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#but outside of them i have no one to call to go to a queer friendly bar or even just a bar and have drinks with and be queer with
hausofneptune · 18 hours
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✾ persona chart series ✾ jupiter
[astro notes no. 017]
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disclaimer: i know a lot of y’all on here refer to the jupiter PC for insight into your future husband or whateva - as a pansexual girly and an aqua venus that hates heteronormative/patriarchal ideals it doesn’t resonate with me so i won’t be covering it.
and i would implore y’all, especially during pride month, to actually consider the fact that queer people also exist in the astro community and consume your content. not just cis-het white women. and miss me with the “lgbt people should be making content for lgbt people” bs, you don’t have to be queer to create inclusive astrology content. and when i say inclusive, i mean for all marginalized people across the board.
that being said, if you’re interested about the characteristics of the type of partner you may attract, regardless of gender, i would actually suggest looking at your descendant persona chart. once i get through the rest of the planetary PCs i’ll be going through the angle PCs, and the “big 4” asteroid PCs, so stay tuned!
the jupiter persona chart is representative of where one finds abundance, development, and luck within their lives. it's also indicative of our relationship to higher learning and religion/spirituality. click here to calculate your persona charts!
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༄ ruler of the ascendant conjunct mercury can be indicative of being viewed as someone who expresses themselves in a way that inspires others
↝ with this aspect, the ideals that the natives hold tend to have a strong impact on their approach to life. this usually isn’t going to be the type of person who can put their morality to the side when they form connections with others, as the ways in which they view and contemplate life is integral to their identities.
↝ those around them can view them as extremely knowledgeable and uplifting to be around, and they may even find themselves called into positions to teach, mentor, or coach others. they may have to work towards remaining focused on one thing at a time, as they're very fast-paced thinkers and could want to jump from one idea to the next.
↝ there may also be something distinctive about the native's voice or the way that they speak that "enchants" others in a sense. these people can be good communicators, and may excel in fields related to writing or potentially singing/performing. they could also know multiple languages, or find ease in learning different languages in general.
↝ the planet that has rulership in this aspect will provide more context into how this energy manifests. for example, if venus holds rulership over the ascendant, they may be viewed as someone who is extremely kind-hearted, elegant, and potentially too charitable or naive at times. they could also be gifted artists and excel in fields where they're able to utilize their creativity.
༄ sun conjunct venus can indicate an extremely benevolent nature and prosperity in relation to love and money
↝ people tend to assume that venusian energy appreciates things that are deemed "aesthetically pleasing" by societal standards, when in reality, it's more so things that are aesthetically pleasing by the individual's standard.
↝ so while one person's venusian/jupiterian indulgences could be collecting tennis bracelets or fine dining in paris, another person's indulgences could be building lego sets, collecting vinyls, or buying home decor.
↝ in terms of this aspect, no matter the vice, there is a deep appreciation and love for the things that these natives value, and it's quite easy for them to attract and manifest these things into their lives. depending on the full context of the jupiter pc (as well as the natal chart), these natives could struggle at times with overconsumption or gluttonous behavior.
↝ ultimately, these are the types to have an aggrandized vision of what love is. despite their outside demeanor, they could be hopeless romantics at heart, and could enjoy grand displays of affection, both in terms of receiving and giving.
༄ uranus conjunct neptune can manifest as a deep dedication to one's creativity and spiritual beliefs
↝ these natives typically resonate with philosophies and ideals that prioritize independence and freedom. even if they're not the most "spiritually inclined" people on the surface, they behave in a way that is derivative of the need to push the envelope and to understand things beyond what they've been conditioned to believe. they may also benefit from a strong intuition, and often employ this ability to connect with and navigate the collective consciousness.
↝ although their ideals may be unconventional in nature, they often utilize their creativity to express these ideals in ways that captivate others. their imagination often knows no bounds, and because of this, their artistry could make them prolific, and even revolutionary figures for their generation.
↝ while they can also find ease in manifesting their dreams into reality, they may struggle at times with distinguishing between the two. it's possible for these natives to become overly ingrained in their vision of what it is that they want the world to be, versus what it actually is. hence why it's important for these natives remain grounded in their approach, as it serves them better to be more methodical in how they bring life to their ideas.
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༄ ruler of the descendant in the 9H can indicate one's partnerships playing a significant role in their personal philosophies and outlook on life
↝ this can also manifest in the opposite way, where the people that this native attracts are often drawn to their spiritual nature, and find that they can learn a lot from the native as well. this could also indicate being attracted to people who are from places that are "foreign" to the native, and enjoying the process of learning about their partner's culture and traditions. these natives could also enjoy traveling with their partner, as well as being taught things by their partner, whether that be in terms of traditional knowledge or spirituality.
↝ beyond the romantic aspect, this could also indicate simply attracting people that either hold the same ideals as the native, or, inspire the native to learn or adjust/rethink their values in some way shape or form, usually in a positive way. these natives tend to have an "insatiable" hunger to learn as much as they can, therefore it benefits them to maintain partnerships that are intellectually stimulating.
↝ as i mentioned, the planet that holds rulership here will offer more context into how this energy manifests. for example, if mars is the ruler of the descendant, the native tends to be extremely passionate about their personal beliefs, and are proactive in the way that they integrate those ideals into their partnerships. although, these natives typically have to ensure that they don't go overboard in their approach, as they can come off as overly-combative to their partners at times.
༄ moon in scorpio can indicate that one's approach to spirituality and their interpretation of higher knowledge is reliant on how deeply they can engage with it on an emotional level
↝ these natives tend to use their personal philosophies as a means to navigate their emotions, and while this isn't inherently negative, it can definitely influence an "immovability" in one's ideals. their sense of morality is usually molded by their upbringing and specifically, the relationship they have with their mother (or any significant maternal figures), which ultimately further influences this intense, "all or nothing" approach to their beliefs.
↝ they usually have an innate understanding for spirituality and religion, and are typically deeply devoted to whatever spiritual ideas that they subscribe to. this dedication isn't something that goes unnoticed by those around them, as others may find themselves drawn to these natives due to their passionate nature, or repelled by it.
↝ they feel most satisfied and emotionally secure when around people that share the same beliefs as them. they can struggle at times with wanting to "test" others on these ideals, which can lead those around them to feeling attacked at times. they may have to work towards not coming off as too harsh or antagonistic, and learn how to navigate expressing their beliefs without relying too heavily on their emotions instead of being objective.
༄ mercury trine pluto can manifest as a deeply analytical and focused nature
↝ similar to moon in scorpio, this is an aspect that can indicate a very strong dedication to one's morals, more so in an intellectual sense rather than emotional. these natives tend to have an innate understanding of psychology and the inner workings of the human mind, which works in their favor when expressing their philosophical standpoints and ideas. it's typically easy for them to connect with others on a spiritual level, and they could wind up being a figure that people look to for guidance in times of need.
↝ they're usually drawn to the "taboos" of life, and may find themselves called into positions to help and advocate for members of the collective that are deemed "disposable" by society (i.e. people who struggle with substance abuse, the homeless, victims of abuse, marginalized individuals, etc.). this can also indicate very easily coming into positions of authority through means of communication.
↝ there's an intrinsic power that these people wield in both their tongue and mind, deeper philosophical matters that would usually take others time to digest and understand are something that they can almost immediately grasp and comprehend. despite this, these natives may not fully recognize their potential at times, and can be naturally soft-spoken or timid in nature. but with time and age, they do eventually grow into their power, and are able to utilize their skills as a means to understand life's complexities, and help others make sense of them as well.
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༄ ruler of the midheaven in the 2H can manifest as good fortune being found in one's professional life
↝ this is an aspect that can definitely indicate some form of "fame" for the native. and i want to clarify because people can get unnecessarily transfixed on "fame/beauty/etc indicators" in astrology; this doesn't necessarily mean that the native is going to wind up being an A-list celebrity. it more so means that the native's finances and values will be directly affected by their professional lives and how they're perceived by the public, and vice versa.
↝ these natives can "inspire" their peers in someway shape or form, and could be someone that benefits from collaboration with others in their profession. they could also find monetary gain and stability through their reputation. this can indicate having an extremely strong work-ethic as well. they may be extremely dedicated to their career and could struggle at times with maintaining balance and not overworking themselves. this could also manifest as being able to make a successful career out of being a mentor, professor, astrologer/occultist, spiritual/life coach, etc. they may also travel a lot for their careers, or move frequently for work.
↝ the planet that holds rulership over the midheaven will provide further context into how this energy manifests. for example, if the moon holds rulership, the native will usually have a deeply emotional, spiritual connection to the work that they do. financial stability plays a significant role in how secure their home life feels, and they could definitely encounter luck or encounter "big breaks" here. these natives could inherit wealth and status through a family business, or their family (specifically the mother/maternal figure) will affect how they approach their career in some way shape or form. at best, others can view them as empathetic and charming, at worst, they may be viewed as lacking objectivity and direction.
༄ sun conjunct jupiter can indicate an extremely enthusiastic and optimistic approach to life
↝ while the sun in the PC indicates the identity and natural character that the planet instinctively expresses in the natal chart, the planet itself indicates the innate, motivating factors behind said instinct. so when the sun is conjunct the planet of the PC, there's no "mask" so to speak. the planet not only expresses itself truly and wholeheartedly, it's energy is also further heightened, for better or for worse. in the context of this aspect, jupiterian energy will typically be very apparent, intense, and significantly amplified within the native.
↝ this aspect can manifest as extreme abundance and prosperity within one's life, they have a prevalent "go big or go home" approach to their endeavors. they navigate life with the understanding that there is a larger, perhaps unimaginable reason as to why they were put on this planet, and this ideology can definitely be something they extend to those around them. their energy and personal philosophy can be something that innately inspires others, and those around them can be drawn to their jovial spirit. they may travel frequently, live abroad, and/or have a general fascination for other cultures and enjoy learning about them. these natives can be very generous in nature, and are usually very compassionate and understanding for their fellow man. they can struggle with being too charitable at times, though, and could have to work towards not being overly-naive and knowing when they need to remain objective.
↝ this can also manifest in the opposite way, where the native can become far too engrossed with excess, and overindulge in selfish, destructive desires. jupiter is a benefic planet, yes, but it is also a planet that will match your energy, meaning, if the native utiltizes their jupiterian energy as a means to be productive, contemplate foreign ideas, and to help others, they will reap the benefits of that. whereas if the native utilizes jupiterian energy to satiate their ego, exert power over others, engage in superficiality, they will more often than not wind up with egg on their face and ultimately lose everything.
༄ ruler of the 5H in the 8H can manifest as an innate ability to navigate and creatively express the transformative experiences that one encounters in life.
↝ these natives can utilize their artistic expression as a means to not only make sense of their own struggles, but they may also use it as a way to help and inspire others to view the setbacks in their own lives as regenerative opportunities to create something new, rather than the "end all be all". this energy can be especially apparent in their native's romantic relationships. their partner can be their "muse" in a sense, and they could even benefit financially when collaborating with their partner. they may share similar beliefs, and utilize their artistry as a means to express their shared philosophical principles.
