#but everyone else focuses on the fact that I'm trans

[therealbeachfox]

Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

00000

There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

00000

When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

#gay marriage #gay rights #gay history #gay

[gayrika]

reposting this bc i thought it was really sweet

edit: added an ID by @starberry-skies <3

[Image Decription. A Reddit post labeled as "Discussion", with the title: "Splatoon and LGBT". The post reads:

What about splatoon makes it such a common place to find LGBT individuals? I feel like it's pretty often I'm seeing either gay or trans related community posts and it makes me think that it's pretty common in the community. I'm curious as to why...

The post ends there. A reply by AwfulDjinn reads:

in addition to what everyone else mentioned (the lack of voice chat, the more gender neutral character designs esp in Splat3, etc) I think a big part of it is the way the whole vibe of the series really focuses on self expression and being true to oneself. there's this whole sort of theme of "do what you want, wear what you want, all that matters is that you're Fresh, and Freshness is just a state of mind"

that really resonates with LGBT+ people for obvious reasons that and the fact that it's explicitly a future, post apocalyptic setting... but a very bright and hopeful one? humanity is gone, but our dreams still live on, and they're trying to fix what humanity got wrong and be better than we were. when you're a marginalized person living in the modern world, that's a very comforting idea. that no matter how messed up and broken the world may get, there's always hope, and there's always people who want to make things better.

The reply has 773 upvotes and 8 awards.

/End ID]

#its like verry late and im verrrry tired but this epic reddit reply has me tearing up <3 yayayyayaya i love splatoon <3 <3 #splatoon #autoposting

[genderqueerdykes]

in honor of aromantic spectrum awareness week, i thought i'd take the time to talk about how much my personal life and feelings improved after coming to terms with the fact that i'm aromantic. before i accepted this, i found myself in several romantic relationships where i was deeply unhappy, uncomfortable, and made to feel like i wasn't a good enough partner because i just couldn't do or feel certain things.

i've never enjoyed kissing, and cuddling gets uncomfortable for me within the first few minutes of doing so. even hugs are deeply uncomfortable to me unless i really know and care about someone, and even then, hugs only come when that person asks for them. it never occurs to me to touch people this way, the most you'll get out of me is a pat on the shoulder, back or knee.

i ended up dating several people who were very much romantics, and heavily focused on that aspect of our relationship. it kind of felt like torture to me, i felt like i was being forced to live every day like it was Valentine's Day- every day had to be filled with hours of cuddling, kissing, and telling the other person how much i loved them. while not all romantic partners are like this, it wore on my psyche quickly to be paired with folks like this, because i understood how important it was to them, but i just couldn't keep up the performance.

i thought something was "wrong" with me for years and that i just wasn't in touch with my emotions, or that i was somehow embracing some toxic aspects of my masculinity without realizing. it took me ages to remember that i came out as aromantic when i was much younger, but after criticism from my friends, including a friend who was asexual, i stopped identifying with the label, because i was told that aromanticism wasn't real, and that that just made me an asshole.

nearly a decade and several uncomfortable romantic relationships later, it finally clicked that there wasn't something wrong with me, but there was something wrong with the situations i was getting myself into. sure, i love being partnered- i have a queerplatonic partner that i've known for a decade and have only gotten closer to over time. but we've never been romantic. we don't exchange romantic platitudes, and i realized; i've never been happier with someone else than i am with this person.

why is that?

oh. because they don't expect romance from me. they are also on the aspectrum and don't have a romantic partner, either.

this relationship has brought me more joy than any romantic partnership i've ever attempted to pursue. that doesn't mean there's something wrong with me- i was just looking for happiness in the wrong places. i was miserable not because i'm aromantic, but because i was getting into romantic relationships.

romance can be a source of misery. romance does not inherently make everyone happy. we are not all looking for romance as a species. in fact, chasing it makes many people miserable. too many people spend their lives looking for "the one" that they can kiss, cuddle, hold and say all of those mushy things to when they may not even want that to begin with.

i've never been more at peace with myself since finally, fully accepting that i'm aromantic. i love who i am, and i love how i love. i am not loveless, i experience platonic, queerplatonic and other forms of love. but loveless aromantics aren't miserable, either. we are all embracing ourselves in a way that's true to us. we are refusing to warp ourselves to a society that tells us that we all must have homogeneous feelings.

i am aromantic. i am here. my aromanticism is queer in a society that expects and demands romance of me, and this is true of all aromantics, cis, trans, gay, straight, bisexual, asexual, and otherwise. we are here, we are not going away any time soon, and we will not be silent because our identities make some people uncomfortable. we are happiest being who we are.

happy aro week, this goes out to every last arospectrum person out there, appreciate yourselves this week. you deserve it.

#aromantic #aro #lgbtqia #lgbt #queer #lgbta #aromantic spectrum #arospec #arospectrum #aroace #aromantic asexual #aro awareness week #aspectrum #aspec #our writing #about us

[otakusheep15]

OMG FRUITS BASJET?!

Could you do a kyo x male reader?

I have had the fattest crush on him since elementary school LMAO

Anyways could it be like reader never knew kyo could turn into a cat, so when he sees kyo turn into a cat and just instantly feels his heartstrings tug. He starts cuddling with kyo's cat from till he turns back into his human form, but reader didn't know he becomes naked when he turns back so he starts freaking out about it lol.

I'm sorry if I butcher this shit up and if my English is bad and you don't understand my point. English is my first language but I get very nervous with sending in request so I feel like I butcher shit up lol.

Hi! I am so sorry for how long it took me to answer this!! I'll make it extra long just to make up for it. Thanks for being patient! ^^

Kyo Sohma x Male Reader

Okay, so, I actually love the thought of queer relationships between the zodiac. It's always been very cute to me, plus it would save them from turning into an animal when they want affection.

Also, for these headcanons, let's just say that trans men/transmascs don't have any effect so that it stays inclusive! (I know Fruits Basket isn't the most trans-inclusive, but we're ignoring that)

Anyway, this would most likely take place before you two start dating. I doubt he'd be the type to commit to a relationship before revealing this part of himself. He's not good at this sort of thing.

So, right now, y'all are just friends. Most likely, you met at school. You're in the same class, or you met through one of his cousins/Tohru.

At first, he avoided you. It had nothing to do with you in particular - he just hates being social. Eventually, you do manage to interact with him, and he decides you're chill enough to be around. So you two become friends.

One day, you, Kyo, Tohru, and Yuki are hanging out outside of school. This is the first time you've hung out with them outside of school, so this is new territory for you. Specifically, the four of you went to the library to study for an upcoming test.

You sat in a back corner, away from everyone else. Tohru had gotten up to go grab a book, but she tripped over the leg of the chair. Kyo was sitting next to her, and he's the one she falls into. Suddenly, there's a puff of smoke, and when it clears, you see Tohru holding an orange cat, and Kyo is nowhere to be seen.

Tohru and Yuki look panicked, and you're confused. The two of them scramble to come up with some kind of explanation, but all you can think about is how adorable the cat is. You assume it's Kyo, although you couldn't explain what happened.

Tohru had put Kyo down by this point, and he walks across the table to get to you. His eyes have the same deadpan look they usually do, which is funnier in his cat form. Sensing no hostility from you, Yuki and Tohru are able to calm down a little bit, and Yuki is able to get a proper explanation out. You process only some of his words, too focused on how cute Kyo looks.

Without much thought, you scoop him up in your arms, gently holding him close. Kyo makes a startled noise, but doesn't struggle too much. Yuki looks amused as he ushers Tohru away, intent on giving you two some alone time.

Kyo asks you what you think you're doing, and you're shocked he can still speak in this form. You shyly explain that you just thought he looked cute, and your body kind of just moved on its own. You go to put him down, but he doesn't budge from your arms. It's barely audible, but you swear you heard him say something about him enjoying the embrace. You chuckle at that as you hold him tighter. If you listen closely, you can almost hear him purring softly.

Then, another puff of smoke appears. When it dissipates, you see Kyo standing in front of you, back to his regular human form. Except for the fact that he's completely naked. You turn away, flustered that you saw him in such a state. Kyo also turns around, tripping over himself as he looks for his clothes. Neither of you speak a word, and it's around this time that Yuki and Tohru make their return.

Yuki still looks amused by the situation, choosing to tease Kyo. Tohru is immediately flustered, still not used to seeing the boys after they transform back. As the boys continue fighting, Tohru comes up to you, asking if you're okay. She knows from personal experience that this kind of situation can be startling, so she wants to make sure that you're feeling alright. When you respond in the affirmative, she smiles.

Kyo and Yuki stop bickering, and Kyo is fully dressed once again. He can't quite make eye contact with you, but he does apologize for what happened, if in his own tsundere way. You laugh a bit, explaining that you're fine, just a bit shocked at what just happened. The three nod, as they can all understand how you feel.

By this point, none of you are in the mood for studying anymore, so you decide to pack up for the night. As you walk out of the library, you turn away from them, as your home is in the opposite direction of where they live. However, you feel something grab your hand, and when you turn to look, you see Kyo. He's still not making eye contact, and his face is a little red, but his grip on your hand is strong.

