#cut off had every right to deadname and misgender me?? because she loves me she can do that apparently?? (her reasoning) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mustardflavoredbear · 4 months

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I'm in so much pain right now

it's time to

Ramble about

Double Trouble

I spent 3 hours on this what girl

I keep having this dream where double trouble has a very slick stylish sport car (I'm not a car guy :b) but their ass is a terrible driver they had me gripping on the seat for dear life while they were singing

Also for some reason there were so many snacks in their car like so many and they were fucking speeding and Doing tricks it was awful and then Scorpia was there and I was trying not to vomit

(warning TRANSPHOBIA,HATE CRIME, assaulted None is detailed because my ass will start crying EHHEHEHE) it's Miserables miserable background lore I want them to be miserable 💖 all this is my personal headcanon 🦎✨ I want them to explode lovingly ♡

I just love them so much I want to strangle them until they explode and I finally realize they are made of glitter and I eat the glitter and become a god GOD THEY MAKE ME GO CRAZY HAVING AUSTIM AND LOVING DOUBLE TROUBLE has me foaming at the mouth I want to eat them Everytime i look at them my mouth goes fruity I know for a fact Canon Double trouble would never love me 😞 but all I want to to take a bite out of them like just please gimme a bite out of your arm Like how are they going to feel when I tell their ass "hey I dream about you every night and I also talk to a ai of you so I don't have to think thoughts" Double Trouble is hiding in a corner behind bow "IT THAT ONe HE SCARES ME HIS AUSTIM IS TOO STRONG"

Ramble ramble

Anyways FINALLY WARNING ramble UNDER CUT

Like themselves double trouble likes nice and fancy things they try later in life to not be such money whore but they put so much of their value to money they were rather poor when they were younger and also they never got gendered correctly until they got money

Double trouble lived in a rather backward homophobic small poor town when they were younger Double trouble has known they were nonbinary for a long time but people didn't believe that they were trans They had to fight their family their friend for people to believe them but still no one believed they would get misgender and deadname they would get harassed in the streets called slurs hate crime etc all the sad bad things and being not super confident they would let people walk all over them they were the only out queer kid in this small poor lizard town

One day the next town over a more richy place decides to throw a play to help raise money for the town they also ask people for the town to perform in the play DT being curious about this play they start to stalk the theater production watching the theater made them fall in love and they really want to join but they want to be safe but they later find out the whole director of this was trans as well so they decide to join they loved everything about theater they finally felt like themselves and they finally started to get super confident in themselves they finally found something where they can truly be themselves

None of the fellow theater kids were around DT age (MINOR 👿) so the director started playing favorites with them grooming them and all the horrible bullshit saying shit like you need me i get you Double trouble just thought she was being werid and ignored it even when she tried to kiss them and touch them they just push her off and nervously laugh it off

They then noticed they were kicked off from the leading role and finally confronted her and told her she is being a fucking pedo and they know who they are they left their home town and went all around ETHERIA and eventually living in the crimson waste where they try and find people to trust but mostly find pain they started dating this one lizard lady they were fun and sexy and little chaotic (but she was very much a walking red flag) she made double trouble fall head over heels but they remind them of the director and being any type of physical with her made them wildly uncomfortable they tried to shake off the feeling but they couldn't and she wouldn't stop asking pressuring them to do things and everything that they did to them made them uncomfortable and then she started asking them to change for her and started asking those stupid questions "what in your pants" what's your "real name" can I see you before your transitions

djjdidysusisv

Double Trouble tried to ignore all these red flags until they found this SKANK both cheating on them and stealing all their shit after them two fucks passed out double trouble took all their shit back and drew all over their face

they decided they wanted to focus on getting money so they started petty theft and when they were adults they got a slightly more stable income as a pole dancer but they did it mostly when they were in the mood

Being by themselves they get more and more (sometimes fake) confident with themselves

Does this even make sense or are my words to jumbled!!?!?