↝ it could also be of great importance for the two of them to pass down their ideals to their children (if they end up wanting/having them), and they could encourage their children to dream and think big creatively, as well as spiritually. there may also be an allure that these natives have about them that tends to drawn others in, and they may even utilize their sex appeal as a tool in their creative expression as well. intimacy can play a significant role in these natives' lives as well, they may view it from a very sacred, spiritual perspective, and perhaps even use it to draw inspiration for their art.
↝ the planet that holds rulership here can further provide context into how this energy manifests. for example, if saturn holds rulership, challenges or hardships regarding their creative expression and their finances could be prevalent. these natives could encounter limitations in terms of being able to benefit from their artistic endeavors (or expressing their artistry in general), as well as in regard to romantic connections. with time, this can instill a great understanding of responsibility and balance in these areas, and it can even bode well in the context of the jupiter PC, as it can essentially deter any potential overindulgence or lack of moderation.
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༄ mars conjunct saturn can manifest as a proactive dedication and discipline regarding higher learning and one's personal philosophies
↝ these natives can be very driven when it comes to their pursuit of higher learning. they can have very ambitious goals, and house within themselves both the ire and self-governance to achieve them. they tend to be very resilient in the face of obstacles, and utilize their philosophical and spiritual beliefs as motivation to power through any challenges that arise.
↝ although, these natives may also struggle with a defeatist attitude, primarily in their youth. while they are extremely enthusiastic in their pursuit of their dreams and aspirations, they could find it difficult at times to actually implement the foundational strategy to work towards and achieve them. there can be a lack of focus and patience when it comes to getting what they want out of life, and it usually takes maturity and age for them to reach a point where they can actually reap the benefits of their hard work.
↝ with time, the energy of this aspect can mold them into the perfect mentor or teacher for those around them. they may have to work to not be too overbearing or harsh at times, but ultimately they can be a very grounding force to motivate others to stay on track to reach their goals, as the ways in which they're able to maintain self-discipline and not over-exert their energy is a quality that others may admire about them.
༄ pluto conjunct chiron can indicate a spiritually transformative approach to life
↝ for these natives, it's not at all difficult to engage with the deepest, darkest parts of their psyche, nor do they find difficulty in engaging with this aspect in others as well. these people tend to see the broken parts of themselves within others, and through that, they can find the inspiration to heal, both themselves and those around them. they tend to utilize their trials and tribulations as a means of motivation, the pain and hardships they've experienced are essentially fuel to them, and influence their persistent and ambitious attitude.
↝ growing up, life for these natives was more than likely tumultuous. it could've taken them a while to feel that life was meaningful and actually worth experiencing. the traumas and hardships they faced may have influenced a "scarcity mindset" within the native, and it could've taken them a while to grow out of their habitual nature to view life from a "glass half empty" perspective. with time and maturity, they can eventually get to a point where they begin to understand that they are not what they've been through, and that they don't have to allow their past to dictate their future.
↝ they may also have to work towards not overextending themselves or being overly self-sacrificial. because they can find ease playing the role of "healer", they need to maintain balance and use their discernment, or they’ll find themselves constantly seeking out people who they feel need to be saved or “fixed”. ultimately, their innate understanding of human psychology, paired with their spiritual nature, can mold them into someone who can guide and inspire others. more importantly, it provides them with a greater comprehension for their own struggles, and can help them to navigate any internal strife they may encounter.
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*sigh* This article is actually not trying to ignore Doctor Who’s history so let’s take a look instead of screaming about a headline.
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First of all the headline’s been changed on the actual website but it doesn’t seem that Twitter reflects that.
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The lede has always been about how they’re talking specifically about the Doctor only as they are aware side characters have had same-sex kisses. I can’t verify for certain but I believe they added “explicitly romantic” to clarify things as this section always existed in the article:
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They always meant to discuss what’s actually new here: a completely reciprocal same-sex romance for the Doctor onscreen. We can argue about whether Nine was interested in Jack, but I think we can agree there was far more interest displayed by the Doctor when it came to Rogue. But it’s perfectly fine that they wrote an article detailing what actually is a huge moment for the show and honestly that should be encouraged. I want to see more articles writing about queer parts of shows instead of ignoring them.
And yes, this whole thing is a side-effect of Disney but only because their licensing rights (they don't have any control over the show) have made Doctor Who far more accessible in the US. Plus, they're doing some pretty serious advertising to put the show on more people's radars, which is likely why anyone at Deadline Hollywood was even aware of Rogue and wrote this article. No one is pretending Disney has erased the show's past and is doing all these new "firsts".
The issue here is primarily that the headline is disingenuous. Their article has always been about the Doctor’s first explicitly romantic same-sex relationship, but they wanted clicks so they wrote the headline to be vaguer and imply something much more groundbreaking. Even saying “first romantic same-sex kiss” is a bit disingenuous, as it doesn’t clarify the kiss is referring to the title character.
Thankfully they corrected the article after receiving feedback from the fans, which is great.
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But they did their research, which y’all would’ve known if you bothered to look at the article (which isn’t actually behind a paywall! A rarity these days, though I can’t speak to access outside the US). If something seems informationally off to you, go to the source and actually look at what they're saying, then find the facts. We're not going to get anywhere if we just continue to yell about headlines without reading the actual article that, you know, expands upon the snapshot headline.
The topic of critique should be their poor headline, not the supposed lack of truth in their article. It's great to call them out for poor reporting, as they claim to be a news source and those should be factual, unbiased reporting as opposed to a tabloid. But the issue in their reporting here is simply their phrasing. Criticize them for misleading, not for an assumed lack of information that was actually acknowledged and present in the article. They need to improve but they won't until the real problem is highlighted for them.
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pippin-katz · 22 hours
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Some Thoughts About Queer Platonic Relationships In Dead Boy Detectives
So, something that a lot of fans have been talking about is whether or not they think/want Edwin and Charles to be dating, or be queer platonic friends.
Side Note: it’s refreshing to see something like this being talked about by fans in a respectful and chill way. I think it’s because there’s no “loser” or “bad” option out of the two.
It’s been on my mind, and I wanted to share an idea I had! I would personally like to see Edwin and Charles become lovers; I’m just a sucker for pairs that are so devoted to each other like they are. But I wouldn’t have a problem with them being queer platonic friends either, especially since there’s less representation of those in visual media.
That’s when I had the thought!
I’ve been blabbering to my parents and friends who have seen the show that I really want them to bring Monty back if we get a second season. It would be so fun for him to turn back into a human and join the gang permanently now that Esther’s gone, but that’s a separate post.
But the concept of having Monty back opened a whole new door in my brain.
Bring Monty back, and make him and Edwin queer platonic friends!
At first I was like, yeah that would be cute, but then my brain did some more turning. I realized that it’s actually a brilliant, perfect idea for them.
Monty was a crow. He’s inexperienced in the human world aside from what he learned to blend in. Edwin is the first human being he genuinely connected with, in any capacity. Edwin is as much his first friend as he is his first love.
Monty was going along with Esther’s plan after he thought Edwin didn’t care, but as soon as Edwin says that he genuinely does and that he is his friend, he crumbles. Monty can’t do it.
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Look at me, making my own GIFs with a little watermark and everything :3
He’s willing to directly betray Esther by getting Edwin out of the forest. Even if the Cat King hadn’t shown up, he was screwed. There’s no way she wouldn’t have found out if he had literally helped them escape her plan rather than complete it. It took Monty only a few seconds to decide, and his decision was a death sentence. He knew that, and still tried to get him to safety.
Monty then betrays Esther a second time after she kidnaps Edwin and Charles. He hears Edwin’s screams, sees Charles struggling, and chooses to help. Who knows how long it would’ve taken Charles to get his backpack by himself?
Since Crystal apparently couldn’t just fucking hand it to him, but that’s also a separate post.
All this being said, Monty does care about the squad. When he confronts Esther, he says, "You didn't tell me that mushroom thing was gonna completely eradicate them."
Key word: them. He could've said "him", referring to Edwin since he's the one Monty's in love with, but he says "them", as in both Edwin and Charles. He doesn't want to see that happen to either of them. He also asks Esther about her plans for Crystal after she's gotten the ghosts, showing thoughtfulness rather than ignoring her fate entirely. So, he would make a believable addition to the group outside of his crush on Edwin.
Speaking of his crush on Edwin, Monty knows that Edwin is in love with Charles. He knows that he and Edwin aren't going to happen. He knew that even while he tried to get Edwin to safety, but only brought it up when Edwin accused him of pretending to care. He's freaking out and terrified, but it doesn't feel like he brings up Charles out of malice. He seems genuine about it, almost as if he's trying to help Edwin realize it. Monty knows that he's struggling with his feelings; that's what they talked about on the swing set.
Honestly, I think he only runs away because Edwin lashes out and calls him a crow, like an insult, like just being a crow is unforgivable rather than him being Esther's crow. I don't think Edwin actually cares about him being a crow since he's not literally a crow after being turned human. If Monty had gotten to talk to him again after the forest before he was turned back, I think he would've forgiven him. Plus, he's fine with the Cat King and his ability to shift between the two forms, and with Tragic Mick, who once, was a mighty walrus, king of the deep- sorry, couldn't resist.
That all being said, Edwin is the first human being he's truly connected with. He really likes him and enjoys spending time with him. He also knows his romantic feelings are one-sided, but that doesn't stop him from being his friend (after he gets his hurt feelings out of the way).
I think it would be incredibly sweet if Monty got turned back into a person, and now that he's free of Esther's control, join the group, and be besties with Edwin. This little crow-boy who's new to humanity and freedom, truly getting to learn and experience the world, with the help and guidance of the first person he ever connected with?
Tell me that's not the sweetest thing ever! That would be the my preferred QPR 🥹
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lupismaris · 1 year
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The immediate cut to of spending time with a queer friend then going back to your strangely isolated life cut off from external local queerness is a really violent kind of whiplash i do not enjoy. Hm.
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ishipgenfics · 9 months
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Outsider POV on Somewhere Else Jonathan Sims must be just. so much.
Like imagine. You're part of a support group, and a new guy decides to join. You ask him his name and he says, "Jonathan," and then after a long pause, "Blackwood. Jonathan Blackwood. But call me Jon."
He doesn't like tape recorders. You only know this because the person who hosts the support group is into retro things, and tries to keep a couple around. She turned one on once when someone asked about it, and you noticed Jon clutching his nails into his hands so tight he's nearly breaking the skin. You lean over and whisper, "Do you want me to ask her to stop?" He says, "It's fine," and you nod, but you still try and change the subject whenever people bring up tape recorders from that point on.
He full-body flinches one day when someone says Hello, Jon. Nearly slams into a wall and everything. He tries to play it off, but after that people say Hi Jon, or Nice to see you, or things like that. Anything but Hello.
He says he used to work at a 'non-profit for studying the supernatural'. Someone asks where it was and he says London. You tell your wife about it, and two days later she emails you an article. Magnus Institute Burns Down In 1999. It was in Manchester. You tell her not to bring it up again.
The guy is snarky and blunt and downright rude at times, but when a woman comes in and tells them about being trapped in a empty warehouse for a week, he comforts her in a way none of the rest of them know how. "I believe you," he says, repeats it like a mantra, like a prayer. "I believe you." He says 'I'm sorry' less like he's sorry this happened to her, and more like he's taking the blame onto himself.