Quietly, he asks if he can walk you home. You're shocked, and you can hear Tohru cheering in the background as Yuki tries to silence her. After a moment to recover from the shock, you smile and him and squeeze his hand, accepting his offer. He makes eye contact with you for the first time since the incident, and you can see a small smile appear on his face. He tells the others that he'll meet them at home, and you're on the way to your house.

As you walk, Kyo explains everything in as much detail as he can. He leaves out all of his family drama, as that's a story for another day, but he does bring up his curse and how it works. You jokingly remark that he wouldn't transform with you, since you're both boys, and he laughs a bit at that. He gestures to your hands, still interlocked, and states that even holding hands with a girl would cause him to transform. That makes you laugh as well.

Soon you're back home, and he drops you off at your door. He squeezes your hand one last time before letting it go, and he asks if you'd like to hang out again, to which your agree. You do make one more sly comment about wanting to see him as a cat again, telling him that he looked oh so adorable. He groans, but it's all in good humor. He leaves, already thinking of plans for next time.

The two of you don't start dating right away. It takes more time, but this is the first major step. Also, he's willing to be more affectionate with you because he knows he won't transform. It's nothing more than hand-holding on leaning against you for right now, but when you do start dating, he gets very clingy, especially in public.

You don't get to see him transform that often since you don't cause any of his transformations, but when you do get to see it, it's always a treat. He gets so flustered when he transforms, and it worsens when he transforms back to human. You've gotten used to the nakedness after the first few times, but he never quite does, especially when you're around. It's cute.

#fruits basket #kyo sohma #fruits basket x reader #fruits basket x male reader #kyo sohma x reader #kyo sohma x male reader #tohru honda #yuki sohma #headcanons #fruits basket headcanons #fluff #fruits basket fluff #x reader #x male reader

[elijahlittle]

I have been scouring this fucking app for Julian fics, never really occurred to I can just request some lol.

So yeah, if you're up for it I've got a little plot/trope set up that'd id love to see. Outsider(fem)reader/julian.

Something along the lines of a reader moving into the park from the southern us, new to Canada and parks in general. As an outsider, Julian expected you to be trouble or judgemental, so he acts like a dick to you at first. Later on, he starts to see instead how kind you are to everyone, understanding and totally up for doing ppl favors even when there's nothing for you in the end. This makes him feel real guilty for bein an ass to you, and also makes him start to feel other things towards u.. Take the fic in whatever direction you'd I wanna see u work ur magic

( + no pressure 2 write it ofc!!)

pairing: julian/fem!reader fandom: trailer park boys tags: smut (cis man/cis woman), fluff, a bit of angst, idk this is one of my more normal ones, heavy plot some porn (i kind of felt more plot focused with this one), julian is kind of hung (he gives me big dick energy)  author's note: i'm much more of a ricky kinda guy myself but when i got this request, i got really fucking excited. i loved the idea. i will say, this fic isn't structured traditionally. it's very dialogue heavy and kind of leaves some things up to the imagination. i wanted to establish relationships between the reader and other people in the park as well as share some of julian's private conversations about her. i'm really proud of the way this has turned out, though i'm sorry if it's not the interpretation you might have been hoping for (i'm a little insecure about the way i interpret storylines). i hope you like it, though. i worked hard on it and i'm pretty sure it's the longest julian/reader fic currently on the internet so i'm going to take that fucking win rn. also, i actually live in the southern united states. (fun fact: i'm looking to move because i'm a trans man and life here is kind of ass if you're trans), so i gave the reader a backstory that's kind of unique to what a woman in 1999-2000 would have gone through. i'm not satisfied with the ending though, i'm sorry if this fic is a little lackluster, but we can only go up from here i guess. text blocking this shit was a fucking BITCH. word count: 6,442

everything i've ever let go of has claw marks on it.

The cultural climate of Sunnyvale Trailer Park wasn't exactly the most inviting. There were people who lived in the park and then there was everyone else. For the most part, newcomers never lasted more than a few weeks. The bottle kids drove away the weakest among them, but if those kids weren't effective usually Ricky's antics drove away the remaining lot. Sure, there were a few people here and there who moved in quietly, but those were usually the kind of people that minded their own business because lot rent was low enough for them to just ignore Lahey.

But in general, new people were not welcome. Especially know-it-all hipsters trying to live the simple life by casting away their possessions in an expensive storage unit and downsizing to a more humble trailer. Those were the kinds of guys that gave up quickly. Plus, new people threatened the balance of park politics. For the most part, Julian was well-liked and well-respected among the others due to his caring nature and dedication to his loved ones. He protected his own. And if there was one thing Julian didn't like, it was newcomers coming into the park without already knowing someone in it.

"Barb, I really think you should reconsider letting this girl in. I mean, you don't even know who she is." 

"Julian, this is a business, not a family estate. Her credit was just below decent, she has an okay-paying job, and paid three months of rent in advance. From a business perspective, she seems like she'll be a reliable tenant. It's a good thing you've grown close with your community, but you have to remember at the end of the day, this trailer park is here to make money. Whatever fit of paranoia you're suffering through, deal with it on your own time. Next time you come here with a complaint, make sure it's a business one." 

And just like that, Barb had shooed Julian off. What more could he say to that? Well, he had a lot more to say to that but she didn't want to listen. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, she only guided him further to the door. If Julian thought he was the one who ran this trailer park, he had another thing coming for him that's what. This dump needed more reliable tenants - normal folks who didn't like to get into trouble. Barb was trying to turn the park's image around.

"Julian, I just don't understand why you're so against this lady stayin' here. You know I'm no fan of newcomers myself, but she's been mindin' her own. She actually keeps her yard clean, which is pretty fuckin' nice if you ask me. It's nice to pass a yard that doesn't have a million fuckin' pieces of trash thrown all over the front. She even has one of those pink fuckin' yard flamingos in her yard. It's so bright and colorful. There ain't nothin' wrong with a little bit of color, Julian. Ain't nothin' wrong with a little bit of change." 

"Are you even listening to yourself talk Bubbles? Can you hear what you're saying? You're saying change for this park is good. Who knows what she believes in. She might hate dope growers, she may be workin' with Lahey, she could get nosy and bust us for dope and you know Ricky and I are growin' a lot of dope -" 

"- I know, I've seen that big fuckin' setup you got in that fuckin' trailer in that shitty little lot -" 

"- so then Bubbles you should know that new people aren't good. We can't trust new people, especially not now. Especially not when we're so close to selling them to those prison guards and retiring. A stranger could compromise the whole thing. Remember those bible scammers that came through here? I've learned my lesson since then and I'm not tryna repeat old mistakes." 

"Jesus Murphy Julian, you need to calm down. Those fuckin' assholes were obviously scammers, it's not like this lady is goin' door to door scammin' people." 

"Sure maybe she's not taking advanced orders on bibles Bubbles, but she is goin' in and out of everyone's house doin' favors for them. Why does she need to see the inside of everyone's house? Do you think she's lookin' for something?" 

"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe she's just a nice person doin' a nice thing? Nice people exist. You've been dealin' with dope and crime and jail so much that it's like you forgot how to trust someone. All you think about is dope and how you're going to protect it from everyone else." 

"You're only defendin' her because she brings you boxes of canned cat foods for your cats. She's buyin' you off and you don't even know it." 

"So what if she's helpin' me take care of my kitties? My kitties are the most important things to me and unlike you, she fuckin' knows that. If someone's offering to help take care of my precious little kitties, who the fuck am I to say no?" 

"Bubbles, look -" 

"No, no, nevermind." Bubbles tucks a gray cat further into his arms, his posture becoming more rigid. It's clear that he's done with the conversation, no longer interested in trying to hammer commonsense into Julian's brain. He couldn't see past his own paranoia and it was infuriating. In Julian's mind, everyone in the world was out to get him - even the nice lady across the street who helped his friend support his kitties. "You just don't get it, Julian. I'm goin' back home, come talk to me when you get it." 

Julian was still convinced he was right about this girl. If the bottle kids didn't run you out, he'd just take matters into his own hands. He didn't care whether or not Bubbles helped. Julian was a man of many connections, and even if he couldn't find someone else to get the job done he had no qualms with taking care of the situation himself.

"I mean, if you think that lady's dangerous then you know I'm gonna follow you Julian 'cause you got the brains and stuff behind the projector, but I just gotta let you know I'm still workin' on my grade ten so whatever idea you have you got to make sure it's not illegal 'cause I can't go back to jail, not right before Trinity's birthday. That means we can't do any property damage or breaking and entering or any shit like that." 

"I promise you Ricky we're not gonna go back to jail, we're just gonna annoy the shit out of her until she leaves. I was thinkin' maybe you and Cory and Trevor could host like a really loud party across the street tomorrow night, you know - something to keep her awake. If we get a noise complaint, we'll just shut it down, but then once the cops leave we'll start it back up again. We'll do this for a few nights until she finally decides to move out." 

"That's a pretty fucking good idea, that's smart. Plus, since it's a party we can get drunk and high."

It's 2 a.m. and that fucking party is still going. There were several times you considered calling in a noise complaint but you decided that it was a better idea to just wait it out. It had to end at some point and overall, it was never a good idea to get involved with parties like that because sometimes they got out of a hand, and you were too smart to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Though when you stepped outside to 'check your mailbox' - spy on the party still going on into the early hours of the morning - you find yourself tripping over something. You stumble onto your hands and knees and it's only when you pull yourself up do you really get a good look at the man passed out by your mailbox. It's Ricky, and he's mumbling things almost incoherently. He mutters something about dope, bitches, Trinity, more bitches, Lucy, and good booze. It's a pathetic way to be, but you can't help but feel bad for you.