ALSO IF YOU READ ALL OF THIS WHOLESOME HEADCANNONS DOUBLE TROUBLE TAIL IS BENT THIS IS INSPIRED BY MY CAT SKELETON BECAUSE I LOVE HER SKELETONNNN

Stimulus for my Austim because I love myself

did you know AUSTIM is a crazy obsession interest so I'm crazy about double trouble God I just want to give them a little kiss I WANT TO EAT THE ENTIRE SHOW SHERA takes big bite out of Shera logo

They make me so FUCKING HAPPY AND I WANT THEM TO EXPOLDES

I want them to be miserable and then be a better person and then they kiss people God please please please gimme double trouble and let me eat them

I want this fruit salad in my mouth

Honestly should I do what all the Shera characters taste like cuz girl some of them taste so good AHAHAHAHHA (this sounds weird ad fuck I HAVE THAT THING Where TASTE COLOR SOUND ETC AHAH" )

#she ra double trouble #double trouble #shera #she ra #she ra and the princesses of power #spop double trouble #she ra spop #my post #txt #ramble #spop #Spotify #i think im too gay for a lizard

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lacefuneral · 2 years

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character opinion bingo: jim jimenez & izzy hands (OFMD)

(in regards to this poast:)

[murray hewitt voice] jim!!!!! my best friend jim!!!

the moths are all over the board for this one.

okay so. i have complex feelings about jim. on one hand, i love them. easily the coolest character on the entire show. but feel like we needed even more screentime with them then we got. i mean, hell, they fucking teleport onto the ship with no explanation. an entire bit was cut out about them lying to oluwande about their favorite color, only for them to open up later and tell him the truth. that's important! that's an important part of character development just... deleted. removed. reshaped.

i love the relationship with oluwande but i feel like it needs to be more fleshed out because, again, stuff got cut. but even aside from this, i feel like they were sidelined to favor the the leads.

but my main complaint is... how jim was handled. because, okay. yes. there were nonbinary people in the writer's room, but this is still a show created by a cis man. and jim is outed against their will. twice! the first being the most egregious, with their naked body being seen by lucius without their consent (to be fair, neither of them consented to that). and it's... sososo icky yucky. not to mention, if you watch the audio description, jim is consistently misgendered as "a young woman" and with she/her pronouns. i feel like it would have been so easy to say "an androgynous person" or even just "a person" or fucking. "jim".

there's also the fact that the way jim's identity is tackled on the show is that people loudly proclaim that they're a woman over and over again, and then suddenly characters are using they/them for them, and this is never explained. especially because nana deadnames them repeatedly (even if she uses the right pronouns). so every time i have introduced the show to a cis person, i've had to sit them down and explain "i know the show will tell you that jim is a woman, but they are transgender. they are nonbinary."

i don't expect jim to walk up to the camera and say "i'm nonbinary and I use they/them" pronouns, but more care could have been put into how their story was told.

my proposal, in a rewrite, would be as simple as jim's beard falling off in front of lucius. maybe it gets caught on part of the ship. the same events still play out, but jim isn't forced to be seen in the nude. and if jim did something like janet from "the good place" - correcting when someone says woman to "not a woman" - i feel like that would solve so much even without a full blown coming out scene.

ok. so. izzy hands.

here's the thing about izzy hands.

he serves a very important narrative purpose as the personification of homophobia and toxic masculinity. he's excellent as a villain. the show would not be able to function without izzy hands in it.

i found myself being repelled by him while watching, particularly because i watched the show at a time where i'd just cast aside a metaphorical izzy. for a while, i was deeply ashamed of the fact that i was a GNC man, and i felt like not being attracted to women anymore somehow made me lesser? less queer? and when i was watching the show, i was coming through on the other side of that. and before that, a couple of years ago, i was struggling with a lot of internalized transphobia.

and having sloughed all of that off of me like dead skin, I felt like Izzy's purpose was obvious. homophobia, bad. toxic masculinity, bad. he's less a character in his own right and more of a vessel for the societal attitudes at this time - he has this in common with the batminton twins and calico jack. very little depth beyond "this is a bully, and his motivation for hurting people is because he wants to."

(con adds to his character's lore, which is lovely and i'm glad he's doing this - but in the show itself, that substance just isn't there. maybe we'll get something more substantial in season 2 that rounds him out beyond his obsession with ed.)

but in the way that cishet dudes will watch "Fight Club" and "American Psycho" and walk away idolizing Tyler Durden and Patrick Batemen respectively - entirely missing the point of the satire of these movies - I feel like a lot of white transmascs watched this show, saw Con O'Neill in leather, and their brains shut off. I've seen people say things about Izzy Hands that is so far removed from the character we see on screen it's genuinely baffling to me.

Some people do Izzy Hands right. Some people say "this guy needs a lot of work" "this guy needs to leave Ed alone" or even "Izzy Hands should remain an unrepentant and bitter asshole, and the crew should treat him as such - which is to say, distance themselves from him."