He talks about Martin, sometimes. His reason, he calls him. Normally you'd point out that while it's of course good to love your partner, you should have other reasons to live, but you stay quiet. This guy needs all the happiness he can get.
You leave a little late that day, and when you do you hear him on the phone talking to someone. "She'd been touched by the Lonely, Martin!" he says. "Which is bad, of course, but--" he seems to choke up, "Martin, I didn't feel any compulsion for a Statement. A-at all. I think it's really gone."
You just walk by.
You don't know what's going on with Jon, but it really isn't any of your business. You're an anxious queer lesbian and he's a traumatized ace guy, and you aren't going to make his life any harder than you have to.
Just. Jonathan Sims in a support group.
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mr-ribbit · 14 days
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something fascinating to me about egg discourse is how often tme people Also joke about or question their friends potential to be trans, and it's literally never talked about like this.
my cis and tme nb friends routinely joke about celebrities or characters that have big "nonbinary energy" or who otherwise exhibit behavior we would associate with ourselves. i have tme friends and acquaintances who have approached me or my wife and straightforwardly said "something seems trans about you, have I asked for your pronouns recently?"
similar friends have even talked about other still-cis friends in our circle this way, or joked about "when are you going to transition like the rest of us?" or "yeah cis people are a minority in this group, just give it time" or "no wonder you have queer friends with how comfortable with being gnc you are" or etc etc examples like that
even the actual examples of people in my life that I can think of as being the most "invasive" or presumptive about gender have been tme people:
it was my cishet friends who outed me and my wife as trans to everyone at their wedding, including their boomer parents and hundreds of strangers, and called it "the most queer wedding party ever"
it was my tme nb friend who kept saying they could "always tell" her transfem cousin was trans before she came out, and then proceeded to randomly give us extremely personal details about her bottom surgery
it was my transmasc friend who refused to call me and my wife anything other than "little enby beans" after we met and introduced us with our full genders+sexuality labels to every single person one by one at a party
it was my transmasc nb friend who kept insisting my wife could "still be nonbinary" when she was first considering identifying as a trans woman instead, and it was THAT idea that actually slowed her down from making changes to her life that she wanted
it was my cis friends who approached me arm and arm and cornered my outside of a bathroom at a party right after I took a piss to suddenly ask me what my pronouns were because they "heard something" at the party
like, transfems deserve robust support against this trash so a lot of our defensive discourse has ofc been about how it IS okay for transfems to talk about eggs and be jokey about it and non-invasively approach others about being trans
but i swear to god none of these weird people have even stopped to make their discourse ABOUT anyone BUT transfems. it's so clearly targeted!!
no one has EVER approached *me* as a tme nb person and suggested i was pressuring gnc people with my egg jokes. never. nothing even remotely similar. i joke about other people being trans all the time and no one has ever treated me the way you all are treating transfems over this issue.
important note: my examples are all things I recall as being invasive and awkward, and I'm sharing them to make a point about how often rude behavior comes from the same tme people pointing fingers over this. but I still don't think any of them are worth the crucifixion people are treating transfem egg discourse with.
even when my friends were weird to me in the above examples, my reaction was either to confront them about it as friends who I trust to be able to communicate with, or to cut those individuals off after they proved not worth a relationship in the long run. at no time did I desire to make a call-out post or spread rumors about them or publicly declare all of their gender as a screeching menace to society.
my point here is that even when I do think about moments where others crossed a line, acting like this is a "issue trans women have" is blatantly transmisogynistic garbage that only exists to serve the woman-hating machine at the heart of our society. fucking cut it out
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katrafiy · 1 year
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I think about this image a lot. This is an image from the Aurat March (Women's March) in Karachi, Pakistan, on International Women's Day 2018. The women in the picture are Pakistani trans women, aka khwaja siras or hijras; one is a friend of a close friend of mine.
In the eyes of the Pakistani government and anthropologists, they're a "third gender." They're denied access to many resources that are available to cis women. Trans women in Pakistan didn't decide to be third-gendered; cis people force it on them whether they like it or not.
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Western anthropologists are keen on seeing non-Western trans women as culturally constructed third genders, "neither male nor female," and often contrast them (a "legitimate" third gender accepted in its culture) with Western trans women (horrific parodies of female stereotypes).
There's a lot of smoke and mirrors and jargon used to obscure the fact that while each culture's trans women are treated as a single culturally constructed identity separate from all other trans women, cis women are treated as a universal category that can just be called "women."
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Even though Pakistani aurat and German Frauen and Guatemalan mujer will generally lead extraordinarily different lives due to the differences in culture, they are universally recognized as women.
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The transmisogynist will say, "Yes, but we can't ignore the way gender is culturally constructed, and hijras aren't trans women, they're a third gender. Now let's worry less about trans people and more about the rights of women in Burkina Faso."
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In other words, to the transmisogynist, all cis women are women, and all trans women are something else.
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"But Kat, you're not Indian or Pakistani. You're not a hijra or khwaja sira, why is this so important to you?"
Have you ever heard of the Neapolitan third gender "femminiello"? It's the term my moniker "The Femme in Yellow" is derived from, and yes, I'm Neapolitan. Shut up.
I'm going to tell you a little bit about the femminielli, and I want you to see if any of this sounds familiar. Femminielli are a third gender in Neapolitan culture of people assigned male at birth who have a feminine gender expression.
They are lauded and respected in the local culture, considered to be good omens and bringers of good luck. At festivals you'd bring a femminiello with you to go gambling, and often they would be brought in to give blessings to newborns. Noticing anything familiar yet?
Oh and also they were largely relegated to begging and sex work and were not allowed to be educated and many were homeless and lived in the back alleys of Naples, but you know we don't really like to mention that part because it sounds a lot less romantic and mystical.
And if you're sitting there, asking yourself why a an accurate description of femminiello sounds almost note for note like the same way hijras get described and talked about, then you can start to understand why that picture at the start of this post has so much meaning for me.
And you can also start to understand why I get so frustrated when I see other queer people buy into this fool notion that for some reason the transes from different cultures must never mix.
That friend I mentioned earlier is a white American trans woman. She spent years living in India, and as I recal the story the family she was staying with saw her as a white, foreign hijra and she was asked to use her magic hijra powers to bless the house she was staying in.
So when it comes to various cultural trans identities there are two ways we can look at this. We can look at things from a standpoint of expressed identity, in which case we have to preferentially choose to translate one word for the local word, or to leave it untranslated.
If we translate it, people will say we're artificially imposing an outside category (so long as it's not cis people, that's fine). If we don't, what we're implying, is that this concept doesn't exist in the target language, which suggests that it's fundamentally a different thing
A concrete example is that Serena Nanda in her 1990 and 2000 books, bent over backwards to say that Hijras are categorically NOT trans women. Lots of them are!
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And Don Kulick bent over backwards in his 1998 book to say that travesti are categorically NOT trans women, even though some of the ones he cited were then and are now trans women.
The other option, is to look at practice, and talk about a community of practice of people who are AMAB, who wear women's clothing, take women's names, fulfill women's social roles, use women's language and mannerisms, etc WITHIN THEIR OWN CULTURAL CONTEXT.
This community of practice, whatever we want to call it - trans woman, hijra, transfeminine, femminiello, fairy, queen, to name just a few - can then be seen to CLEARLY be trans-national and trans-cultural in a way that is not clearly evident in the other way of looking at things.
And this is important, in my mind, because it is this axis of similarity that is serving as the basis for a growing transnational transgender rights movement, particularly in South Asia. It's why you see pictures like this one taken at the 2018 Aurat March in Karachi, Pakistan.
And it also groups rather than splits, pointing out not only points of continuity in the practices of western trans women and fa'afafines, but also between trans women in South Asia outside the hijra community, and members of the hijra community both trans women and not.
To be blunt, I'm not all that interested in the word trans woman, or the word hijra. I'm not interested in the word femminiello or the word fa'afafine.
I'm interested in the fact that when I visit India, and I meet hijras (or trans women, self-expressed) and I say I'm a trans woman, we suddenly sit together, talk about life, they ask to see American hormones and compare them to Indian hormones.
There is a shared community of practice that creates a bond between us that cis people don't have. That's not to say that we all have the exact same internal sense of self, but for the most part, we belong to the same community of practice based on life histories and behavior.
I think that's something cis people have absolutely missed - largely in an effort to artificially isolate trans women. This practice of arguing about whether a particular "third gender" label = trans women or not, also tends to artificially homogenize trans women as a group.
You see this in Kulick and Nanda, where if you read them, you could be forgiven for thinking all American trans women are white, middle class, middle-aged, and college-educated, who all follow rigid codes of behavior and surgical schedules prescribed by male physicians.
There are trans women who think of themselves as separate from cis women, as literally another kind of thing, there are trans women who think of themselves as coterminous with cis women, there are trans women who think of themselves as anything under the sun you want to imagine.
The problem is that historically, cis people have gone to tremendous lengths to destroy points of continuity in the transgender community (see everything I've cited and more), and particularly this has been an exercise in transmisogyny of grotesque levels.
The question is do you want to talk about culturally different ways of being trans, or do you want to try to create as many neatly-boxed third genders as you can to prop up transphobic theoretical frameworks? To date, people have done the latter. I'm interested in the former.
I guess what I'm really trying to say with all of this is that we're all family y'all.
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aidaronan · 1 year
Text
Valentine's Day at the bar is always a bit chaotic. There are the couples who'd prefer something simplistic. There are the singles and groups who'd rather get fucked up than think about how no matter how emotionally evolved they feel the other 11 months of the year, February always tears down the walls and leaves them feeling raw.
Eddie gets it. He pours a little heavy for those ones even though he knows he'll probably have to clean up something unholy in one of the bathrooms later.
It takes him a while to notice the guy tucked away in one of the back booths. He'd seen him earlier when he came in, a white rose in his hand when he ordered a beer.
Eddie had registered him as cute, all pouty lips and perfect hair, with brown eyes that sometimes caught the light and bled green. But Eddie hadn't thought much about him after that. He'd written him off after seeing the flower, and there had been so so many drinks to pour.
"It's your turn." Chrissy tosses a damp rag at him, washes her hands, and goes back to mixing long islands at a breakneck pace.
Eddie bangs his hip on the corner of the bar, swearing on his way to clear and wipe down sticky tables. He finds rose guy nursing the same beer he'd sold him hours ago, the flower sitting in the middle of the table.
"Oh, sorry," Eddie says. "Thought this one was empty."
"It's fine. I should probably..." The guy drains the last dregs of room temperature beer. "You know what they say. Stand me up once, shame on you. Stand me up twice... Or whatever." He gives Eddie a smile that's more of a cringe, like he wishes he could take the words back the second he says them.
"Her loss." Eddie means it. If he had a guy like that, he'd be insufferable about him.
"His. I'm bi."
"Oh." Eddie glances back at Chrissy, her eyes already searching for him. "I have to get back before they go full Helm's Deep on the bar, but I tell you what. Next one's on me. Alliance of the lonely queers and all that." Eddie gives the guy a pat on his shoulder.
He doesn't really expect the guy to stick around, but he does. He takes Eddie's generous offer in the form of the cheapest beer on the menu, and he moves from the back booth to a seat at the bar.
