiki could place Miss Sweetie as intersexual, that would be quite representative.

So, as a trans person, do you think in my fancanon that Miss Swettie could be an intersex person? as the wiki says she prefers to be called by the feminine pronoun. Would people be offended if I put this up?

because I really researched the subject, and even health channels and such so as not to make the mistake, as a trans person, what do you think?

saint seiya has that golden knight of cancer from next dimension 2 that is intersexual.

Hmm... Well I'm honestly not quite even sure what I am yet (I'm heavily leaning towards trans man but haven't really told anyone) so I might not be the best person to ask. I'm pretty sure intersex is when a person is born as one sex but then hormones or other things make them into another, whereas transgender is when a person chooses to have changed to their body. This is a very basic explanation of something very complicated. I could be wrong about this.

I've run into this problem myself with the character of Sapphire from the Princess Knight manga series who was born with a man's heart that gave her attributes of a man. She didn't seem to mind being called a man, but I wasn't sure if that was due to identity. So it can be kinda hard sometimes. Sorry I don't really know if I can give an answer but from my experience, there were some people in the fandom referring to Sapphire as trans, gender fluid, intersex... and nobody really seems mad about others interpretation. But this could just be to a smaller community. I think regardless of what you say there are obviously going to be people against it, but I'm personally not offended.

#trans #intersex #scp #princess knight

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