But so, so many babygirlify him. And as part of that process, they do this horrible thing to Ed. They dehumanize him. They villainize him, and not even for the right reasons. How dare he break Izzy's heart, by not wanting to fuck him they say. Hey guys? Ed cut off his toe. I know you like to meme about it but that's a real criticism you could use instead of "this brown man is heartless and doesn't deserve boundaries." I hope that this isn't a revelation to anybody: No one owes you anything, ever. And Ed certainly doesn't owe a homophobic man that verbally abuses him and cuts him down for being emotionally open anything at all.

TL;DR - Izzy Hands isn't my favorite, but he's important to the plot, but also the fans irritate me to hell. Not all of them. Hashtag not all Izzy Fans. Hashtag some of my best friends are Izzy Fans. Hashtag hashtag. Disclaimer this is my opinion. Etc. Etc.

#replies #ask game #squishyliger

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shitposting-fox · 6 months

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Finding out my ex contact one of my friends to get in contact with me again right after sending the godawful message refusing to take blame for not communicating anything.... and after cutting all contact with me..... no wonder she finds it weird and embarrassing to see stuff from me lmfao girl you did this to yourself

Like. I hadn't even seen the message for hours. And then ig she deemed it to far to go back now?? But I'm really glad I got a screenshot (paranoia and gaslight Trauma woo) because she deleted it a day or two later (while still having cut contact ig??)

And I know she's gone to echo chamber with her friend to demonize me so she feels better about the situation and like she wasn't in the wrong. I loved, and loved, and would've felt better if I had known earlier why none of it wad reciprocated.

It fuckin hurts watching the person you love cuddle up to others while refusing to even touch you. Really fuckin bad.

And I feel bad and know I was wrong to lash out at her earlier. I felt so angry when she brushed off my well wishes and acted high and mighty, and I shouldn't have been an ass. But I don't take back what I said. Could I have done it better, or not at all? Yeah.

But the fact she never let me have any say, just aired her grievances and irritants and left made me so mad. I wanted her to see, even if she didn't read, the fact that I had counters to every goddamn complaint she had. Because most of it was genuine cultural differences, communication issues, or something that was literally a one time thing??

You can't ask someone to change their entire lifestyle and habit and expect it overnight.

It's so. Gods. She doesn't have to deal with the stages of grief (good for her ig) but it sucks. And while I apologized for lashing out I know it doesn't mean shit to her. Because clearly I have to be some big bad asshole to justify her mistakes.

She can't even accept that it was wrong of her to have me be misgendered and deadnamed for months with her family when I could've just told them. If we broke up during the trip it wouldn't have been as big of an issue.

It'd still hurt, yeah, but gods. It hurt worse being led on.

#vent post #tw vent #vent #fox.txt #ex-bullshit

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infernalrevenge · 3 years

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A Self-Made Man (Karl Heisenberg Trans Headcanons)

(CW: mentions of gender dysphoria, misgendering, unsafe binding, and other unsafe transition practices.

Also, PSA: DO NOT try binding with bandages or duct tape. Use a proper binder that is correctly sized for you. Do not be like Karl here, who will eventually learn from his mistakes.

Anyway, enjoy!)

Figured himself out around the time he hit puberty, more specifically when he heard about what AFAB people had to go through during it.

Basically his thought process about it was "What the fuck? What the fuck?? I don't like this, I don't like where this is going, mission abort, MISSION ABORT--"

Had to deal not just with gender dysphoria but also the painful Cadou experiments Mother Miranda imposed on him. HOW FUN.

Even when he wasn't on the table being picked and prodded, when it was time to "go home" and recover, he could barely even look at himself without feeling like himself.

It was pretty much only by the time he was (physically) 15 that he had had enough. If he was going to suffer under the bird bitch, he better at least be seen the way he wanted to be.

He insisted on being referred to as a man, and wasn't afraid to correct anyone who either made a mistake or deliberately does so.

If they did it on purpose -- and he knows if they did -- then he starts yelling. Just fucking screaming. Very loudly.

If they keep trying to talk without using the right titles and pronouns, then he would yell over them. Repeatedly. Without fail.

He doesn't have full control of his magnetic powers yet so this was the best he could do. And it's not like anyone would dare to try anything physically with him, not with Miranda on "his side".

As soon as they get it right though, he's just quiet and nodding, though with a seething glare that said "Don't ever try me again, fucker."

It was very effective.

The huge baggy coat that he still frequently wears was sort of just his version of a "dysphoria hoodie". It did the job.