When Eddie fucks up making a drink because he couldn't hear the order, he slides it next to the guy's Natty Light. "Please stop forcing yourself to drink that. It's painful to watch."
"It's fine. Brings back memories." "Of what? Vomiting outside of someone's shitty house party?"
Eddie can hear him laugh even over the noise. It's the best tip he's gotten all night. (Though he does notice the $5 the guy slips into the tip jar when he thinks Eddie's too busy theatrically mixing a mojito.)
"Alright bitches!" Chrissy hops up onto the bar with all the grace of someone who has a box full of old cheerleading medals in her closet. Eddie cuts the music, and her voice carries like she's leading a pep rally. "Last call!" She points at the crowd of drunks, most of them familiar enough with the bar to play along.
"For alcohol!" they finish for her, some of them rushing up to the ordering stations even while they holler.
The call and response goes on for a solid 30 seconds or so. Mid-pour, Eddie catches the stranger's eyes and gets a smile for it that almost knocks him on his ass. Eddie shakes spilled whiskey off his fingers.
"One more time," Chrissy yells. "Last call!"
"For alcohol!"
"As always drive safe and fuck safe." Chrissy pretends to curtsy in her jeans. "Cab numbers and condoms next to the payphones. Tip your bartenders or we'll find you." She hops down off the bar and starts taking final orders as the bar starts to empty.
Even after they shut down the register, the guy doesn't leave.
"Who's the dreamboat making eyes at you?" Chrissy asks, scrubbing glasses so fast Eddie's surprised she doesn't sprain her wrist.
"He is kind of a dreamboat, huh?"
She sighs. "I'll give you five minutes to secure a date, and then I need you to help me close so I can go home and take a hot bath. God, I want to cut off my feet."
"I want to replace my lower back with Terminator parts, so I get it. Thanks Chris." Eddie grabs a bar rag and makes his way down to the end. The stranger sits up straighter on his bar stool.
"Hey." An awkward scrub of the back of his neck. "Sorry if I misread anything. I can go if you aren't..." He fiddles with the now-limp rose, thumbing gently over one of the thorns. "Like I know you're working so you might have just been being-"
"Relax," Eddie says. "You didn't misread anything, dude." Eddie smiles at him and wipes drink rings off the countertop.
"Oh." A breath of relief. "Thank God for that because you...you're..." He shakes his head.
"Because I'm what? I will fish for a compliment for hours, man. Don't test me."
"And I will ruin shit by talking too much."
"Try me."
The guy sighs. "Because you're nice. Don't get me wrong, you're hot too. With the hair and the ripped jeans. Plus I've been making bets with myself all night about how many tattoos you have. But I don't need hot. I need nice. And you're nice."
"Oh." A beat. Eddie chews on his lip. "I don't know actually. How many tattoos I have, I mean." Ugh. "Like, I do try to be nice obviously, to everyone and especially to pretty guys. But if I got five different tattoos and then I connected them all into one piece, is that still five tattoos or is it one tattoo?" Seriously, Eddie has thought about this topic so much. Too much. "So depending on how you do tattoo math, I have anywhere from seventeen to twenty-nine tattoos. What's your name?"
"Steve. I'm Steve. Harrington."
"Oh, we're doing full names?" Eddie realizes he's been wiping the same part of the bar over and over again and stops. "I'm Eddie. Munson. So..." God, it's incredible that Eddie's still nervous given the situation, and yet. "So there's a 24-hour diner two blocks from here, Steve Harrington. Meet you when we're done closing up?"
"I question you referring to a Waffle House as a '24-hour diner,' but that sounds..." Steve laughs softly and ducks his head. "Nice. It sounds nice."
Eddie returns his soft smile and watches him leave, dropping the battered rose into the trash on the way out.
He and Chrissy close the bar in record time, and he sees her onto her bus with a kiss on the cheek.
"Have fun," she says.
"Enjoy your bath."
"God, I so will."
Eddie's halfway to the Waffle House when he runs into a street vendor closing up a little booth of bouquets meant for Valentine's Day stragglers. He finds himself thinking about that sad white rose, wondering if anyone's bought Steve flowers lately. Or ever.
"I'll take those yellow daisies," Eddie says, forking over a bit of cash. He second-guesses himself three or four times before he slides into the booth across from Steve and watches his face light up.
"My favorite color," Steve tells him. "And daisies are my favorite. My great-grandma always had them in her window when I was a kid. When my parents left town, we'd play card games in her living room and eat homemade fudge."
Silently, Eddie vows to get Steve Harrington yellow daisies as long as Steve will have him around.
"Mine would always drag me to bingo," Eddie says. "I loved it."
By the time they've both finished a stack of pancakes, Eddie has Steve's number scrawled in the blank space between 2-5 tattoos. Steve has Eddie's written on a napkin along with plans for their next date.
They talk on the phone every day until Eddie meets Steve for dinner, handing him a bouquet of happy yellow daisies, accepting a handful of deep purple calla lilies in return.
It's nice.
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unbidden-yidden · 10 months
Text
Honestly at this point, I'm really uninterested in hearing any gentile's "critique" of Judaism.
Whatever it is, whatever you're about to say, I am 1000% certain that at least one Jew has already raised this issue in ways that are thoughtful and centered in respect for other Jews. Probably lots of Jews; possibly whole theological movements. It's even possible that this particular topic has been under active discussion for hundreds or even thousands of years.
Someone has already said this better than you will. Someone has already raised whatever issue you have and grounded it in their own experiences of having lived a Jewish life.
So just leave it to us. Just stop. You're not helping. At best you're white-knighting, at worst you're actively contributing to an antisemitic majority culture.
"Well I've never seen Jews discussing [x] topic!" Your ignorance is not reality. These conversations are happening, possibly offline and at our Shabbos tables or shuls only, but they are happening.
"Well [x] topic impacts me personally!" Does it? Does it really? Because unless you live in Israel or Palestine, no Jewish group - no matter how seemingly numerous we may be in your city or neighborhood - is actually powerful enough to affect large-scale (or even typically small-scale) changes. Our fundamentalism is, for better or worse, directed at other Jews. The most intense thing I've heard of outside of Israel is a community getting together to petition the city to allow an eruv or a concentrated effort to make a few neighborhood blocks particularly Jewish because they're within walking distance of an orthodox shul. All other issues - no matter how ugly the opinions - are something that is part of much larger social trends that unfortunately some Jews happen to be engaging in. We'll deal with them; you focus on your people.
"I'm just listening to ex-fundamentalist Jews and white-knighting trying to help them be heard and not shouted down!" So first of all, if you knew anything about this topic, they typically call themselves OTD (which I'm sure you know what that stands for, because you've been listening) and secondly, great! You should listen to them. But their critiques are not your critiques. I can go on all day long about my family and their bullshit, and I can even (sometimes) appreciate you chiming in supportively. But it hits different when you go off chattering to other people about how my family is bullshit.
"Okay fine - I'm taking all that in and accept that my critiques aren't wanted, but what CAN I do, since I am literally vibrating in place about how Those People Over There Are Wrong and cannot simply ignore them?" Best thing you can do? Honestly? Learn about Judaism thoroughly from a variety of people, and learn how to be a good ally against antisemitism in all the spaces you want us in. Judaism not feminist enough for you? Learn how to make your feminist spaces safe and welcoming for Jews. Judaism not queer or trans enough for you? Learn how to make your queer and trans spaces safe and welcoming for Jews. Whatever movement you think we're not supporting enough or not showing up for enough, or whoever it is you think we're oppressing? Find the Jews who are doing that work (they exist, I promise) and listen to what they tell you about how to make your spaces be better.
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elliemontana · 4 months
Text
Ruin the friendship.
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Ellie Williams x Female reader
Summary: Ellie and you are best friends since you were teenagers. You never kept a single secret from her, and you have “helped” each other out to get the girls you’ve been interested in… but she has been lying to you. So, one day, you guys get stoned, and she blackmails you to fuck her. Could you ruin the friendship?
WARNINGS: dom¡ reader x sub¡ Ellie, strap mention, weed usage, oral, dirty talk, fingering, begging, degrading (slut, whore), edging, pet names (good girl, princess).
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Ellie and you are best friends since you guys were 13 years old. You met in school and immediately clicked once you found out you were both into soccer and started practicing together.
It has never been a secret that you like girls, you told Ellie about your first kiss story the second day you met. And she also confessed you that she has always been into girls. Being queer is one of your favorite topics to talk about.
Ellie has always had game, and also you. You usually help each other out to get girls. If a cutie catches your eye, you immediately tell Ellie about it, you can’t keep your mouth shut around her, and she’s always happy to help you grab the courage to talk to them, and viceversa.
Today is gonna be a good day. It’s Saturday, and both of you were invited to the quarterback’s birthday party at 9 pm.
You check the hour in your phone. It’s 7:30. “Fuck. I’m gonna be late.” - you mutter. You’re wearing pijamas, because you’ve been laying in bed all day, watching tiktoks, and wasting your time.
But you have to pick Ellie up. You’re late.
You quickly dress up, putting on your black worn out jeans, black converse, black T- shirt and a Leather jacket. Full black is never a crime.
You pick up your keys and rush out of home, not saying goodbye to your parents.
You get inside your car and speed up to get to Ellie’s house, so you decide to call her.
“Waddup els? You ready? I’m on my way.” - you say as soon as she picks up.
“You have to be kidding me. I forgot.” - She mutters through the phone, with a low tone and a sleepy voice.
You frown.
“What the fuck Ellie. Are you sleeping or something? Get the fuck up. I’m literally 4 blocks away.”
“Shit. Wait.” - She says, and like that, she hangs up. She always does that.
You throw your phone in your backseat, and arrive to her place.
You get out of the car, and knock on her door, loudly.
“Ellie!!!!” - You yell.
“I’m coming!” - She yells back from her window.
So you wait, until she’s ready, right outside her door.
And just like that, after waiting for 15 fucking minutes, she opens the door.
“Hello there.” - She says, smirking. She’s wearing a green flannel, blue jeans and a black beanie.
“You made me wait too much, I thought we’d agree you’d be ready by 8 pm. But let’s go.” - You say and she nods, following you as you hop in the car.
You start driving and look at her again. She never fails to look amazing. She has this weird ass smile and look in her face. But she looks pretty cute.
“You look good.” - You compliment your friend.
“And you look like shit.” - She says back and laugh.
“Can you stop messing with me for one second, Ellie?” - You say, as you roll your eyes.
“No. How could I even do that? Besides…admit that I look better than you right now. I’m gonna get all the bitches for sure.” - She says, with a cocky smile on her face.
“Bye.” - You reply. “Bet I’ll get more girls than you but okay…”
She rolls her eyes. “We’ll see.” - She says and keeps looking at you.
She has always thought you were pretty attractive though. She has always liked the way your lips form a smile, and your glances, and your style, and your beautiful eyes, and your hands…even more when you guys are playing video-games…and the way you’re all focused, and get pissed when you lose. She loves that.
She’s a total tease, and loves to mess up with your mood, just for fun…because she’s your best friend.
She looks at you while your eyes are focused on the road. Her eyes travel to your hands, and how they squeeze the wheel. She bites her lip. She can’t help but squeeze her thighs. She imagines the things those hands do to other girls.