You use the toe of your shoe to rock his face awake. Ricky sputters before waking up in a drunk panic. He's angry and yelling incoherently, but your promise of a hot shower and a hot sandwich satiates his anger. He struggles his way through a shower, though almost slips a few times. He eats hand to mouth, chewing loudly, and drunk conversation ensues. He shares a lot with you - stuff he probably wouldn't have shared sober. He eventually passes out, not remembering much in the morning. That morning you share breakfast and a little bit about each other. He tried to hate you, he really did, but you were charismatic in a friendly way. There weren't any ulterior motives, you just enjoyed conversation.

"I don't know Julian, she seems fine to me. I mean, she's not all that bad. Her yard is pretty clean and you know, she has that pink little flamingo in her yard and honestly it's pretty fuckin' cute. I mean yeah she's kinda annoying and I hate that fuckin' southern fuckin' cowboy accent she fucking has but whatever. I think you're gettin' worked up over nothin'. You've been so busy tryna push out this lady who hasn't done nothin' wrong to you while I'm over here slavin' away watchin' after these fuckin' dope plants and tryin' to study for my grade ten all while play peepin' tom spy guy on some poor fuckin' lady." 

"You're just saying that 'cause she let you spend the night and made you breakfast."

"You know what I sure as fuck I am! She made me breakfast and kept me from sleepin' on the fuckin' ground drunk as piss and let me use her shower and shit and I didn't even have to put out! It's not like I trust her or anything like that - I didn't talk about dope or nothin' like that at all." That was the truth. "It's just at this point anything is better than fucking Cory and Trevor. I'm not sayin' you gotta like her or trust her, but she's not all that bad Julian. Maybe if you actually got to fuckin' know her like I have you'd see that you're just being a paranoid dickbag." 

"You know what Ricky, you don't anything about her. You're just seeing what she wants you to see. But I'm smart, so I see right through it -" 

"Come on Julian don't be like that -" 

"- and since nobody is going to take care of this fucking situation then I guess I'll have to." 

Julian felt like everyone around him was failing him. Nobody else seemed to feel the same way he did about your existence in the trailer park. As each day passed, Julian grew more overtly snide. When approaching Ricky and Bubbles, Julian never took the time to acknowledge you. It was obvious that he was just being an ass, so you opted to ignore it, preferring not to fight. Silence was Julian's strongest weapon. But as the days ticked by, the tension between you and Julian only seemed to mount itself higher.

It's not like you inherently disliked Julian. In fact, you liked to believe that there was good in everyone and you prided yourself in your ability to be able to pull even the toughest people out of their shell. However, Julian was no easy project. Every time you tried to approach him, he simply brushed you off. You weren't even sure that the two of you had even exchanged any greetings. He hadn't even said hello. So when trying to talk to him didn't work, you simply tried to stay out of his way. This was frustrating for Julian because what he wanted you to do was to blow up and make it a big ordeal. But you didn't. You simply kept to yourself and resumed helping others around the park without complaints. 

There were times where Julian thought about approaching you in the way Julian thinks about approaching any pretty thing in a summer dress that talks to him. But he remains strong in the face of adversity. Gone were the days of chasing anything in a dress. He had a dope business to worry about.

But sometimes the thought would creep up onto Julian ever so slowly. Sometimes, he'd get this kind of fantasy in his head - especially on the Sunday afternoons you'd spend gently pushing yourself back and forth in your rocking chair, enjoying the summer sunlight. He could think of a million ways you two could enjoy the afternoon together, but he often pushed the thought out of his head. He had a park to protect. Friends to protect.

"You know, you have some real nerve comin' up here in this trailer park and putting on a show like you're doing." 

You look up from the rocking chair you were gently pushing yourself back and forth in and offer Julian a small smile.

"So you're Julian?"

Julian can't help but be a bit enamored with your slight southern drawl. It sounds like you're somewhere from the deep southern United States - one of those more rural provinces like Texas or Alabama. He can't quite pinpoint the accent, but he secretly finds it endearing.

"And how do you know that?" 

"I mean, with how much you do for the people here it's kind of hard not to know who you are. Plus, Ricky and Lucy both never seem to shut up about you. You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say they're both in love with you or something. Also, yesterday you came to pick up Ricky and he pointed right at you and said well, there's Julian, see ya later. I just put two and two together." 

"I'm not here to make small talk, (name)." 

"Then what are you here to do, Julian?" 

There's silence. What is he here to do. There wasn't anything that he could reasonably do and he wasn't the terrorizing type if he didn't have to be. Fuck, he had even promised that his greasy trouble-causing days were over. But here he was, standing at the edge of the patio stairs, contemplating whether or not he should threaten a woman.

"I'm just here to ask you about your intentions with Ricky, that's all." 

You can't help but laugh out loud at the comment. "Oh, please. There's nothing going on between us." 

Julian knows that because if there was something going on between you and Ricky, Ricky wouldn't shut up about it and the whole park would know. But he's trying to be covert about his intent to interrogate you.

"Yeah, well . . . there better not be . . . Ricky's a good guy and I'd really hate to see him get hurt . . ." 

"Why are you really here, Julian?" 

Julian stands in silence, thoughtfully cradling his glass in his hand as he tries to come up with a clever lie - but it's hard to think when he catches a glimpse of your thighs pressed together underneath your thin summer dress. He squints and then looks away briefly.

"I just wanted to stop by and tell you more about the culture of Sunnyvale. You know, we're really tight-knit. Like family."

"I know." 

"And you know, family protects family." 

"I know." 

"And you know, I'd do anything for my family." 

"I know." 

"Anything." 

"What are you getting at?" 

"I'm not getting at anything, (name). I'm just givin' you a little more info about our park, just trying to get acquainted with you." 

"Oh, you're trying to get acquainted with me? This is the first time I've spoken to you in the month I've been living here." 

"Well, you know, I was busy with the business I'm running -" 

"- that lawn mowing business you and Ricky got?" 

Is that what Ricky is calling it? "Yeah, we've had a lot of customers so I've been having to do a lot of bookwork to keep up with the business you know. But it's been busy, so I haven't had time to talk, but now I do and I want to get to know you." 

"You want to get to know me?" 

"That's what I just said isn't it?" 

"Well I'll tell you what Julian," You push the chair backwards in thought, looking up at the bright summer sky. The sun shines in your face, warming your skin. It's a nice feeling. "If you really want to get to know me, you'll come over for dinner tonight." 

Julian wasn't going to admit it but he was excited at the prospect of dinner. The last time he shared time - much less a meal - with a woman, she ended up stealing his dope plants and lying to him about being in love. In all fairness, most people would have been wary of someone saying I love you within the first week of getting to know them, but Julian (for the most part) was a hopeless romantic. He liked the idea of a life with someone else. 

Julian told himself that this was strictly business - that he was here to set the record straight. This wasn't get-to-know-you dinner, this wasn't a date. He was just here to let you know that he wasn't going to tolerate funny business. He just happened to be wearing his nicest clean black shirt and he just happened to be wearing one of his nicer pair of jeans - the ones that didn't have the holes in them. Julian knocks on your door. The two minutes he waits for you to answer feels like an eternity but when you open the door, he's glad he's waited. 

"You got a hot date you're going to after this?" 

"What, this?" You look down at the pink summer dress you're wearing, "This is casual." You had always been the more feminine type, enjoying softer clothes and pretty dresses. Plus, unlike jeans dresses were more comfortable. You usher him inside and he obliges, being careful to not spill his drink when he steps in. 

"Dinner is served." Dinner being a massive fucking bowl of macaroni and cheese with cheap ass hot dogs. "Sorry it's not exactly the best, but -"

"It's fine, don't worry about it." Julian sets his glass down. He's actually ecstatic. Macaroni and cheese and fucking hotdogs? "You know, I don't know where you're from but around here this is a five-star meal." 

You give a dry laugh. as Julian picks up his fork to eat. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm kind of new to the whole trailer park life and the whole being poor thing." 

"Oh yeah? Where are you from?" 

"Southern United States." 

"What state?" 

"Texas." 

"That's a long way from here, basically on the other side of the continent. Why'd you come up this way?" Julian tells himself that he's not trying to get to know you because he's interested in you - he's trying to get to know you to get dirt on you, to know what he's up against. 

"I needed an abortion." You answer dryly, "And even though it's been legal for some years now, no physician was wiling to perform one on me." 

"Why come to Nova Scotia? Why not just go to another state?" 

"Well, I figured things were just better here than they were there. Don't get me wrong, it's not perfect by any means but it's better than where I was from. At least here I know if I need the service again, it's a little more reliably accessible. Plus, it's not like I had anywhere or anyone I could turn to. So I just kind of . . . stayed." 

"Heavy stuff." Julian sets down his fork, "Didn't have any family to turn to?" 

"No, and even if I did they're not the kind of people I'd want to be around." 

Julian could relate to that.