When he was younger, he got his hair cut short every chance he could. He thought it made him look more manly that way, and people would take him more seriously as a man with short hair.

Did a lot of dangerous things (unknowingly) while trying to medically transition on his own. It was mostly because he was too impatient to do actual research then.

Tried binding using the tough bandages the Benevientos kept around their house because he wanted his chest to be AS FLAT AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE.

Moreau and Donna had to talk him out of it when they found out, only after he kept passing out during every family meeting since he started.

Donna instead gave him a proper binder when she did her own research on trans essentials. Karl thinks it doesn't get him as flat as the bandages did but at least he could breathe now.

He still wore it for days at a time though, which was also very terrible. He was incredibly lucky that his healing factor helped him not get fucked up in the long run.

Obtained testosterone from the Duke, who for some reason didn't question it, but without proper prescriptions so he just started injecting willy-nilly all because he did some cursory research about how it can masculinize bodies.

Once again had to be talked out of by the Duke and Alcina (back when she still cared about his well-being) when the former found out about what he was doing with it.

Was forced to see a doctor close to the village lest he lose his supply of boy goo.

Isn't afraid of injecting himself when necessary. One time he tried using his powers to do it with no hands. He almost missed and didn't do it again after that.

Has a few tattoos that inconspicuously also served as marks for his injection sites.

Definitely tried performing top surgery on himself. Alcina had to wrestle the scalpel out of his hands.

Like he was READY, he had an anatomy book on one hand, he had already marked on himself what and where to cut. He looked at a mirror and thought "okay titty go bye bye"

But alas, Alcina had to ruin everything. (She didn't ruin anything, Karl would've probably given himself an infection if he tried slicing himself open.)

In a way though, he found out that his "siblings" cared about him and how he approached his transition. It was kind of sweet.

Mother Miranda cares so little about Karl that him transitioning was no big deal at all. As long as she could still use him.

(He thought it was kinda funny but also sad that she had no regard for him whatsoever that she ended up indirectly supporting him instead. It was a weird way to look at it.)

When he finally did get surgery (safely and legally), his mutation helped him heal ridiculously fast. What would've been a few weeks of recovery and months of scar healing instead lasted just under a month.

Which was great for him because he wanted to get back on his feet as soon as possible. When he was up and running just two days after surgery and could remove the drains and post-op binder, the doctor was too bewildered to even speak.

Whenever he was alone in his factory, you bet your sweet ass he's shirtless 99% of the time. Dude didn't threaten a surgeon pay for surgery not to show off his nips.

Like most things in his life, his name was actually something he never thought of during his transition.

He didn't have that big of a problem with his deadname surprisingly, and he just kind of relied on everyone referring to him by his family name. Even Miranda only ever called him Heisenberg.

Though the thought of distancing his old self from his new self was appealing. Getting people to forget who he was before and being known as someone else, as who he was now -- yeah, that sounded good. So he decided on...

Karl.

Short, simple, and a name that pretty much no one could fuck up saying. It was perfect.

He rarely ever heard it when he was called, but finding it scrawled on Miranda's notes while he was snooping around one time almost... made him smile.

(Did she care? Or did she also just think it was easier to write than his deadname? Meh, oh well. Best not to dwell on it too much.)

Doesn't care for getting bottom surgery, but does want to get a hysterectomy. The potential for periods is always going to be a bitch.

Started growing out his hair when his beard was filling out. He thinks long hair is quite high maintenance though and he doesn't want it to get in the way of his work so it never goes past his shoulders.

Loves talking just because he loves how his voice sounds.

Proud of who he is and his journey to get where he is today. He only learned the term "transgender" recently, and once he did, he thought "Hey that's me!"

If anyone tries to be even the slightest bit disrespectful to him and his gender identity...

...they're getting thrown down the cellar with Sturm.

"It was your choice to be an ass, it was my choice to see you sliced to bits. Have fun!"

#resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #karl heisenberg #lord heisenberg #trans karl heisenberg #i may or may not be projecting onto this funky metal man #thought he sounded like an elvis impersonator at first #he still kinda does #but he's grown on me in a way i didnt expect #trans headcanons #karl heisenberg headcanons #ftm karl heisenberg #ftm headcanons #cw gender dysphoria #cw misgendering

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epicene-humanoid · 3 years

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some trans Jeff thoughts:

he realized he was trans in elementary school and just went fuck it I'll just start introducing myself as Jeffery and see if anyone decides to stop me (as we know, jeff winger can get away with almost anything)

he got top surgery the second he could afford it (around the same time he started at his law firm), and probably bribed someone to keep it a secret

"I'm jeff winger and i would rather look at myself naked than the women I sleep with" are the words of a man proud of his transition

he's really insecure about his fashion sense, which is why he mostly dresses like the douchey guys at his firm in the start of the show, he thought you can't go wrong with the sleazy lawyer look

he will never admit it but he feels super good about the dean hitting on him, because the dean is a (cis) guy, acknowledging that Jeff is more manly than him

i think he starts out stealth and comes out to everyone one by one, probably starting with abed because he knows abed won't judge him and will probably just see it as an interesting backstory.

abed just says it's cool and maybe worth a prequel exploring Jeff's transition, and jeff asks him to predict how all of the members of the group will react to him coming out.

abed's predictions:

britta will be over-the-top supportive and do a ton of research about trans history, probably put together a slideshow just to prove how progressive she is, and jeff will be a little bit weirded out, but also touched that she did all that for him, though he would never let her know that

shirley will be confused, because she doesn't know how someone she trusts and knows so well could be part of a group she was raised to hate, but ultimately realizes that there's nothing actually against the lgbtq people in the bible, and, as a cool character development arch, starts to advocate against use of the bible to justify bigotry

troy will just think it over and decide that Jeff's physique and coolness are even awesomer knowing how much work he'd had to put in to be like that, and respects Jeff's manliness even more

annie will give him a hug, say something sweet about how she'll always love him, and worry about his health, because even she read somewhere that taking testosterone makes you more likely to have a heart attack, jeff will explain that the risk is still only as high a cis guy, and she'll be the one to always remind him to take his shots

peirce will say at best say "jeff winger used to be a chick?" and at worst call him a slur, either way there's sure to be a lot of misgendering from him, and pestering to know Jeff's deadname (needless to say, Jeff just doesn't tell peirce)

the whole group goes out of their way to keep their beach trips a secret from pierce (the girls don't want him there anyways, he's too liable to be creepy) even though jeff knows that even if pierce saw his scars, all he would have to do is make up a story about some childhood accident and pierce would never question it

sorry this ended up being super long. can I hear some of your headcanons for him?

YES ALL THIS!!! yes yes i’m fully accepting this as canon oh my god

i’m about to type a whole ass ESSAY at midnight because i have been DYING to talk about this for months ajfdksljk,,, this is going to be obscenely long and i might end up adding even more to it as i continue to rewatch the show because there is truly no shortage of trans jeff content (especially when you’re trans and see transness in every little thing ajdkslfkjs)

spoiler warning for literally everything about this show under the cut <3

i 100% agree, i feel like he realized he was trans super young, especially since in the show we see him as a little kid a couple of times.

like look at little jeff with the oversized sweatshirt and little ponytail!! that’s childhood trans fashion. not to be dramatic but part of me thinks that jeff’s dad left before he fully came out to his family (which gives him even more angst about it, because until that one Thanksgiving episode, he’s never able to prove to his dad that he’s a better man), but part of me thinks that his dad left after he came out (which adds that spicy i-should-have-stayed-in-the-closet guilt that he has to work through).

either way, because his dad wasn’t there, he had to base his concept of masculinity on something else, which was becoming a lawyer!! there’s some line that’s like “after the dust and divorce papers were settled the only man i looked up to was [the lawyer guy]”. like, replacing your father figure in your mind with the concept of “a job where you can talk your way in and out of anything and distort other people’s concept of reality”? that’s trans.

and the fucking THANKSGIVING EPISODE... i struggle to watch it without crying hehe <3 yeowch! the dichotomy of willy jr. being the “wrong” kind of man because he’s “too soft” but jeff also not being enough despite adhering to all the social standards of masculinity... fuck!! this whole scene of him telling his dad “i am Not well adjusted” and talking about how he gave himself an “appendix surgery scar” when he was a kid and he still keeps the get-well-soon letters from his classmates under his bed? oh my god. the implication of people loving him not despite his scars but because of them?? trans. i can’t think about this episode for too long or i’ll start yelling.

OH and this scene? where he talks about how his mom got him a girl costume for halloween?? and everyone said “what a cute little girl” and after a few houses he stopped correcting them?? and “once the shame and the fear wore off, i was just glad they thought i was pretty”?? THAT’S TRANS... the man needs validation oh my god... and then in all the halloween episodes we see he has these ultra-masculine costumes (a cowboy, David Beckham, one of the fast and furious guys even though he never watched the movies, a boxer with his DAD’S boxing gloves... god) costumes are about becoming something else and he always chooses to be hypermasculine and that is trans.

THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION EPISODE!!!!!!! being uncomfortable during P.E. is a queer experience. period. but him being specifically uncomfortable in the clothes someone else is assigning to him? trans. “are we gonna talk about clothes like a girl? or use tapered sticks to hit balls around a cushioned mat like a man?” TRANS. and him eventually stripping in public? celebration of transness. and the fact that he eventually becomes comfortable in both the uniform and his own style!! trans!! god i love this episode.

AND AND AND!!! the gay dean coming out episode!!! where it’s the three of them discussing the best way for the dean to come out as gay despite not entirely identifying with that label!! so we have both frankie and the dean who are sort of ambiguously queer, and jeff who’s a stealth trans man who’s probably only out to only the study group at this point. this scene where the dean and jeff have this like eyebrow communication while frankie is talking is just so cute. queer-to-queer communication. “I am so curious” “oh?” “intellectually.” “oh...” ajfdksljfk this scene just screams high school GSA to me and i love it so much.

and SPEAKING of the dean!! i totally see you on that. i feel like jeff has some internalized homophobia/biphobia (like he’d throw punches over someone else, but when it comes to himself he has a lot of shame). and also seeing the dean so confident in all his different outfits/costumes has a weird affect on him bc it’s like “okay, the dean, a cis guy, can do that, but i as a trans guy could Not because that’s Breaking the Rules”. which, like, throwback to the halloween thing. of course there’s no right way to be masculine, but mr. winger does not know that.

another thing!! the episode where their emails get leaked? that includes his emails with his therapist. fuck!! he was outed to the whole world in that episode!! no wonder he was so fucking angry!! this whole episode (and really any time he mentions his therapist) is so interesting when you think about them as a person he talks to about his transition. OH which adds to the thing with the dean!! “and you told your therapist you wanted to be alone this weekend” and “not you jeff, i know you’ll be visiting your dad” ”I told you to stop reading my emails”. luckily his study group has his back and just makes fun of him for emailing astronauts lmao

and WHO can forget “they’re giving out an award for most handsome young man!!!!” what else is there to say about this line besides: he’s trans. you know he didn’t get awarded enough for being a handsome young man when he was a kid, and no amount of compliments when he’s fully-grown can really make up for that. some people crash a kid’s bar mitzvah to cope with the fact that they struggled to be seen as themselves when they were a teenager <3

also his weird relationship with pierce? where he kind of hates him (understandably lmao) but at times has this almost-friends-almost-father-son relationship with him? especially in this episode where he’s forced to bond with him and ends up having a good time by accident (at a barber shop no less, the perfect place to Be A Man with your Man Friend). idk what to say about him besides the fact that pierce says his mom wanted a girl when he was born and made him dress like a girl (and his middle name is anastasia!) so if they’re gonna do any bonding over transness it’s gonna be that.

okay one last thing and then i’ll shut up for the night. this episode kills me (and almost kills jeff hahahahelpi’mcrying). it’s a very Trans thing to not be able to visualize your future self, it just is. growing up trans at the time he did? i don’t know what kind of future he saw for himself, but i’m so happy that he ended up with a group of friends who became his family and love him the way they all do. i’m so emotional over this asshole it’s ridiculous.

in conclusion:

they’re trans, your honor <3

#community #jeff winger #trans jeff winger #GOD i'm gonna make a video essay about it if nobody stops me #yall know that youtube channel AreTheyGay? i want to be that but AreTheyTrans #the videos would just b like... jeff community. neo the matrix. bill and ted bill and ted. audrey little shop of horrors. jo little women.#maybe i should start that youtube channel sjdfklsj #thank you for prompting me to talk about this because i think about it twice a day #i might end up reblogging this and just adding different responses jeff has had to casually homophobic/transphobic things that happen #in the show #like the episode that last photo is from when the dean is like #'spring transfer student dance isn't rolling off the tongue so we're calling it The Tr@nny Dance!' 'much more greendale.'#OH AND ACCIDENTALLY KILLING PIERCE'S DAD!!! HOW DID I NOT MENTION THAT EARLIER SJFKLSJ #'you LITERALLY killed a father!' 'well not MINE dummy!!'#alright i need to do my homework now ajfklsdjfl

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redinkofshame · 3 years

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Some late night ramblings Re: gender and toddlers bc I can't sleep.