And suddenly she’s frowning.
Damn…why is she thinking about her best friend like this?
“You good? You’re too quiet.” - You say and that makes her flinch out of her thoughts.
“Yeah yeah. Are we almost there?” - She asks, as she clears her throat.
“Mhmm.” - You say.
You see all these random people getting inside of the birthday boy’s big house and you park somewhere near the house.
“C’mon els.” - You tell her and she walks with you.
The place is too crowded. There’s too many people, and they’re already drinking like there’s no tomorrow. The whole place smells like smoke and weed.
“God…I hope I can smoke some weed today.” - She says loudly, but you can still her through the music.
“Yeah? You brought some?” - I ask her.
“No. But I might know someone that has that.” - She says and winks.
This is gonna be fun.
———————————————————————-
The party keeps on going. You don’t know what time it is, but you’ve had a few drinks and you don’t care.
You and Ellie have been dancing together the whole night, jumping around, and laughing.
“Fuckkkkkkkkk….” - She says. “I’m having so much fun right now.” - She confesses, laughing.
“Me too!!” -You say smiling. “We haven’t even been on the pretty girls around.” - I joke.
She stops smiling.
“Yeah. Right.” - She says.
Suddenly, I see a pretty girl, looking at me. She’s drinking, and dancing with her friends, but she’s smirking at me. She’s wearing a tiny little black dress that reveals a little, and leaves a lot to the imagination.
Ellie makes me come back to reality.
“What are you looking at?” - She says, standing in-front of me with her arms crossed.
“That girl is cute, ain’t she?” - I say, pointing at her and she waved at us.
Ellie rolls her eyes.
“No, she’s not.” - She blurts out. She’s drunk.
“Oh c’mon Ellie! She’s so our type.” -You tell her, expecting a smile or a laugh from her but she just stays serious.
“Not my type.” - She says, grabs my hand and starts dragging me to the kitchen.
“Um…since when are you not into hot fems…” - You say, weirded out.
She ignores your comment, and takes a little bag out of her pocket.
Joints.
“Holy fuck. When did you get that?” - I ask her in surprise. You were next to her the entire time….Maybe she bought them when she went to the bathroom.
“Don’t ask. Want some?” - She says, and takes a puff out, as she puts the little bag in her pocket.
“Yeah.” - I say and try to grab the joint out of her hand, but she grabs my wrist tightly.
“No. Not here.” - She says, too serious. Her eye contact is too fucking intense.
“Well…where then?” - I ask. “We’re literally in somebody else’s house right now.”
She doesn’t say a word and grabs your wrist to drag you somewhere again.
“What the-“
“Shut up.” - She says, and takes me to somebody’s dorm room in the house.
“Um…” - You say, and she lets you go to close the door behind you.
“Wanna smoke with you. But not in-front of everyone.” - She says as she sits on the bed and you sit on a chair, that is close by the bed.
“Come closer.” - She says, and takes the lighter out of her pocket to light the cigarette.
You get up and walk towards her to sit next to her as she takes the first hit. She looks like she’s really enjoying it, inhaling the substance and looking directly in your eyes while she exhales it.
“May I?” - You say, putting your hand on her hand, to take the joint.
“Mhm.” - She says, and you take it out of her mouth, and inhale. She’s looking at how you take your time smoking it.
“Why are you so serious Ellie?” - You ask her. “You mad or something?”
You feel certain tension between you two. Something you haven’t felt. Ever.
-“No. ‘m not.” - She says as she looks at your hand, offering the joint back to her. “Why would I be mad?” - She says, and inhales.
“Um…I don’t know. You tell me. Have I done something wrong?” - You ask, concerned. You care about her. “Was it because I rushed you to be ready when I picked you up?”
“No.” - Is all she says.
You look down. She’s definitely acting fucking weird.
“Tell me Ellie.”
“No. I’m good.” - She hums.
“Was it…because I had more game than you today?” - You smirk, remembering the cute girl that was looking at you and expecting her to react somehow. But she doesn’t.
“Don’t bring that shit up.” - she says.
“Oh so it’s that…” - You say, and take a hit.
She stays quiet.
“Talk Ellie. Fucking talk.” - You say, now getting a little bit annoyed.
“Yeah. It’s about her.” - She says, making eye contact with you the entire time.
“Fuck…you like her or something? Ellie, I would never get in between you an-
“I don’t want her looking at you.” -She cuts you off.
What.
“Um.” That caught you off guard. “I mean…is she mean? Or is she a bad person? You’ve never been worried about who I mess around with…” - You say and she chuckles.
But that little laugh sounds sassy as fuck.
“I just don’t want her around you.” - She confesses.
Deep inside she feels like she’s saying too much, but she doesn’t really care anymore. She admits to herself that she has been swallowing her jealousy when you bring a girl into the conversations. She’s been trying to “help” you, while she threatens the girls you like, only for them not to call you back, or show up in the dates.
She’s been trying to fucking cockblock you, and you have no fucking idea why every girl you flirt with has been ignoring you after having sex.
“She might just be like all the girls you know?” She says, smirking. “And leave you waiting.”
That hurts your ego.
“Shut the fuck up.” - You say, a little pissed.
“You should listen to me, and stop fucking with all these girls, if they’re gonna keep leaving.” - She says, hiding her true intentions with you.
“You’re a fucking bitch for bringing this up. They like me!” - You reply.
“Do they?…” - She pauses. “Maybe you just don’t fuck them good enough.”
Oh.
“The fuck did you just say?” - You say. You’re mad and that has her smirking like crazy. She’s playing with you, and you have no fucking idea.
“You heard me angel.”
That makes your head ring.
“Maybe you just don’t fuck them good enough. Your stroke game is weak? Maybe you don’t have them squirming beneath you like you should, and that’s why they go…” - She teases.
You cross your arms.
“Fuck you. I fuck them real good.” - You say and that makes her clench her fists.
She doesn’t like the thought of you fucking another girl. Making them squirt all over your strap, making them scream your name in pleasure. She swallows her feelings and says:
“Talk your talk. But I’ve heard them talk.” She lies. “Poor you, thinking you actually made them cum.”
“Fucking shut up.” - You say.
“Or what?” - She replies, and smirks.
Oh my god. She’s insane.
If she wasn’t your best friend, you’d probably be fucking her dumb like a slut right now, and proving her wrong. But she doesn’t mean it like that…Does she?
I mean, She’s fucking hot, but she’s not really your type….
Masc lesbian? Dominant in bed? A fucking tease?
Nah…you like pretty, bratty, submissive girls.
You flinch when you feel her hand on your thigh, and you look at her tattooed arm, and how she starts tracing circles with her thumb on it.
Fuck.
Why did that make your fucking pussy throb?
How could you fuck her? You could never ruin such a beautiful friendship like this, could you?
“What are you doing?” - you blurt out. You can’t think straight. Your best friend is literally touching your leg right now.
“I don’t know. What am I doing?” - She teases, with her hand still on your thigh.
“Ellie…” You start saying but she cuts you off.
“You know what? Maybe you should just..,get your reputation back, you know?” - She says and you raise your eyebrow.
“What?” - You say, truly confused.
“Yeah…you know…maybe I could tell them you can actually fuck.” - She says looking at her own hand on your thigh now, as she brings it closer to your crotch.
The way she’s touching you has your pussy clenching. And you hate it.
Or do you?
“Yeah…you should tell them that…” - You hiss.
“Mhm..” - She says. “But what will I get in return?”
Woah.
“Uh…what? What do you mean by that Ellie?” - You say, when I’m the back of your head, and by the way she’s touching you, you know what she wants.
“Fuck me.” That’s it for you. “Fuck me good, and I’ll tell everyone that talks shit about you that you’re a god in bed.”
She’s fucking lying. Everyone says you’re good in bed, but she just needs you so bad. And she knows your ego is easy to hurt. She’s gonna get what she wants.
“You’re…you’re out of your fucking mind Ellie.” - You say, but then you feel her hand on your crotch. Touching you the way you’ve never thought you’d be touched by her.
And it has you fucking aching.
“Yeah? Am I? I’m just saying…If you wanna get your stupid reputation back…you’re gonna have to fuck me.” - She says, confident.
You look at her green eyes, the way her lips form a devilish smile and you wanna throw yourself at her.
What’s wrong with you?
“Fuck it.” - You finally say, as you grab her face and kiss her.
She moans into the kiss, and hums as she puts her hands on your waist.
You deepen the kiss, forcing your tongue inside of her mouth and she gladly takes it. Making out with you.
This feels good. Too fucking good, you’re a soaking wet mess, and you just wanna know if she is too.
You move your hand to her jeans, and quickly unbutton them, with one hand. Sliding your fingers inside of her boxers.
She’s soaked.
“Fuck.” You mutter on her lips. “Fucking wet already? Huh? Wanted me to fuck you so bad?” - You say and she nods in response.
“Don’t pretend like you aren’t fucking drenching for me too, bitch.” - She talks back.
“Oh yeah? You wanna talk back huh?” -You say, as you slide a finger inside of her with no warning, and you start plumping them in and out of her.
She moans in response and throws her head back.
“Cat got your fucking tongue huh? Gonna make you shut the fuck up.” - You say.
You enjoy being rough with her, and by the way she’s clenching your fingers, you can tell she likes it too.
You throw her on the bed and take her jeans off, leaving her with her boxers on.
You get on top of her kiss her neck, and all of her body.
You trail little kisses on her cleavage, down to her stomach and she’s a whimpering mess.
“Want me to taste you?” - I say.
“Lick my fucking pussy already.” - She replied boldly.
Alright.
You lick her perfect belly, and position yourself in between her legs, and you decide to keep teasing her. She deserves it.
You pull her boxers down a little bit, revealing her little clit, and smirking at how wet she is.
“Fucking whore. You just wanted me to fuck you dumb didn’t you?” - You say, and before she can say anything, you put your tongue on her clit, and start tracing little circles with it, you flick your tongue all over it, and suck on it like a pro.
She feels like she’s in heaven, with your mouth pleasing her, and her only. But the thought of you with other women, with their legs spread open for you hits her again.
The thought of that fucking pisses her off, so she grabs your hair, and presses your head against her center, forcing you to suck rougher on her pussy.
she’s using your mouth like a fucking toy, and groaning in pleasure.
“Suck on it bitch, c’mon. Fuck.” - She cussed out, smirking as she thrusts her hips onto your mouth.
That catches you by surprise, but you make sure to tongue fuck her, just to hear how loud her moans are getting.
“Oh fuck yeah…just like that.” - You look up at her, and she’s a moaning mess, her grip on your hair is now weak, and she’s shaking.
You grab her thighs roughly, and slap them.
She immediately flinches.
“You think you can just use my mouth like that, huh?” - You slap her clit and she moans, hands gripping the sheets. “Trying to make yourself fucking cum? Oh no, princess…you’re gonna have to beg for it.” - You say, as you slide a finger inside of her.
She’s a fucking mess. She wanted this for so fucking long, and now she’s getting it. Her best friend is fucking her pussy so good, she feels like she’s about to cry.
“Holy fuck!” - She says.
“Yeah? You like it don’t you?” - You say, and you can’t handle the ache between your legs. It’s even painful. The way your finger goes in and out of her so easily from her soakness blows your mind, and has you creaming in your boxers.