"So you just came to Canada for an abortion and then decided to stay? You know, when Americans come to Canada they want to go to Quebec. Nova Scotia isn't exactly on the top of the list, let alone Dartmouth. Let alone fucking Sunnyvale Trailer Park. Nobody just moves in here. Come on, (name) . . . what's the real reason why you're staying here?" 

Your mouth runs dry as you consider answering him honestly. "Well, uh . . . you know . . ." You twiddle your thumbs a bit, "I came to Canada with my passport and got my abortion and then . . . I just uh . . ." There's a long pause as your appetite disappears completely. "I didn't have anywhere to go to so I just . . . never left . . . this place was the only place that'd rent to an illegal resident . . ." 

"Holy fuck you don't have your papers?" Julian wasn't sure what kind of story he was expecting but it wasn't that. Now he feels like an asshole. "How did you get a job? How did you even afford this place?" 

"Well, I had some savings so that was a good cushion, but when that ran out I was able to find a job working as a waitress at that little restaurant just out of town. I'm not technically on the payroll, they just don't make me report my tips, and any extra money is kind of . . . earned under the table." You respond sheepishly.

God, Julian feels like such a fucking jackass for being a raging asshole to you. 

"That's . . . hard." Julian doesn't really know what else to say.

"Yeah." 

"Well, I've shared my deepest darkest secret with you. Do you want to share anything with me?" 

You and Julian talk well into the early hours of the morning, swapping life stories, funny anecdotes, and talking about all of the small things in between. Honestly, he feels at ease with you in a way he hasn't felt at ease before. The conversation flows naturally and even the silence you occasionally fall into feels comfortable. It's nearly two in the morning when you both look at the small clock hanging on your wall and realize the time.

". . . well, it's a little late . . ." You stretch in your chair, still sitting across the table from Julian. You don't really want him to go, but you've both run out of things to talk about and you still have some errands you have to run before work tomorrow. "You know, I have some things I gotta do tomorrow . . . but if you're feeling nice, maybe you can pay me back for dinner by making some for me. I'm usually too tired to cook when I get home . . . you know, only if you want to." 

It's hard for Julian to say no to that face.

"What time do you get off work?"

. . .

Julian continues to insist that he doesn't feel some kind of way, that he's just taking the opportunity to really get to know you - you know, in case you ever pose a threat - but the nightly dinner-dates seem to differ. 

"Why is it so hard to admit that you have a hard-on for (name)? It's so fucking obvious." 

"It's not like that Ricky. You know, I have somewhere to be so why don't you just fuck off and give me some fucking space?" 

"Oh yeah I know exactly where you want to be, all up in -" 

The truth of the matter was that even though Julian fantasized about it at night, truly nothing had happened. You were sweet, kind, intelligent, patient, compassionate - a truly wonderful person. And that was the problem. Normally, Julian found himself happy to jump into a relationship, but he found himself afraid of making a fool of himself. Guys like him didn't get with girls like you. Simple as that. Besides, love just wasn't in the cards for Julian. It just never worked out like that.

Tonight was yet another night of disappointment. You had lingered on Julian's doorstep after dinner, hoping that maybe he'd make a move and at least give you a kiss goodnight - but the two of you simply stood there awkwardly until he nodded, saying he was probably going to go off to bed now. It was frustrating because you thought you were sending all of the right signals. Light touches, flirtatious giggles, risque comments - the works. But yet again, you find yourself leaving empty-handed. It wasn't that you weren't satisfied with the friendship, you really liked the dynamic the two of you had. You liked that Julian showed you ways to save money, ways to spruce up the trailer home so it felt more roomy, showed you around town a bit - but it left you feeling a bit stupid because you could have sworn the two of you had something more. You could just feel it. But he never addressed it and it drove you crazy. 

You knock on the door nervously, your hands shaking.

Julian answers the door again. "What's going on?" 

"I don't want to go home just yet. This is about the time J-Roc films his adult films. Can I just sit here for thirty more minutes? He usually finishes up around one in the morning or so." 

"Uh, yeah, sure, come on in. You can hang out here. I have to shower because, you know, I got somewhere to be in the morning -" Tomorrow was the day he was supposed to drop off the product with the prison guards, "- normally I'd wait up but I got some important stuff I gotta take care of tomorrow. I'm about to get ready for bed, so you can just leave whenever you're ready."

"Alright." 

You find yourself sitting awkwardly on the couch as Julian disappears into the bathroom. The trailer shakes a bit when he turns on the water and you can hear the pipes rush before the water falls like rain into the tub. You sit in silence and contemplate. You couldn't keep going back and forth like this, it'd get nowhere. He had hinted a few times at maybe having feelings. Sometimes his hand would linger on the small of your back too long when he was moving past you, or he'd stand too close to you - so close your shoulders would touch - whenever he got the chance. But nothing would ever come of it, and you were tired of it. You think about maybe joining him in the shower but that's too ballsy of a move, so you simply sit there and listen to the shower run until it's turned off. There's more shuffling and you can hear him go into his room. The hallway light turns off and the door clicks close. You should probably get going by now, but you can't bring yourself to just leave.

. . .

You feel like a psychopath drifting down the hallway. You only came down here to use the bathroom, but now you were standing at his bedroom door - contemplating whether or not you should knock on the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Ricky, is that you? I told you to stop picking my fucking lock -" 

"No," You answer meekly, "It's me. I uh, wanted to take that book back I lent you before I went home. I didn't see it in your living room so I figured you might be keeping it in here." 

Julian stares up at the ceiling in thought. Julian is pretty book-smart and it doesn't take a genius to know the game you're running. He's been down this road a thousand times. He wants to say yes, but there's still the lingering fear of ruining the good friendship that's already there.

Julian turns his head to look at his nightstand, the small paperback book sat there. Shit, maybe you weren't playing any games.

"Yeah, give me a moment, I'll come bring it to you." 

"You don't have to go through that trouble, I'll just come get it real quick . . . if that's alright with you." 

". . . that's alright with me." 

You gently push the door open, slipping through before gently closing the door behind you. You can only see the outline of Julian's body in the dark, a few shadows illuminated by the moonlight that drifts in through the blinds. 

"It's right over here." You see the shadow of Julian's hand reach over and grab the thick book. Infinite Jest.

"I'll come get it." You pull yourself up onto the bed, you're knees on either side of his feet. Gently, you shimmy your way up, crawling over him on your hands and knees. Julian shifts a bit. Both of your breaths are heavy and as you sit yourself comfortably on his waist, you watch his chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. Gently, you pluck the book from his hand. "Thank you." 

"You're welcome." Julian's voice is barely over a whisper.

You thumb through the thick book, landing on a page barely illuminated by the moonlight, reading the page you've thumbed to. "Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it." Truer words have never been spoken. Like everything in life, Julian has sunk his fingernails so deep into it he's drawn blood. He likes to pretend he can let things go, but he can't. 

Julian's hands gently grip at your hips, squeezing them softly - almost like he's afraid that if he squeezes too tight he'll hurt you. His fingers grip at your waist, gently pushing your hips backwards, guiding them in a gentle rocking motion against him. Your hips follow the movement of his hands, rocking against him with a pleased hum.

"Is that right?" Julian asks in a whisper.

"That's right." You respond gently.

"Me included?" He can't hope that you want him so bad that you'd sink your nails so deep into him that he'd never be able to leave you, even if he wanted to. And even if you wanted to leave him, he'd probably stay around and beg for you to take him back anyway.

"If you'll let me." 

If he wasn't rock hard before he's rock fucking hard now. "I want you." Julian's voice is hoarse, completely contradicting his typically firm and masculine present. He melts under you. Whether he wanted to believe it or not, Julian was a romantic and the touch of a woman he really valued meant a lot to him. His breath is labored as he guides your hips against him, "Please, I want you." 

If this were someone else in the park, it'd be a different story. Sleeping around with people in the park for Julian wasn't about emotions, it was about releasing a physical need, and when you can't keep a boyfriend sometimes you have to turn to your neighbors for some help. Everyone slept with everyone. But you're not them, this isn't just casual for Julian - he doesn't want to fuck it up. He shudders when your fingertips drag across his chest, tracing patterns and circles into his shirt as you rock against him, grinding your hips downwards to create more friction. You're a tease, you take your time, and he hates it but he loves it. Two large hands reach up to cup your breasts over your shirt gently, His hands trail downwards, over your abdomen, grabbing gently at your stomach for a short moment before finding themselves at the hem of your shirt. 

"What are you waiting for?" You ask him between small breaths, still making rhytmic riding motions. It's a softly-asked question but also a plea for action. "Please, Julian. I've wanted this since the moment I saw you." 

"God, fuck you're so fucking hot." It's like a flip switched in his head and he can't hold himself back anymore. Strong hands placed firmly on your hips flip you onto your back. Now he's on top of you, every part of him everywhere. His lips touch yours in a kiss, teeth pull at the skin of your neck, and tongue sooths the freshly bruised areas by rubbing itself on it in small circles. Like always, he can't help himself, and unlike recently, he stops wasting time.

Your shirt is the first thing to come off - Julian helps shimmy it off of you, throwing it to the side. The next thing to come off is your pajama pants, which he also tosses to the side after helping shimmy it off of you. He has half a mind to compliment the pretty color of your underwear and tell you it looks good on you, but he doesn't pay it any mind since it's about to come off anyways. His hands lift you up by the small of your back just long enough for him to unclasp your bra, letting you fall back down onto the bed. His hands hook underneath your knees, lifting them up and pushing your legs up so he can help slide your underwear easily off of your body. You're left naked under him while he remains fully clothed, lowering himself onto you before you can complain that he hasn't undressed yet.