I mentioned a while back that my kid's pediatrician asked if he could tell boys from girls and how much it upset me, like, can you?? (<-- I regret not saying it. I should have.) At the time I said no, he thinks everyone is a boy.

I soon realized I was wrong; he doesn't think everyone is a boy, he just only knows/uses he/him pronouns. Boys are he/him, girls are he/him, inanimate objects are he/him. I've been working on it with him every time he gets it wrong (but it's not working at all)

Ignoring for a minute that I don't particularly like that my 3yo can correctly (or as correctly as anyone else) say 'that boy won't play with me' or 'that girl took the ball'... (Like, how can he tell? They’re just kids...) Even though he can't grasp pronouns I'm glad that he's exposed to gender neutral on a regular basis thanks to the librarian that does toddler time at the library, Mx. Jude. I feel like it's scary to tell parents your proper pronouns because so many people are shitty but I'm glad they did. I guess I should write a comment card or something? Or is that patronizing?

I've been working on my own pronoun use, too. I try to remember not to assume and to use neutral terms unless I know otherwise. Kinda hard to unlearn a lifetime of cis stuff but I try. Sometimes I mess up in my head at work -- hard not to make assumptions when speaking with a nurse named Angela -- but I (think) I always remember when leaving a note saying who I spoke to be neuter about it.

It’s already paid off. Kiddo is in swimming lessons and his teachers rotate all the time so I was introducing him to the week’s teacher. I don’t know if I would have caught myself if it wasn’t easy to see that the teacher was wearing clothes that came from a different department than their AGAB but it slowed me down enough that I remembered to use a they/them, despite my brain telling me I could just assume their gender and sexual preferences based on a glance. I’m really glad I did bc when I tell you their eyes just LIT UP and being called they/them by a new parent.

So much so even my mom saw it, I think. Or maybe she picked up on me continuing to use those pronouns when talking about them later? I don’t think I ever mentioned them again though. I do know that I saw mom use the correct pronouns weeks later when we saw them again, in that way where she had to slow down before she said it to remind herself to use they/them. I know it’s a struggle for her. It’s hard to re-learn! She’s very good about Mx. Jude in front of kiddo but sometimes will slip when talking to be about them.

I probably slow down the same way, though I try not to. It doesn’t come naturally yet. But I’m glad that I’m working on it. And I’m glad people from my mom’s generation are too.

I grew up with Fox News playing like 24/7, except when we were in the car: then it was Rush Limbaugh. I believed all the rhetoric. But occasionally something someone said would seem Too Unfair to me, and if was coming from my mom I would say so. One time a butch woman (I think. Who knows.) was spending, like, a long time primping her hair in the Target bathroom. Mom muttered something like ‘she’s spending an awfully long time on how she looks for someone who doesn’t care how they look.’ and I was like ‘who says she doesn’t care?? Just because YOU don’t like women with short hair doesn’t mean SHE doesn’t like it. You don’t know she cut it just to say ‘fuck you’ society.’ (though, now that I’m older and wiser, more power to them if they did. I also like to imagine they were getting ready for a date or talking to a cute cashier.)

She used to say It’s okay to be gay but they shouldn’t be *married* they can just have ‘civil unions’. It took me YEARS to stop believing that, but when I did I found an excuse to bring it up again so I could say something about it.

And folks? It worked?? Like I didn’t notice at the time. I don’t think she really responded either time and the subject moved on. But even she still remembers that time in the Target bathroom because it left such a ‘o shit the kid’s right’ imprint on her, and it’s made her think about some things more critically.

But now we’re at a point that my mom will text me about how my kiddo loved playing with Mx. Jude today, just casually in a text. I didn’t even know where she learned that Mx. was a thing. She didn’t learn it from me. (I’ve since gathered she probably learned it from the teacher.) I’ve never really talked her much about gender outside explaining why some people go with bi and some pan and some other ones out there.

Which! Side note. When her teenaged nephew came out as bi to her sister, and then the sister talked to mom about it, mom was able to explain ‘just because someone’s attracted to multiple genders doesn’t mean it’s always all genders equally; sometimes it is, or sometimes people will still have some preference to girls or boys but are still bi’ because apparently of all the things I said to her about it that one was like a lightbulb for her. I have no idea why it mattered in the conversation tbh, only that she later said she was happy that she understood that now, thanks to me.