“Fuck yeah. Please…” - She says, not giving a fuck about begging, even though she doesn’t even know what she’s begging for at the moment.
You add another finger, and slide them in and out roughly, feeling her clenching on them like crazy.
She’s about to cum.
“Fuck yes yes yes, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me just like that.” - She begs.
“Don’t you dare fucking cum yet, you filthy slut.” - You command, and she rolls her eyes in pleasure.
She definitely likes when you call her like that. She never imagined she would like getting dominated and degraded by another woman, but everytime she was alone, she fucked herself thinking about how good you’d take her from behind.
As much as she wanted to do the same to you, you’re too much for her too handle. She’s so close to cumming all over your fingers right now.
“Oh my fuck- fucking god!” - Your fingers keep going in and out of her pussy, and you lick her puffy clit while you finger-fuck her.
You lick it up and down, flick it slowly with your tongue, leave little kisses on it, own it like a fucking pro.
“Who fucking owns this pussy? Huh?” - You ask and she can barely talk. She’s too drunk in the feeling of your sweet licks.
“You. You do.” - She confesses as she starts clenching your fingers, she’s close again.
“You’ll cum when I tell you to fucking cum okay?” - You say and she nods. “Good girl.” - You compliment her.
“If you can take my fingers this fucking well, like such a fucking whore…imagine how good you’d take my cock.” - I say and she puts her hand on her mouth, to cover her moans and i quickly slap her thigh clit again.
“Don’t fucking cover your mouth. I wanna hear you.” - She nods and puts her hand on my head, now caressing it. “You like that don’t you? The thought of cumming all over my cock, milking me fucking dry.”
“Holy fuck. Let me cum…please let me cum, I’ll do anything, please.”- She says…And I feel her walls biting my fingers…
“So desperate.” - I smirk. “Fucking cum baby, cum like you’d cum on my dick.” - I tell her and she cums so fucking hard, i even hurts my fingers. But I like it so much, I’m edging myself so good to this.
“That’s it baby, good, good fucking girl.” - I praise her and press little kisses on her clit, with my fingers still inside of her.
“Fuck…oh my god.” - She bites her lip and runs her hands through her hair.
I pull my fingers out of her and get on top of her to kiss her lips softly.
“You did so good.” - I praise her, and lay next to her. She looks at me and smiles. “You fucked me so good, just like I thought you would.”
I chuckle.
“Yeah? You gonna tell them girls I’m good in bed now?” - I tease her.
“No. You’re mine.” - She says. Suddenly serious again.
What?
“I actually lied to you, they never said you suck in bed. They always say you’re too good at eating pussy.” - She confesses and rolls her eyes. “They brag about it all the time. But the truth is…that I’m jealous.”
“They don’t talk to you after the first link because…I threaten them not to get near you…I tell them I’ll put drugs in their backpacks and get them expelled.” - she confesses.
Holy shit. She’s fucking Evil.
All this fucking time? She has been ruining your dates?
Why? Does she like you? She just said she’s jealous. But jealous as a friend or…
“What the fuck. And you lied to me right now?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I just…I just wanted you so bad. I’m…I like you. A lot.” - She says, looking straight into your eyes and you’re suddenly weak.
Your best friend, the girl that was screaming your name beneath you a few minutes ago, likes you.
Oh my god…
I’ve been so stupid.
You remember all those times she has frowned when you have mentioned those girls to her, that one time when she almost kissed you when she was drunk…that other time when you found her diary, and your name was written all over it.
You thought she just really cared about you as a friend…but after this?
What could happen?
Could you ruin the friendship?
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URGENT! Stop KOSA!
Hey all, this is BáiYù and Sauce here with something that isn't necessarily SnaccPop related, but it's important nonetheless. For those of you who follow US politics, The Kids Online Safety Act passed the Senate yesterday and is moving forward.
This is bad news for everyone on the internet, even outside of the USA.
What is KOSA?
While it's officially known as "The Kids Online Safety Act," KOSA is an internet censorship masquerading as another "protect the children" bill, much in the same way SESTA/FOSTA claimed that it would stop illegal sex trafficking but instead hurt sex workers and their safety. KOSA was originally introduced by Sen. Edward Markey, D-Mass. and Bill Cassidy, R-La. as a way to update the 1998 Children’s Online Privacy Act, raising the age of consent for data collection to 16 among other things. You can read the original press release of KOSA here, while you can read the full updated text of the bill on the official USA Congress website.
You can read the following articles about KOSA here:
EFF: The Kids Online Safety Act is Still A Huge Danger to Our Rights Online
CyberScoop: Children’s online safety bills clear Senate hurdle despite strong civil liberties pushback
TeenVogue: The Kids Online Safety Act Would Harm LGBTQ+ Youth, Restrict Access to Information and Community
The quick TL;DR:
KOSA authorizes an individual state attorneys general to decide what might harm minors
Websites will likely preemptively remove and ban content to avoid upsetting state attorneys generals (this will likely be topics such as abortion, queerness, feminism, sexual content, and others)
In order for a platform to know which users are minors, they'll require a more invasive age and personal data verification method
Parents will be granted more surveillance tools to see what their children are doing on the web
KOSA is supported by Christofascists and those seeking to harm the LGBTQ+ community
If a website holding personally identifying information and government documents is hacked, that's a major cybersecurity breach waiting to happen
What Does This Mean?
You don't have to look far to see or hear about the violence being done to the neurodivergent and LGBTQ+ communities worldwide, who are oftentimes one and the same. Social media sites censoring discussion of these topics would stand to do even further harm to folks who lack access to local resources to understand themselves and the hardships they face; in addition, the fact that websites would likely store personally identifying information and government documents means the death of any notion of privacy.
Sex workers and those living in certain countries already are at risk of losing their ways of life, living in a reality where their online activities are closely surveilled; if KOSA officially becomes law, this will become a reality for many more people and endanger those at the fringes of society even worse than it already is.
Why This Matters Outside of The USA
I previously mentioned SESTA/FOSTA, which passed and became US law in 2018. This bill enabled many of the anti-adult content attitudes that many popular websites are taking these days as well as the tightening of restrictions laid down by payment processors. Companies and sites hosted in the USA have to follow US laws even if they're accessible worldwide, meaning that folks overseas suffer as well.
What Can You Do?
If you're a US citizen, contact your Senators and tell them that you oppose KOSA. This can be as an email, letter, or phone call that you make to your state Senator.
For resources on how to do so, view the following links:
https://www.badinternetbills.com/#kosa
https://www.stopkosa.com/
https://linktr.ee/stopkosa
If you live outside of the US or cannot vote, the best thing you can do is sign the petition at the Stop KOSA website, alert your US friends about what's happening, and raise some noise.
Above all else, don’t panic. By staying informed by what’s going on, you can prepare for the legal battles ahead.
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memryse · 11 months
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if mcyt isn’t fiction then
people who create dnd characters that are similar to them in personality are just playing themselves and should not be treated as having made a character
people who make any other dnd character should also be treated as just playing themselves since people refuse to even consider roleplay smps as fiction
any ocs someone puts a bit of themselves into? nope not fiction!
actors who play a character with the same first name as them aren’t really acting
and so on
maybe YOU can’t separate characters and real people and think that everything you see from a youtuber even when they’re explicitly acting is how they are in real life but we as a fandom just don’t have that issue lol. we’ve had disclaimers and indicators for when we’re talking about characters and not content creators for years because a certain smp contained a character having suicidal thoughts as a result of abuse at the hands of another character and we needed to make it absolutely crystal clear that we were referring to a fictional storyline and not real guy #1 being an abuser and real guy #2 being suicidal. these customs have either extended into other corners of mcyt fandom, or some developed their own independently like hispanic mcyt fans have used the word cubito to distinguish mc guy from real life guy from years, a term that other language speakers liked so much we’ve also started picking it up lol
we know exactly what we’re doing. i get that the line maybe does seem more blurred to an outsider looking in (i wouldn’t know given that both my first fandom at age 12 and current fandom at age 20 were mcrp lol) but it’s universally understood amongst us. i don’t have a problem separating hermitcraft!gem and empires s1!gem the wizard with a twin brother and empires s2!gem the princess and cc!gem the real life canadian woman.
idk it rubs me the wrong way that after years of trying to explain this we’re either met with people calling us racists because of three guys that the rest of us (all of us, really, because dream team fans do not claim to be minecraft fans. those are the type to actually write rpf and ship the real life racist guys) hate probably a lot more than any of you do, or they watch a few minutes of a less roleplay-heavy series/part and decide that the entire medium is invalid as a form of storytelling
it’s so annoying. i don’t think we need to be understood to have validity as a fandom we’ve been doing this for years already without that but it is so infuriating and sad how whenever there’s some kind of fandom poll thing one of three things happens
mcyt fans are banned outright and placed on the same level as something like hp
an mcyt fan runs their own and gets harassed for it
a non-mcyt fan allows us in until they get harassed so badly by whatever fandoms we go up against that they end up deleting our bracket
in what world is that normal behaviour. and that harassment always involves calling them all racist cishet white men such as misgendering both eret (real life bisexual genderqueer person) and their character (also queer), attempting to harass jimmy solidarity fans because jimmy makes mc videos so he must be a dream associate (the only time they interacted was in a tournament during which dream and georgenotfound shittalked jimmy’s best friends to his face), all the shit quackity has gotten for being a former friend of the dream team as if he wasn’t the #1 victim of their racism and xenophobia, the fact that any time c!technoblade is involved in a poll we have to beg other fandoms not to talk shit about him because the real life man died of cancer before dream’s grooming allegations came out, similarly when tfc was in one. and so on and so forth. all because people can’t separate roleplay and real life and think that the entire minecraft sphere revolves around dream just because their idea of mcyt does (not even his own smp named after him did that).
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I am so glad that Tay is calling out people who said he was being disrespectful to his fans.
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At the same time, I am bothered at how much he and New still felt the need to make excuses, saying that it was wrong of them to livestream while playing the game, to explain that people are misinterpreting things, etc, etc. Because they shouldn't have to do any of that.
So I know we likely don't have any QL actors on Tumblr (though I would wager we would be a healthier environment for them than Twitter), but for the record I want to say to them:
You are allowed to have separation between your job and your personal life.
You are allowed to do the level of fan service you are comfortable with. No one is entitled to demand more of you than you are willing to give.
You are allowed to have a life outside of your branded pair.
You can kiss whoever you want, romantic, platonic, in between. Kiss all the homies. Kiss none of the homies. It's up to you. No one is entitled to demand an explanation or apology for you living your life.
You don't have to clarify the status of your relationship with anyone.
You don't have to say anything about your sexuality or gender identity that you are not comfortable with sharing.
I am proud of how infrequently I come across this kind of thing in our space here, but if I do see anyone acting like a heteronormative homophobic little idiot and making these kinds of demands, I will immediately block. You are being actively anti-queer with this behavior. Actors are human beings, not your puppets, go out and touch some damn grass.