His thumbs roll against your nipples, gently pinching and pulling at them before taking them into his mouth. Julian has never been the most gentle lover, especially when he gets excited, always eager to take matters into his own hands - but that's part of his appeal.

Kisses trail down your stomach, followed by him dragging his tongue along the skin, pushing your legs apart. He takes his time adorning your inner thighs with kisses, sucking on the skin and taking it between his teeth. He likes the way he makes you whimper and moan, it's intoxicating. But eventually the teasing becomes too much even for him, he's growing impatient, so he lends his tongue to you, circling it around your clit, strong nose pressed into sensitive skin.

Your body writhes as you feel a familiar pressure build in your abdomen, thighs tightening around his head so tight he thought he might suffocate. What a way to go that would be. Your fingers curl into his short hair, gripping and pulling at his hair while your toes curl. You whimper but that only encourages him to slowly push his thick index finger into you, followed by a second after you properly adjusted. His mouth and fingers work in tandem, his fingers curling and pressing inside of you in a come hither motion while his tongue continues to stroke your clit.

"Fuck, Julian, god, fuck -" But before you can climax, he's gone - pulling away. If Julian enjoys anything, it's edging. There's just something about bringing a woman to climax and leaving them nearly in tears that turns him on. 

"You look disappointed." Julian catches a glimpse of your lopsided frown illuminated in the moonlight, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." His shirt is pulled over his head, exposing his bare chest. When you touch the muscle, it's firm from years of consistent working-out. You trace a tattoos that look like they were done with a sewing needle and ink - probably stick and poke tattoos - but Julian frowns. He doesn't like those tattoos, he's not proud of them and he's not proud of his time spent in jail. But you only offer him an encouraging smile and place your palm over the tattoo before dragging your hand down to his belt, pulling at the buckle. Julian offers you a half-hearted smile. "Can't wait?"

Julian pushes your hand out of the way gently, taking his time to unfasten his belt and slowly pulling it through the loops. The belt is tossed to the side, along with his pants and underwear, leaving you both equals. Two hands hook themselves underneath your knees, placing your ankles on his shoulders while he uses his right hand to stroke his cock a bit, helping to harden himself up more. Sometimes the nerves just get to you.

"Holy fuck Julian you're big, you gotta be careful with that thing you're carrying a whole fucking concealed weapon -" 

Julian chuckles a bit at the comment but presses a gentle kiss to your ankles. "I'll be careful with you if that's what you're trying to say." 

The tip is pushed in slowly with great discomfort, pushing himself in. There's a stiff moment of silence as you let out a labored breath. 

"You good?" he asks.

You nod, dragging your teeth over your bottom lip. Julian takes his thumb against your bottom lip, peeling it out from underneath your teeth. His thumb drags your bottom lip down, exposing the inside of it before pushing his thumb into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his thumb, letting your tongue slide against the skin, sucking on the appendage as he pulls out just a bit, repositioning himself before he thrusts back in. Your body pushes upwards with the motion, head pressing against the headboard slightly. His thumb is still pressed in your mouth while his free hand keeps hooked underneath your knee, pushing it backwards so he can angle himself better - each thrust pushing itself deeper inside of you. Sweat coats his chest and runs down the side of his face, abdomen flexing the closer he gets to coming, but he restrains himself - wanting to ride it out for as long as he could. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." 

"Oh, God, Julian -" 

"Fuck, (name)." 

"Julian -" 

"(Name), (Name), (Name)." 

"I heard you did a real good job of running that girl out of the trailer park last night, Julian." 

"Hey, Barbara, why don't you fuck off?" 

#julian tpb #tpb julian #tpb ricky #trailer park boys #tpb #ricky lafeur #julian x reader #julian x reader tpb #tpb bubbles #tpb ricky and julian #ricky tpb #julian x you tpb #trailer park boys reader insert #tpb reader insert

[andiv3r]

So, I'm gonna talk about some trans things, periods, body hair & PCOS below the cut, because it's on the brain and I needed to get it out there. So scroll if you don't wanna read.

It's very likely that I'll be diagnosed with PCOS soon. I've already brought it up with my doctor, and she finds it very likely, given all the signs I'm displaying, that I have PCOS. The signs she focuses on especially are surrounding my menstruation¹, body hair², and voice³. This does not surprise me, given how much research I've done on PCOS in the past few months, and how with each new sentence I read, it was like a new piece of a puzzle clicking into place. Of course my mind never felt like a woman's mind, but my body never felt like it fit everyone else's definition of womanhood either, and until now, I didn't know why. I wasn't unhappy about it, but it was hard connecting with other afab people when I would describe things I experienced, and they would tell me that wasn't normal.

When my mom heard this, her initial reaction was not to believe it. She was reluctant to listen to even more information about my gender that didn't fit the idea she had of me when I was a child of a normal cisgender female. Now, her reaction is to think that maybe, if this is true, then the doctors can "fix" it, and "fix" me. She appears to be under the impression that if the doctors change the hormonal makeup of my physical body, it will somehow also change my mind about my being a trans man. This worried me.

I know that forcing me into hormone treatment is not something she can legally do, especially not while both I and my father would vehemently oppose it, given that it would be detrimental to my mental health to force to, essentially, transition opposite the way I want to. While thinking this over, though, and after assuaging my fears about my mother with the knowledge that she can't force me to transition that way, it hit me.

That would be a transition. Making my body into society's idea of a woman body would be a physical transition for me, because I do not currently present that way. My current hormonal makeup does not match that. So, what would that make me? Surely I'm not allowed to call myself intersex, right? More Googling occured. I had been told by multiple people that it wasn't okay to refer to PCOS as intersexism, or claim that it fell under the same umbrella, or for people with PCOS to claim the term 'intersex' for themselves, which is the only reason I hadn't been using it despite the fact that this term, I feel, accurately describes my experience trying to relate to the gender binary and how my body always felt like it fell outside of that.

So I think what I'm trying to say... or ask, rather... is, is it appropriation of intersexism to call having PCOS a variation of being intersex? Most articles I've read as of this point say no, and that if my relationship to my body surrounding this condition feels most accurately described by that term, then it's fine, but for some reason I crave the validation of the Tumblr people.

¹My periods are extremely irregular, both in length and in rate of occurence, and it could be anywhere between two weeks to five months between periods, and they can last anywhere between two days and a month.

²I have a mustache, sideburns, a hairy chest and abdomen, hair on my hands and feet, hair on my chin, and anywhere else hair grows, you can assume I have it there, and a lot of it.

³I have a natural voice, without training, that is more reminiscent of a boy who has just hit puberty than an afab person who hit puberty six years ago.

#pcos #intersex #transgender #transmasc #andiv3r rambles

[aman1taverna]

Hi, my name is Wren! I am an autistic asexual woman. I am American so most of my politics are centered on that fact, but I try to advocate for women in countries where systemic misogyny is more rampant as well. I will use tone indicators/tag potential triggers as requested. I made this blog so I could have a space to discuss my feelings and questions about various radical feminist ideas and what gender means in a space solely dedicated to doing so. Please interact if you have opinions you'd like to share/ you are interested in actual discussion! Please do not interact if you are unwilling to change your beliefs or even listen to others.

A lot of my beliefs would be considered socialist. I ♥️ poor people and also I think no one should be homeless or starve even if they're supposedly lazy.

I consider myself to have gender dysphoria as I often struggle with discomfort around my female body. My experiences are certainly different from everyone else's, and since the definition of gender dysphoria is not clearly defined some people would not consider me to fit the bill. I do not consider myself to have a gender identity; I am an adult female human. Presenting as a man would not help my dysphoria as for me it comes from a place of being uncomfortable with how I have been sexualized.

I support individual trans people's right to bodily autonomy and respect. I do not support the dismissal of biological sex and how it affects us.

Trans people are included in my feminism, particularly "afab" trans people. I am specifically focused on female liberation, not male issues, but I do not hate males. I agree with a lot of radfem beliefs (especially about pornography, prostitution, and beauty standards), although idk if I'd technically be considered one. I'm pretty inconsistent tagging-wise.

sorry if this was hard to read, I wanted to cover as much as I could, but feel free to ask questions!

#radfems please touch #gender critical #tirf #trans inclusive radical feminism #feminism #radfem #radical feminist safe #radfems please interact #female

[scarleteenconfidential]

Resources for Parents & Families of Trans/Gender-Variant Youth

Recently, I attended the Gender Spectrum Family Conference, which focuses on helping parents and caregivers understand and meet the needs of their transgender and gender-variant children.

One of the things that can be hard, when choosing to come out to parents, is the fact that you might feel like you have to educate them about gender issues, both on a general level and in terms of your own identity; this can make a process that might already feel overwhelming or stressful even harder to manage. Letting an organization that's dedicated to this sort of education do some of the work for you can take some of that weight off of your shoulders.

Also, it's helpful for parents to have their own source of support in handling a child's gender identity or transition. Of course, you're going to be the best expert in your own identity and what support you specifically need from your family and loved ones, but it might be a big help for everyone involved if you can connect them to some of these organizations, just so you don't have to do all of the heavy lifting with regards to getting everyone else on board.

This is all US-centric, I'm afraid, simply because that was the scope of the conference. Some of these are national organizations; others are based in and serve smaller areas, like a city or a state, but provide enough helpful information on their websites to be useful to a wider population.

Gender Spectrum: This is a Bay-Area-based group that provides a wide range of support to parents and caregivers of trans and gender-variant youth, including information about medical, legal, and education options. They provide local in-person support, but they have a lot of information online and provide support by phone as well. Having been to the Family Conference, I would certainly recommend it to parents who want to get a lot of in-depth information on how to access and provide support.

PFLAG: Not all PFLAG chapter groups are equally educated about trans issues, but at the top level it’s an extremely supportive group; this is a great resource for parents who need their own support. There are chapters across the US and the central organization has a lot of good basic, introductory information online. This could be a great resource especially for parents who might feel like they need extra support.

Trans Youth Family Allies: This site has information and resources for trans youth and parents; the parent resources include basic introductory information, help navigating medical transition and transition at school, and some tips on how to be an ally and advocate for trans youth. Some of their resources are available in Spanish as well as English.

Trans Active: An education and advocacy group for trans youth and their families based out of Portland, Oregon. They provide educational trainings for schools, hospitals, and other organizations, have several in-person support groups, run a binder-exchange program, and have an active mailing list. They are doing work currently to expand their in-person services outside of the Portland/Pacific NW area.

Trans Youth Education and Support: An advocacy group based in Colorado; they've done a lot of work on safer school programs and have also worked on a PFLAG advisory committee to ensure that their trans support is as helpful as possible. They have meetings in-state but also have plenty of resources on their website as well.

Trans Youth Equality Foundation: An advocacy and support group based in Maine; they provide workshops, training, and support services for youth and families. Their website also has information on legal and medical issues, as well as social transition at school.

[freckliedan]

just u mentioned it in one of ur recent ask replies, whats a fagdyke /genq and how is it different to . a dyke (i am also a dyke LMAO)

quite earnestly i have no way of answering this for everyone who IDs as a fagdyke but i can answer for myself! for me (& many others, to my knowledge) it's a gender thing. the very short version is that my gender is both fag and dyke, the way some people's gender is dyke.

i first started both ID'ing as a nonbinary lesbian whose gender was just dyke & using they/them pronouns in 2018 (the same year i made this blog). for me the main part of my identity at that time was the lesbianism? being othered from womanhood was a result of my sexuality.

because like. a lot of cishet womanhood is shaped by being attracted to men and performing gender in a way that's attractive to men. i embodied neither of those things, which automatically disqualified me from many people's definition of womanhood. so i was nonbinary not because i identified away from my assigned gender but because the consensus definition no longer included me.

i embraced dyke as gender, it's something i did very intentionally, but being nonbinary was still a secondary part of my identity. it wasn't until 2019 that i more fully interrogated my gender and started viewing transness as a more central part of my identity?

i started doing that interrogation when i started questioning whether lesbian was the best fit for me. my then-recently-nonbinary-partner was just beginning to explore gender more and i knew that if they someday realized they were a man & felt misgendered by me being a lesbian that lesbian would stop being the right fit for me.

which. that came fully from me? i worry about phrasing this in a way that'd somehow paint my husband in a negative light but it genuinely was just a point at which i started thinking directly about my gender rather than bypassing it by focusing on my sexuality. (and yes, they're my husband now, he's since figured out they're a nonbinary trans guy).

i stopped being nonbinary as an afterthought of lesbianism and started just being nonbinary which was! quite honestly a lot to process because i'd been ignoring it for a long time. but it's been half a decade and i've done my processing?

i realized that what's true for me is that my gender is both fluid and not singular. i label myself as queer and genderqueer when talking to cishet people, maybe as genderfluid/bigender/multigender if getting into the specifics. but that's not how i label myself to me or to my community? (well. queer is).

what i've realized is that like. my attraction is always queer. in a relationship with a woman or dyke aligned nonbinary person, my gender would be more dyke than anything else. in my relationship with my husband my gender is more fag, & the same would be true in a relationship with anyone whose gender is more aligned with man/fag.

(i say more in both of those examples because like. my gender still fluctuates for other reasons. i have days where i feel very little internal sense of gender. i have days where i experience both fag as a gender and dyke as a gender at the same time. the list goes on).

my gender is contextual in a lot of ways—the way i experience gender is different in the more rural red state used to live in vs the big city in a blue state i now call home. but the context of relationships is one of the biggest ones, because it's one of the biggest impacts on how other people percieve me.

like, to strangers and aquaintences i am my husband's husband or spouse, because it's most important to me to be understood as queer. but in much more personal circles i also sometimes call myself his wife, because that's sometimes a more accurate reflection of my gender and the people who i'm comfortable calling myself that around already are familiar with how i experience gender & with the fact that our relationship is queer.

i know that a lot of people likely view fag and dyke as two mutually exclusive identities, as an extension of the binary of man and woman. but even when i was just IDing as a nonbinary dyke i had more in common with nonbinary fags than with cis women. and the fact that i am a dyke has not gone away now that i've also realized i am a fag.

in full i'd describe myself as a fairy fagdyke femme. fag goes first because it's how i more often present myself to the world.

i know i'm not the only person with seemingly contradictory identities like this, but it's not something i talk the most about? a LOT of the queer community constantly regurgitates subtly bioessentialist & transphobic ideas that make it like.. uncomfortable (at best) to be present in both lesbian and gay men's spaces as a bigender/multigender person.

so i primarily connect with other trans people, especially genderfreaks like me.

ummm my last note here is. for many other fagdykes or dykefags their definition of the label and personal experience is completely different from mine! it can be the same thing as being a dyke. some dykes are transmasc but still have dyke as their main gender and identity. i'm barely scratching the surface on this.

#i'm a fag and a dyke at the same time! that's all. #jam replies #anon #gender studies #gender

[cl0ckworkqueerness]

pinned post 📌

hi my name is jordan or robin, i don't really have a preference but i typically go by jordan offline and robin online

my pronouns are he/him ONLY, and please only use typically masculine-based terms (i.e. "man", "guy", etc) for me. you do not need to know the details of my transition or my body.

i am a transgender man, and although i do have a condition that some view as under the intersex umbrella (PCOS), i don't consider myself intersex personally-- although if you have it and you do, that's totally fine with me, as your experience is probably different from mine

I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL THEORIST OBVIOUSLY i'm just some guy in his early 20's who's throwing his hat into the ring so please don't blindly accept my opinions as fact. or anyone's opinions, for that matter. but especially that of a guy who's just now learning things and sitting solidly upon Mount Stupid of the Dunning-Kruger graph

i'm here to learn more about and give my thoughts on gender studies, as well as develop my own hypotheses, theories, and opinions. i would love people's input on their experiences, especially if they don't match mine. i want to learn as many sides as i possibly can to get a big-picture grasp on the concepts of gender, sex, and everything else that may be discussed here

this blog will be entirely focused on subjects relating to sex, gender, gender discrimination, trans people and issues, intersex people and issues, queerness, and occasionally sexual and romantic orientation. any other subject matter will be addressed as it relates to any of these topics (for example, how black trans people face intersectionality of transphobia and racism, or how neurodivergent people often do not have their gender taken seriously)

i am not going to critically engage with bad-faith arguments. if i am going to engage with them at all, then it is going to be public mockery or using a bad-faith argument as an opportunity to learn or speak about something related to it. if you step into my ask box, especially if you're going anon, you agree to whatever i may say in response to it being posted publicly even if that means making fun of you. if you do not want this, do not send an ask

i will NOT tolerate, under any circumstance, any kind of prejudice, e.g. transphobia (including, but not limited to, transmisogyny AND transandrophobia), interphobia/intersexism, or any other kind of prejudice, even if it is not relating to gender. yes, this includes androphobia, which very often comes with gender essentialism. i am NOT an anti-feminist MRA, so fuck off if you want to strawman me and say that i am

i will primarily be talking about my own firsthand experiences, which may include more mentions of transandrophobia than transmisogyny. i will do my best, though, to emphasize the equality of these struggles, because neither are worse than the other and they are both severe problems that must be addressed with serious attention, especially if either are coming from inside the trans community itself

under the cut are a few of my general beliefs. if you don't want to read through the rest, that's totally fine and i understand, this post is long enough already lmao

- * - * -

first of all, any of these beliefs may shift or alter over time. if that is the case i will regularly check this and make sure no edits need to be made, and if something conflicts with a post i made, please refer to the original post rather than this list

and also, all of these are opinions that i hold. if you disagree with anything, we can talk about it

with that in mind, let's begin!