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gatheringbones · 15 days
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[“Too many of us have chosen to live in sexually ambiguous, sexually boring, sexually dead lesbian relationships because it wasn't safe to talk about desire---desire for cock, desire for pussy, desire for leather, desire for diversity. Exploring my desire for men has led me in an interesting circle---back to my incredible passion for womyn. My queer world will have to stretch (again) to make room for my fantasies, and perhaps even an affair or two. It will have to stretch to make room for whatever I desire.
Finally I realize what I am so afraid of. I am afraid that men and penises have so much power in this heteropatriarchal world that simply desiring one can invalidate 25 years of deep womon-loving. I'm afraid that lesbianism is so fragile that it needs to be protected by an iron fence. I am afraid that by desiring a cock, I will be excommunicated, torn away from the world of womyn. I am afraid that if I allow myself to open, perhaps I will want more. This is why a lesbian wanting a man demands so much courage. Courage to stand outside of identity politics, to insist that our community grow to accept all of us.
My lesbianism is as sure and solid as the Himalayas, as predictable as the seasons and the phases of the moon, as familiar as a womon in my arms ("Wherever I go, there's one thing I know, I'm sure to have a womon around me"). My desire for men is as fleeting as good chocolate and ripe strawberries---not always available, sometimes bitter and disappointing, often intoxicating as nectar, somewhat allergic, and extremely tempting.
I can live with all these desires. I will not compromise myself again. Fitting in is less important than filling out. There is a revolution afoot, and it is stretching the parameters of the old gay life. The hundredth monkey. A friend says, "Oy, I'm not ready for this century." But she is. She is.
Just when I thought I'd made some sense of these desires for men and had come to peace with them, my ex-lover called. The butch who couldn't communicate and who could never fuck me right. She has something to share, something important, something very personal. She has decided to come out as a transgendered person---bi-gendered, s/he calls it. S/he has come to realize that s/he has both a male body and a female body. Hir language may be new, but the experience is familiar.
It was hir male body I always wanted. I'd called it butch. S/he says that when s/he is in hir male body s/he desires men; when s/he is in hir female body s/he desires womyn. In other words, s/he's as queer as a $3 bill.
Suddenly, a fog begins to clear. If I desired hir male body and hir male body desires men, and when s/he is in hir female body s/he desires womyn, then s/he must've wanted me womon to womon (or man to man?), while I wanted hir butch to femme (Dare I say, male to female?). Suddenly our sex problems become very clear.
I always felt hir switch. As I filled with desire, wanting hir hardness, her maleness, s/he would become soft, almost girly, and it was like someone pulled the plug on the bathtub, the desire leaked out of me, leaving me--us--empty.
This starts me thinking about the lover before hir. The one with the sweet curls in her hair, the big round belly, and the soft eyes. The kinky one, where anything goes. She loves my femme self, calls me bitch and desires to fell me with hardness, to force me into submission.
Somehow though, it never quite worked. I am beginning to see what went wrong. This one wanted butch/femme, boy/girl sex, and I wanted lezzie sex. I loved hir female body and wanted to touch her. S/he wanted to give me hir male body. When I tried to touch hir breasts, I was reminding hir that she was a womon and was therefore rejecting her power. The lover s/he picked after me identified as a heterosexual woman (although she too used to be a radical dyke). When my ex-lover told me this new lover wouldn't touch her (after all she did identify as straight), I thought, how terrible, such internalized homophobia. Now I am beginning to understand how, by ignoring the girl body, the boy could feel his power. It got old fast, but for a while it worked, fed the rejected boy place inside.
I began this piece saying I hadn't had a man in 15 years. I am beginning to suspect that I've had many men. They'd called themselves butches.
I suppose none of this makes sense if you just think about biological bodies. These girls definitely had female bodies, tits and ass, and oh, so lovely to touch. But there is no doubt that these womyn have also had dicks. I've never said this out loud before, because dick is a dirty lesbian word. But I have been filled by womyn's dicks, and no, they are not "just" dildos.”]
Lionheart, from wanting men, from genderqueer: voices beyond the binary, edited by Riki wilchins, 2002
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xiaq · 1 year
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Part 1 Here
Prompts combined for Pt. 2 are : Outsider POV, Steve Harrington is an idiot (affectionate), Wayne Finds Out, and Everyone is Queer Because I Said So.
Wayne Munson knows he’s not the best parental figure. He never liked kids. Never wanted kids. And he nearly said no when the social worker called asking if he wanted to take guardianship of his thirteen-year-old nephew. Because surely there was someone better suited. Except then the social worker told him why Eddie had been removed from his father’s care. About the magazines Eddie’s father had found in Eddie’s backpack that preceded him kicking Eddie out. About the fights Eddie had been getting into at school. About the song lyrics his temporary foster had found in his journal. And suddenly Wayne wasn’t so sure there was a better option. He knew there had to be people more equipped to raise a traumatized queer teenager, but there was no guarantee Eddie would end up with one of them. The opposite was far more likely. Wayne knew firsthand that much of the world was unkind to people like them.
In the years that follow, they don’t talk about it. He figured once he’d won the kid’s trust, Eddie would bring it up in his own time. Or maybe Eddie would ask why Wayne spends a weekend in Indy once a month or maybe ask who he’s spending the weekends with. But somehow those conversations never happen and Wayne doesn’t force them. 
It’s not until he finds Steve Fucking Harrington keeping vigil at Eddie’s hospital bedside that he thinks maybe he should have pushed the issue sooner. 
Because Harrington looks like he’s been through a war. He’s covered in blood and grime; only his arms, washed to his elbows where he’s holding Eddie’s hand, are clean. He’s looking at Eddie with naked emotion. And, perhaps most damning, he’s wearing Eddie’s battle jacket.
When Wayne enters the room, Harrington startles and says, “Hi. I’m Steve Harrington,” like Wayne and everyone else in Hawkins weren’t already aware of that.
“I know who you are. I know who your father is, too.”
“I’d uh, prefer you didn’t hold that against me.”
Wayne makes no promises. “How do you know Eddie?”
“We’re…friends,” Steve says. There’s a continent of things unsaid behind the word.
“And how are you in his room past visiting hours?”
“I bribed the nurse," he admits. “I didn’t want him to be alone.”
“Well. On that, we’re agreed. But I’m here now. And no offense, kid, but you look like you should be in one of these beds yourself.”
“Yeah. I told them once you got here I’d let them stitch me up. It’s not anything life-threatening.” He says this with the resigned intonation of someone who is familiar with the difference.
What the fuck has Eddie gotten himself involved in?
Harrington stands. It’s a slow, painful, movement, and he only lets go of Eddie’s hand at the last possible second. “Can I—I’d like to come back. After. If you don’t mind.”
Wayne considers him. He considers Eddie’s blood-smeared vest on the kid’s shoulders. He realizes, belatedly, that Eddie’s guitar pick necklace is hanging around Harrington’s bruised throat, the rings usually crammed onto Eddie’s fingers lined up on either side of the pick.
“Sure,” he says. “Be nice to have some company. And you can tell me what the hell happened.”
Harington sighs. “Not sure how much I’m allowed to tell. Or how much you’ll believe. But I can try.”
Wayne takes his place holding Eddie’s hand.
He tries to ignore the fact that Harrington stands in the doorway for more than a minute, just looking, before finally slipping into the hall.
He’s back a few hours later, clearly showered, wrapped in gauze, and wearing the preppiest goddamn outfit. Honestly, Wayne can’t fathom how Eddie and Harrington have anything in common. He’s also still wearing the necklace, though. And when he pulls up a chair to sit on the opposite side of Eddie’s bed, he removes the necklace and carefully, downright tenderly, returns the rings to Eddie’s fingers. Wayne notices, almost despite himself, that Harrington isn’t just guessing at the placement, either. He knows. So either he’s intimately familiar with Eddie’s fingers––something that, as impossible as it sounds, is starting to seem more and more likely––or he’s particularly observant. And that kind of observance speaks to its own sort of devotion. 
Wayne isn’t excited about either of these options.
He’s trying to figure out how to ask if Steve Fucking Harrington is Eddie’s boyfriend without scaring him away when Eddie shifts, which has Wayne and Steve both jumping to their feet.
“Wayne?” he murmurs. And Wayne isn’t one for emotional displays but he finds himself participating in one for the next few minutes nonetheless.
Once he gets ahold of himself, Eddie’s head turns, slow with painkillers, to see Harrington.
“Stevie,” he says, grinning. “Hey. I’m not dead.”
“Despite your best efforts,” Steve chokes out. His hands are fisted under his armpits and he looks about five seconds away from crying. Not that Wayne can judge since he’s more than five seconds into crying.
“What did I tell you, what did you promise?” Harrington snarls.
Eddie’s grin dims. “Not to be a hero. But Dustin––shit. Dustin. Is he...”
“Fine. Sprained ankle. Pissed as hell at you. Everyone else is fine too. Max is down the hall. She has some broken bones but she’ll be alright.”
“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs. “How did I—“
“We went back for you.”
“We?”
“I,” Harrington grits out. “I went back for you. Thought you were dead. Carried you back anyway. Didn’t realize you were still breathing until we got you in the car. Drove like hell to the hospital.”
And that’s. Well, shit. Apparently, Wayne is going to need to temper his distrust of this particular Harrington. Because it sounds like he saved Eddie’s goddamn life.
“He also refused treatment and waited with you until I got here,” Wayne feels he has to add. “Despite the fact he was bleeding everywhere.”
Eddie glances between them, eyes huge. “Shit. I’m sorry. Hey, no, don’t––”
Steve is crying now, not even trying to hide it, and Eddie holds out a hand, wincing. “Come here, man, I’m fine. Or I’ll probably be fine, right?”
“So says the doctor,” Wayne agrees. 
Steve doesn’t need a second invitation.
He all but collapses, carefully, into Eddie’s outstretched arms, and Eddie’s hands bunch into the fabric of Steve’s sweatshirt and he crams his face into Steve’s neck and they’re so––their obvious, desperate, affection for each other is so unapologetic that Wayne has to look away.
 It’s not until later, when they’ve hashed out the basics of the insane upside-down phenomenon, that they finally convince Steve to go home and sleep.
He waits ten seconds after the door has closed to exhale, pressing his palms into his eyes.
“Jesus, kid. I knew you had expensive taste with cigarettes and guitars but this? He’s the closest thing to royalty this town has.”
Eddie lets out a hysterical little warble of a laugh. “No. No, no. That’s not—we’re not.”
“What the hell are you then?”
“Friends. Bonded through extreme trauma.”
“But you’d like to be more than friends.”
Eddie looks at him askance “I’ll take what I can get and I won’t ask for more,” he says quietly.
Unfortunately, Wayne is well familiar with that kind of love. He just can’t get Steve’s expression out of his head. The gentle way he’d replaced Eddie’s rings. He doesn’t think Eddie’s interest is as one-sided as Eddie does. But he doesn’t want to meddle. He’s certain they’ll figure themselves out.
Two months later, Wayne is starting to think they’re both idiots. Because half the time when he gets home from his evening bar shift––a new job after the plant disappeared into the fiery abyss––Steve’s BMW is parked down the street and when he cracks Eddie’s bedroom door he finds them cuddled up, asleep. Sometimes he’ll go to rent a movie and Steve will be wearing a shirt that Wayne knows is Eddie’s and half the time when he wakes Eddie up in the mornings he’s wearing a pastel sweater monogrammed with initials that don’t belong to Eddie. He’d think they’re together and keeping it quiet if not for the fact that Eddie is driving him absolutely insane with pining. He’s written three songs about longing and heartbreak in the last two weeks and if Wayne has to listen to one more wailing ballad he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.