to me, gender has no categories or boxes to fit everyone into. rather, gender is sort of an internal perspective of the self, which may or may not change over time, and is different for everyone, much like an internal fingerprint. you cannot tell someone's exact gender by their self-expression, nor simple descriptive words like "non-binary" or "man" or "woman". there is nothing prescriptive or inherent about any of these labels, and these labels are not and can never be "categories", and thus by nature are difficult to define. the closest i've gotten is describing a sort of "core" of a person which these words can describe, but everything connected to it can be of any nature so long as it supports and upholds the core. but this idea is very underdeveloped as of right now and i'll need to think about it

the presence or lack of gender dysphoria in someone has no bearing on someone's transness. that is to say, you don't need it to be trans, and you don't need to be trans if you have it. gender euphoria is an experience most powerfully felt by trans people, so if i were to explain what makes someone trans in very simple terms, it would be "experiencing intense gender euphoria with certain words, phrases, aspects of presentation, activities, or other stimuli". i believe there's more to it than this-- the idea that cis people may experience some form of gender euphoria is on my list of ideas to flesh out-- but generally speaking this is the belief i hold. this also means transmeds get fucked lmfao

bioessentialism (assigning inherent attributes based on sex) and gender essentialism (assigning inherent attributes based on gender) are always bad no matter for what purpose(s) they're used. no exceptions. this means i will not be seeing eye-to-eye with most radfems-- yes, even trans-inclusive ones-- unless they can actively challenge the notion of anyone having any inherent traits because of their manhood, womanhood, femininity, masculinity, or anything of the sort

sex, much like gender, is not binary. there are multiple different characteristics that don't just come down to chromosomes, and to define sex as purely chromosomal is beyond stupid because human bodies are more complex than that

gender as most see it in western society today is a social construct, however to me, gender is tied to one's sense of self that is built upon social interactions and culturally-constructed ideas, concepts, etc. that is to say, gender is who "you" are, constructed by how you interact with society

gender as most see it in western society today should be deconstructed and replaced with the idea that, basically, you can be whoever you want forever. anyone should be able to incorporate anything into their gender that makes sense for them, yes, even "weird" or unconventional things, including any and all pronouns that you use

everyone regardless of gender is hurt by discrimination based on sex, gender, etc. which means yes, men are hurt by misogyny too and the only way to eliminate systemic and social misogyny is to eliminate all systemic and social sex and gender discrimination

cant believe i have to say this. transandrophobia is a real thing. androphobia is a real thing. men can suffer in ways different than women but those ways are still very real. discrimination, prejudice, even bigotry are not exclusive to one, "most oppressed" group. it is not the fucking oppression olympics, get your head all the way out of your ass. baeddelists can fuck right off

all ideas that borrow from gender critical theory, gender essentialism, bioessentialism, or any other ideology that is exclusionary towards one or more types of trans people should NOT be portrayed as "progressive", nor should they be adopted by anyone who actually gives a damn about making a change for a better and more inclusive future. basically, do not sit at the TERF table if you don't wanna get called a TERF

people should be believed for the labels they define themselves with, because even if they're liars, what good does it bring to risk gatekeeping a real person with real experiences. this goes for sex, gender, sexual orientation, romantic orientation, so on and so forth. this also applies to everything else in my mind but for here i'll mainly be talking about it in relation to these things

some people's definitions of themselves might not make sense to you, and that's okay. there are some things that don't even make sense to me yet. but i choose to live and let live, and i think pretty much everyone would benefit from others doing the same. sometimes, what people say about themselves isn't really supposed to make sense to anyone but themselves. the human experience is a complicated mess in every other regard, so why is this any different

i'll probably end up adding more as i continue to think and process my own ideas. until then, that's basically everything i can think of right now

good-faith debates and challenges are welcome, although i might not respond to everything. i will try my best to keep on top of education and information, but i promise i will get some things wrong. in those cases, i wish to be better informed so that i don't perpetuate misinformation or poorly-supported ideas

and finally, in case you haven't seen my banner:

i believe that's everything! thanks for reading all this way, and i look forward to this experience

#pinned #pinned post #intro post #introduction #gender #gender theory #gender studies

[mysaldate]

Why do you and other jp players despise twst en sm? Other than small character features, I don't get it. (jp player)

I have a whole large post that compiles stuff I personally noticed but there's tons more. What you call "small character features" are actually pretty big things for people who care about these characters or relate to them.

By making Cater make fun of Riddle while he was crying after his overblot, they took away Cater's empathy which is a very important trait of his. By censoring his flirtiness, they took away his coping mechanism for feeling inadequate and unlovable.

By taking away the twins' violent tendencies, they stole about half their personalities and why they are so loved. They took away the conflicting natures they show to others vs those they care about. By making Floyd nothing but a meme, they took away the depth in a character that many would argue shows clear signs of being neurodivergent.

By taking away or hiding the fact that Jamil is a servant, they changed his entire arc from wanting to be free to essentially bitching about being asked to watch over a friend. The power imbalance is important because it affected Jamil on many levels (see: people under the influence of Snake Whisper calling him master, and master being also the first word he would teach his parrot – twst en changed that to simply teaching the parrot to say hello which lacks any sort of personality). A lot of what his parents say doesn't make sense either if you introduce him as a family friend rather than a servant, and that's not talking about the pre-release mishap of making them cousins in promo materials.

By taking away Epel being called cute, his arc goes from finding out cuteness and strength aren't opposites and you can be both to him being a brat unhappy with his looks who suddenly decides it doesn't matter how he looks. Similar but lacks the punch.

By making Vil use gendered language and emphasize manliness, they took away a core part of his character that focuses on breaking gender stereotypes and traditions that are restrictive to either sex or gender.

By making Trey's parents yell at him instead of Riddle's mom, and by mellowing out Riddle's mom's abuse as much as they did, many EN-only fans view Riddle as a spoiled brat who wants everyone to listen to him just because his mom was a little strict.

By making Sebek rude to his seniors and always put everyone but Malleus down, also calling Malleus exclusively by his first name, they took away a core part of his character and what made his interracial origins so compelling because there's no longer any conflict in his values.

To the censorship point, I'm by no means an advocate for forced representation and I don't believe that every fictional work has to have characters of every race, gender, and sexuality. I am, however, a firm believer in keeping characters as they were originally written. If a character is written as gay or bi, erasing that is wrong. If a character is written as trans or nb, erasing that is wrong. Same goes for straight and cis characters. My problem with twst en in this regard is that it erases a lot of this. It's not just Cater flirting with Vil or Epel or paintings or Eliza or her guards or Trey or whoever else that man flirted with, it's also nearly every mention of Vil being beautiful (they usually get replaced by handsome or cool) or Epel being cute, it's the way Jamil blushes when Kalim compliments him, it's the way Rook often hints at Trey and Riddle being together even if they're not, it's Silver saying Vil is who he thinks of when he hears the word beauty, it's Idia thinking Silver is extremely pretty, it's Lilia going out of his way to be cute, it's all that and so much more. Cater is just the most blatant example of this.

Censorship also applies to other things though. The violence and darkness of Twisted Wonderland is what makes these characters dear to a lot of us. Riddle's mother is abusive and extremely controlling as well as violent. Trey had no childhood because he was a parent to his younger siblings and until he discovered his magic, his whole life was controlled by the family bakery. Cater's sisters together with the moving made him believe he was unworthy of being loved on a personal level. Ruggie's struggled to survive his entire life. Azul was severely bullied since he was very young. The twins hinted multiple times at murdering us, Jade hinted at cannibalism. They also both had near-death experiences during Halloween under the sea. Jamil was forced to put himself down because his life and happiness were treated as less important than Kalim's. Vil got systematically dehumanized and physically and mentally bullied for putting in effort and looking a certain way... If you censor the darkness in these stories, they are no longer the same characters and it is no longer the same story.

Side note here: Twst en removed Sam's makeup supposedly due to racist stereotypes but then they changed the name of Jamil's unique from Snake Whisper to Snake Charmer... which is a racist stereotype... so yeah, they clearly don't care about actually not being racist besides the low-hanging fruit of virtue signaling.

There's more if you wanna dig deeper. But aside from all of these, there's also the constant inconsistencies in translation, the translation team clearly not caring enough to translate catchphrases the same way each time, the oftentimes blatantly wrong translation, the horrendous new English names for things that already had English names in the first place, the visual censorship on Sam (do not use the voodoo argument, Sam has no connection to voodoo and his makeup is purely decorative as stated in Magical Archives), as well as the fact that as soon as twst en was announced, even the original twst started back-tracking on some of their earlier content. For example, despite Cater saying in his school uniform story that he wanted to date Vil, his union birthday suddenly has him claiming he wants Vil as a brother. This is especially interesting because Cater was the first character twst en gave a birthday banner to.

And going even more meta, the pace at which they release events is horrible. Being F2P in twst en is extremely hard unless you have the luck of the gods. They are rushing out too much content all at once and the overall quality of the game suffers for it.

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Oh look! Another anon bully! Fuuuun 😂 Don't worry I blocked them but I thought this was too good to ignore!

Is it the trans thing making them say this? That I write fanfiction? Or just my looks? I'm confused but let's have some fun, yeah? I'm really not into sex shaming in ANY way.

The thing is, I've had way more than I probably should have and maybe this can be a helpful lesson here. I was actually really nervous posting that game, but y'all know I like to be honest with y'all just in case it can help!

I spent a long time hiding who I was to myself and everyone else. I'm mostly gray-ace besides fantasy, meaning I rarely actually enjoy myself but that's a scary thing to admit because it's so misunderstood and frowned upon. After being assaulted as a teenager and coming from a religious background I truly thought I was ruined. I won't go into the shame or the suicide attempts here because that's not what this is about but it was a very bad time for me. Especially after I miscarried a few months later. (Which by the way- Sept-Dec is the anniversary of all this so this was a PERFECT time of year for this BS)

It took me a few years to feel comfortable dating after that but when I did it was a boy that had issues with his parents so my parents allowed him to live under our roof. I was still having a lot of nightmares at the time so I was on heavy sedatives. One night my boyfriend at the time realized he could use that to his advantage. He wasn't the first obviously and he wasn't the last. I've been assaulted by multiple partners over my teen and young adult years. But because of that- I started sleeping with people before they could force or bully me into it and I went a little wild for about a decade.

I answered that game honestly, but not every answer was something I was happy to be a part of. Most of my experiences were bad. This bully was right in fact, I haven't had sex in a long time because I choose not to. When I do again it will be as my real self, with a deep and loving connection. I didn't used to have sex for love, I had sex to keep people around, to keep myself safe, or to try and feel something. I don't suggest it to anyone and I hope all of your sex lives are incredible and loving and safe.

I genuinely don't know if they were trying to say I couldn't get sex because that was never my problem and I hated it. It made me incredibly uncomfortable. If they don't like the looks of me then good for them, but I don't know why that was supposed to hurt me. I'm a grown adult with a past I'm not always proud of and so many stories I hope never get out. I'm also a trans guy that barely passes unless you're into fem boys so if you don't like me- that's cool! I rarely do either but that doesn't mean I won't post pics when I find a little confidence.

All of this isn't said to shame anyone else, if you can't tell, I'm totally happy there are people in the world who love consensual sex (Dom and Kells are wild boys and I love them), I'm just saying my experience is filled with a lot of darkness and very little light. I'm looking forward to having a healthy consensual loving relationship someday but it will be as myself and until I can have that I'm choosing not to do anything else. When I finally started saying no to my ex it was one of the proudest moments of my life and knowing I'm finally emotionally strong enough to protect myself feels incredible.

But I'm sure this was just trying to imply I'm unattractive or a loser so I probably should have just focused on that. Oh no! I'm so hurt! My nonexistent pride is wounded 💔 I must now shut up for good about everything! Honestly whatever is wrong with them that makes them need to hurt others I feel very sorry for. I hope they feel better soon and I hope all of you have a lovely day! I wish you all incredible loving relationships, whether with a partner, multiple partners, or just yourself! Stay safe! Love you all 🖤

#asks #jinx answers #bullies are fun #sa tw #rape tw #suicide tw #self harm tw #stay safe #i love you all so much #your history doesnt define you #anon bully #miscarriage tw

[alohaemora]

hi! just wanted to drop by for two things:

a) had to let you know your writing style is BONKERS stellar, so, so good and succinct without undercutting the human emotion within each character you touch; just...you are incredible!

b) I've personally been wondering this for a long while, but have finally decided to just ask: why do you exclusively write canon compliant works? is it because that's what you find most comfortable? is it because you cannot picture anything beyond what's canon? or is it something else? I ask mostly because for a while I have seen many people in the fandom add this to their bios, which kinda turns me off of them (not due to writing, just a preference!), and it's rooted itself inside my brain and, well, here I am.

but I honestly really do adore everything I have read from you, you capture everyone's voices so masterfully I can't help but be enthralled (that Lee Jordan bit for Winter Sun? need more of that POV!).

so, yeah, hope this reaches you well, sorry for bothering! x

First of all, THANK YOU, Anon 🥺 I'm in the thick of a really horrible cold right now, and your words brightened my day. I'm really quite proud of my writing style at this moment in time. I've worked hard over the years at developing a style that balances conciseness and evocation - it's something I struggled with a lot when I first started writing, which you might notice if you read my older fics, so it always makes me genuinely thrilled when people comment on that. (Also, I'm delighted you enjoyed my recent Lee ficlet, I have so much fondness for his character, and hope to write more of him!)

As to why I'm a canon-compliant writer, it actually has very little to do with personal comfort - in fact, I love being pushed out of my comfort zone when I write, it's why my fics feature such a wide range of characters. I almost dislike the word "compliant" sometimes, as it has a bit of a…resigned vibe to it? The reason my works are canon-compliant is because what stimulates me, personally, when it comes to writing fanfiction is envisioning and creating different sides and dimensions to the canon universe. I enjoy the unique challenge that is posed by having to build upon, enrich, and add nuance to the characters and themes introduced to us in canon, while still working within the general parameters of that universe. The recent Winter Sun fest by @harrypocter, for example, has been an incredible writing experience for me - it's been so invigorating to add depth and culture and life to these characters of color, to create rich stories around those small mentions of them we got in the series.

Do I think that the canon universe is perfect? Of course not. I think this is a common experience for those of us who grew up with the series - as we matured, we naturally applied a more critical lens to books that we obsessively loved as children. A reputation that canon-compliant authors often have is that we are completely devoted to the source material and glorify it, when in fact, it's usually the opposite. It's been one of my favorite parts of engaging with this fandom as an adult, reading these incredibly nuanced metas and focused analyses of canon characters and plot lines, and then writing fics that incorporate my newly enhanced understanding. (I'll take this opportunity to rec one of my absolute favorite metas by @ashesandhackles that expertly breaks down all the problems within the series' house-elf-related arc.)

To conclude this wildly long answer lol, it's not that I see myself as trapped within the canon sandbox. Rather, what engages me most is making new things out of the sand. I will add that as a reader, I enjoy AU fic, particularly canon divergence AU, and there are so many truly stellar AU authors out there. One of the great things about this fandom is that because of how enormous it is, there are infinite niches and sub-fandoms. Despite the author's truly harmful actions (I will always support the rights and dignity of trans people and will never monetarily support jkr again), fans put time and care into making this space more inclusive and diverse every year.

Thanks again for the lovely comments ❤️

#canon compliant #fanfic writer ask #hp fanfic writer #ask alohaemora

[romeulusroy]

I mean you know I had to come and be shipped. Male character please. ISTJ, Virgo, and Gryffindor. The Eldest Sibling. I'm 5'9 which is considered average and in my family is considered short. Trans Dude with long hair because I refuse to cut it although this also means I've lost more hair ties than I can keep track of. Glasses. Penchant for wearing graphic t-shirts, patterned button downs, jeans, or hoodies if the weather permits. I own no single pair of normal socks anymore (that's a fact I pride on, they're all some sort of pattern). Sarcastic. Quiet until you get to know me or until I'm comfortable. I swear a lot which shocks people. Mentally Ill (depression, anxiety, OCD). Autistic. Dream Job is to be a film editor or honestly in the industry in some capacity. I watch too many movies in about every genre. Read a lot, probably more than I should in comparison to actually adventuring outside. But I love roaming cities, heading to concerts, plays, musicals. Record store trips, thrift shops all the time. Listen to any genre of music and have too many favorite artists to list. Irrational fear of deep sea fish. Favorite color is green. Favorite animal is a tiger. Does this help, hopefully! Honestly if you're overwhelmed with ships don't bother with mine just take it easy and I'll be fine. PS. Obv your shipped with Roman, I just. Yeah I mean you two would absolutely vibe.

Noah!!!! I ship you with: Kendall Roy!!!

He loves your sarcasm. He can't help it, whenever you have a comeback or comment, it always makes him smile. You're fast with it, too. And you don't censor yourself. You're like that with everyone. He loves it. You can keep up with him, with Rome and Shiv. You have endless comments about his father though you're smart enough to keep those between you and him. He also loves how much you swear. The word fuck is like um or like with his family, it's between every word. He appreciates that you can keep up, that you're not shocked or disgusted by his own swearing. It doesn't make you a bad person or any less smart, it's just a way of expression.

You love that when he puts his mind to something, he gets it done. Kendall can get a little one minded when he's focused on something. That can be a little annoying to others, when he gets that focused, but you like it. It brings out this determination in him that you don't often see. It shows you, and the world, that he isn't just Logan Roy's son, but an entire being and entity on his own. That he's far more capable than people give him credit for.

Your relationship is emotional. Kendall is a bit of an emotional roller coaster. After being on a high and making pitches and taking over as CEO, he gets low and needs to isolate and typically drifts to the water. It's not always easy dealing with that, but you make it work. You make sure you're always communicating, talking, and working things through. He really is grateful for you and all that you do. You knew going into it that he was a complicated person with a lot of feelings and not that much, if any, support from his family. It's work, but in the end it's completely worth it. You love one another so much.

Your first date is to a record store. You know from the beginning that Kendall favors one genre above all else and is constantly wearing his headphones. You love fishing through the records and CD's, telling him all about the different artists and genres and time periods. And he loves to listen. If it were anyone else he might've been bored, but you make it interesting, you make it fun. You make him want to learn everything there is to know about all genres and types of music. It's a store you visit often after that, making fun of one another and what you listen to.

Relationship Headcanon: Kendall always keeps a hair tie on his wrist for you. He always replaces is when you need one. You never noticed for the longest time, he just always seemed to have one. Then one day it clicked: Kendall doesn't need them. His hair is too short. He wears them for you, when you need one. You don't say anything about it, but it's something you're reminded of often whenever you look at his wrist. He's doing it for you, because he loves you and cares about you and thinks about you.

Screaming, crying, I want to vibe with Roman so bad he is baby boy!!! I really hope you like it! 💜💜💜

#kendall roy #kaitbishop-ships