He’s walking back from the bar after closing, only a mile from the new fancy trailer the government had installed for them when he passes Harrington’s conspicuous vehicle a few houses down. He sighs. The boy really has no sense of subtly. 
He’s expecting to find them, as usual, asleep in a tangle of limbs, except when he reaches the porch stairs, he can hear the boys talking.
He pauses with his hand on the railing.
“What are you doing,” Eddie murmurs, voice just carrying from the open living room window.
“Well. I’d like to kiss you, if you’d let me.”
About damn time, Wayne thinks.
“Steve, wait,” Eddie says. And it’s so quiet, so uncertain, that Wayne is tempted to open the door right then if only to prevent Ed from sounding so broken.
“I can’t be a practice run for you,” Eddie says, “Please. I can’t. I wouldn’t survive that.”
“A––what the fuck, Eddie.”
“It’s just, I know this is new to you and I’m, obviously, all about exploration and, um, finding yourself. Congratulations. Yay. But I can’t be an experiment. Not with you. I can’t.”
“You’re not an experiment,” Harrington says, voice a little louder than Wayne would prefer, given the circumstances. The trailer park isn’t exactly spacious. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. I want to kiss you because I’m in love with you, how could you think—besides. This isn’t that new. I’ve kissed other guys.”
“You’ve what? Who? When?”
“Just. You know. Friends messing around. I didn’t know that made me bisexual until I talked about it with Robin but apparently, I’ve been kinda gay this whole time.”
“I’m sorry. You thought making out with your basketball buddies was…a standard heterosexual pastime?”
“Well, when you say it like that.”
“What other way is there to say it?”
“Okay,” Steve says, “I already had this conversation with Robin this morning. I don’t need to rehash it again. So I’m a little bit of an idiot. Memo received.”
“Jesus, Harrington. You just found out bisexuality was a thing this morning and now you’re here, what, asking me to be your boyfriend?”
“I mean, yeah. Ideally.”
“You don’t do anything by halves, do you.” Eddie sounds disgustingly fond.
“Eddie. I just said I love you.”
“You did,” Eddie says, high and cracked. “You did say that.”
“So if we could refocus.”
“Right.”
“I don’t expect you to say it back, but––”
“God, you really are an idiot. Of course I fucking love you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
And then that’s––well, that’s probably his nephew getting his first kiss from Steve Fucking Harrington.
Wayne decides to give them to a count of thirty before interrupting, but just as he’s about to stomp his way up the stairs, Eddie says, “Sorry, sorry, I’ve never done this before.”
“Hey, no. It’s ok. Neither have I, really. But you’re crazy if you think I’m going to fuck you right now,” Steve says.
“I meant kissing. Hold on, does that mean you would be willing to fuck me later?”
Wayne winces. There are things he does not need to hear come out of his nephew’s mouth.
“Wait,” Steve interrupts, “You’ve never been kissed before? How is that possible?”
“Who would have kissed me?” Eddie hisses, “ I’m the town pariah. And until I met Robin I didn’t know any other queer people existed in Hawkins. Though apparently, I should have just joined the basketball team since you’re having orgies or whatever.”
“The first two were on the swim team,” Steve says. 
“First two. How many were there?”
Steve ignores him. “And that wasn’t––you’re so hot, though. And your band has played in bigger cities. Haven’t you ever gone up to Indy to any of the bars there?”
“I need you to understand,” Eddie says, “that I am 90% bravado and 100% anxiety.”
“That’s not how percentages work.”
“Steve.”
“Sorry. Okay. Well, if this is your first kiss then I better make it good, huh?”
“Yes. That is absolutely the burden placed upon your capable shoulders should you choose to––oh.”
Eddie stops talking and doesn’t start again, though he does make a breathy little noise that Wayne takes as his cue.
He stomps up the stairs as loudly as possible, fumbling longer than necessary with the door handle, and pushes his way inside.
The boys are both shirtless, clearly in the process of shoving themselves away from each other. Eddie’s face is pink and his lips are kiss-swollen and Harrington’s back has a set of welted scratches on it that Wayne imagines are a perfect match for Eddie’s fingers.
“Well, shit,” Wayne says. He definitely should have opened the door sooner.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” Eddie says.
“What the fuck else what it be?” Steve says, only sounding a little hysterical.
Except then the kid is pushing Eddie behind him and squaring up to Wayne with his jaw clenched and his head high, the discolored ring around his neck, still not yet healed, the scars down his belly, on display. Wayne is well-acquainted with the nuance of a man posturing versus a man who would gladly throw himself into a fight, even one he’s not certain he’d win. Steve Harrington is indisputably the latter.
Wayne can’t decide if he’s offended or endeared.
“Stand down, kid, I’m not going to hurt him.”
“I wouldn’t let you.” 
“That is…extremely apparent.”
“Steve,” Eddie says. “It’s ok. He knows. Or. We’ve never really talked about it but.” He meets Wayne’s eyes. “He knows. It’s ok.”
Eddie pushes around him, stepping into Wayne’s open arms.
Steve watches distrustfully as Wayne wraps Eddie in a hug.
“You’re both safe here,” he says. Mostly to Steve, since he’s the one who needs to hear it. “And I’ll call up my boyfriend in Indy and have him vouch for me if you don’t believe me.”
Harrington’s expression is just as magnificent as Wayne hoped it would be.
“Your what?” Eddie shrieks.
Part 3 Here.
On AO3 Here.
Tempted to do one more from one of the kid's POVs when the kids find out. Thoughts?
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novelconcepts · 1 year
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There’s a line from American Gods I keep coming back to in relation to Yellowjackets, an observation made early on by Shadow in prison: “The kind of behavior that works in a specialized environment, such as prison, can fail to work and in fact become harmful when used outside such an environment.” I keep rotating it in my head in thinking about the six survivors, the roles they occupy in the wilderness, and the way the show depicts them as adults in society.
Because in the wilderness, as in prison, they’re trapped—they’re suffering, they’re traumatized, they’re terrified—but they’re also able to construct very specific boxes to live in. And, in a way, that might make it easier. Cut away the fat, narrow the story down to its base arc. You are no longer the complex young woman who weighs a moral compass before acting. You no longer have the luxury of asking questions. You are a survivor. You have only to get to the next day.
Shauna: the scribe. Lottie: the prophet. Van: the acolyte. Taissa: the skeptic. Misty: the knight. Natalie: the queen. Neat, orderly, the bricks of a new kind of society. And it works in the woods; we know this because these six survive. (Add Travis: the hunter, while you’re at it, because he does make it to adulthood).
But then they’re rescued. And it’s not just lost purpose and PTSD they’re dealing with now, but a loss of that intrinsic identity each built in the woods. How do you go home again? How do you rejoin a so-called civilized world, where all the violence is restricted to a soccer field, to an argument, to your own nightmares?
How does the scribe, the one who wrote it all out in black and white to make sense of the horrors, cope with a world that would actively reject her story? She locks that story away. But she can’t stop turning it over in her head. She can’t forget the details. They’re waiting around every corner. In the husband beside her in bed. In the child she can’t connect with across the table. In the best friend whose parents draw her in, make her the object of their grief, the friend who lives on in every corner of their hometown. She can’t forget, so she tries so hard to write a different kind of story instead, to fool everyone into seeing the soft maternal mask and not the butcher beneath, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.
How does the prophet come back from the religion a desperate group made of her, a group that took her tortured visions, her slipping mental health, and built a hungry need around the very things whittling her down? She builds over the bones. She creates a place out of all that well-intended damage, and she tells herself she’s helping, she’s saving them, she has to save them, because the world is greedy and needs a leader, needs a martyr, needs someone to stand up tall and reassure everyone at the end of the day that they know what’s best. The world, any world, needs someone who will take those blows so the innocent don’t have to. She’s haunted by everyone she didn’t save, by the godhood assigned to her out of misplaced damage, and when the darkness comes knocking again, there is nothing else to do but repeat old rhymes until there is blood on her hands just the same.
How does the acolyte return to a world that cares nothing for the faith of the desperate, the faith that did nothing to save most of her friends, that indeed pushed her to destroy? She runs from it. She dives into things that are safe to believe in, things that rescue lonely girls from rough home lives, things that show a young queer kid there’s still sunshine out there somewhere. She delves into fiction, makes a home inside old stories to which she already knows the endings, coaxes herself away from the belief that damned her and into a cinemascope safety net where the real stuff never has to get in. She teaches herself surface-level interests, she avoids anything she might believe in too deeply, and still she’s dragged back to the place where blood winds up on her hands just the same.
How does the skeptic make peace with the things she knows happened, the things that she did even without meaning to, without realizing? She buries them. She leans hard into a refusal to believe those skeletons could ever crawl back out of the graves she stuffed them into, because belief is in some ways the opposite of control. She doesn’t talk to her wife. She doesn’t talk to anyone. It’s not about what’s underneath the surface, because that’s just a mess, so instead she actively discounts the girl she became in the woods. She makes something new, something rational and orderly, someone who can’t fail. She polishes the picture to a shine, and she stands up straight, the model achievement. She goes about her original plan like it was always going to be that way, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.
How does the knight exist in a world with no one to serve, no one to protect, no reason propelling the devastating choices she had grown comfortable making? She rechannels it. She convinces herself she’s the smartest person in the room, the most capable, the most observant. She convinces herself other people’s mysteries are hers to solve, that she is helping in every single action she takes. She makes a career out of assisting the most fragile, the most helpless souls she can find, and she makes a hobby out of patrolling for crimes to solve, and when a chance comes to strap her armor back on and ride into battle, she rejoices in the return to normalcy. She craves that station as someone needed, someone to rely upon in the darkest of hours, and she winds up with blood on her hands because, in a way, she never left the wilderness at all.
How does the queen keep going without a queendom, without a pack, without people to lead past the horrors of tomorrow? She doesn’t. She simply does not know how. She scrounges for something, anything, that will make her feel connected to the world the way that team did. She moves in and out of a world that rejects trauma, punishes the traumatized, heckles the grieving as a spectacle. She finds comfort in the cohesive ritual of rehabilitation, this place where she gets so close to finding herself again, only to stumble when she opens her eyes and sees she’s alone. All those months feeding and guiding and gripping fast to the fight of making it to another day, and she no longer knows how to rest. How to let go without falling. She no longer wears a crown, and she never wanted it in the first place, so how on earth does she survive a world that doesn’t understand the guilt and shame of being made the centerpiece of a specialized environment you can never explain to anyone else? How, how, how do you survive without winding up with blood on your hands just the same?
All six of these girls found, for better or worse, a place in the woods. All six of them found, for better or worse, a reason to get up the next day. For each other. And then they go home, and even if they all stayed close, stayed friends, it’d still be like stepping out of chains for the first time in years. Where do you go? How do you make small choices when every decision for months was life or death? How do you keep the part of yourself stitched so innately into your survival in a world that would scream to see it? How do you do away with the survivor and still keep going?
They brought it back with them. Of course they did. It was the only way.
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