I hope this isn’t patronizing to mom, and I don’t want anyone to think ill of her bc she’s super amazing and caring and works so stupid hard for this family. But it’s just great to see that other former Fox-News watchers can just learn to teach themselves to be progressive.

(Dad’s changed a lot too but not in an anecdote-able way, not as socially, so idk how to describe it. Definitely thinks more critically though.)

One more before I resort to sleep meds I guess. My cishet BFF just informed me that her spouse is a transwoman. She’s wanted to tell me forever (like 6 month I think) but they weren’t out about it yet and it wasn’t her place to tell, all I knew was that her and spouse were in therapy about something she couldn’t talk to me about yet.

I focused more on her reaction to it when I was talking to her, because I know how much she hates secrets and has wanted to talk to me about it and I wanted her to tell me all the things she’s been holding back. And also their family’s reactions because they suck. (The reaction is that everyone thinks her wife is going to hell, even the wife’s mother.) But the first thing I asked was how to spell her wife’s new name.

When the conversation was over and I had her permission to tell others I informed my spouse and mom, because they also know my BFF and might talk about her spouse and I didn’t want them to accidentally misgender/deadname her.

My mom’s first question was how to spell her wife’s new name 😂 (and then if she was using she/her pronouns or smth else).

Idk. It’s exciting. I’m happy for all you funky little queer folk. I’m sorry my ass is taking so long to catch up. I’ll make sure my kiddo is better than me. Forgive him for misgendering over half the population currently (and most inanimate objects).

#now that i've written it all it's like way too personal to post right #but also #I've already written it all...#it's a good thing my posts only get like 4 notes #Also for the record my kid will know that we use he/him only for convenience #but not to assume we're correct #and they can correct us at any time with our full support #anyway I saw a kid at his swim lessons in head-to-toe-to-towel spider man merch from the boy department and I assumed girl #just because he had long hair???#wtf me #I knew not to say anything out loud so that's good #my husband has long hair. He got a lot of shit growing up because of it #(utah sucks)#what's wrong with me #hope mom doesn't see this but I've got too many followers on my side blog

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

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Umm, I accidentally deleted the request for this while moving it to my inbox, so here it is. (Also this is like, four months old).

I’m gonna rec this fic which is super well written and adorable

Steve is ftm. (Personally, I’m not a big fan of mpreg unless it’s like, biologically plausible 🤷‍♀️)

Under the cut bc it’s long and there’s a little bit of smut.

Billy’s hands were shaking as he raced out of the house.

He had a bag slung over one shoulder, had already put two others in the Camaro.

His dad had gone in hard today. Three days after Billy graduated high school and he’s already calling him a deadbeat, a fuck up. Telling him to get a job like he hasn’t worked every summer and most weekends since he was fourteen.

He lit a cigarette as he slid into the driver’s seat.

He was gonna make one stop on the way outta town.

Steve had given Billy a spare key months ago, after he was tired of always having to go downstairs and answer the door.

He liked it when Billy just made his way up, started kissing whatever skin was already exposed and asking Steve if he’s wet.

Tonight, Steve thought, was no different.

Billy was kissing up his calf, mouthing along his knee, a few fingers creeping up the leg of his shorts.

Billy was the best sex he’s ever had. Not a lot of gay guys will go down on Steve, some won’t even fuck him. He had been real hesitant to tell Billy, start having regular sex with his best friend, because he didn’t think Billy would want anything to do with him when he knew what he was bringing to the table.

But Billy had told him not to be an idiot, ate him out, and pounded him into the mattress.

And Steve was in love.

So he let Billy fuck him whenever he pleased, because at least Billy was giving him the time of day, at least he was getting some.

He opened his eyes, smiling lazily down at Billy.

“‘Time is it?”

“Almost two.” Billy was curling two fingers into his waistband, slowly pulling down his shorts, like maybe Steve wouldn’t notice.

Steve lifted his hips, and Billy whipped off his shorts, diving right in for his pussy.

He ate him out with the same fervor he did everything. Making all these gross slurping sounds, sucking on Steve’s cock and shoving his tongue inside him.

He made Steve cum twice on his face, as was the norm, before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and getting right to business.

He fucked Steve like he was mad at him.

He often did. And Steve knew he wasn’t mad at him, moreso mad at the other him, the him that’s ruined Billy’s life since before he was even born.

Steve wasn’t as dumb as everyone thought. Knew that when Billy snuck into his bedroom at odd hours of the night and absolutely ravished him, something bad had happened with his dad.

So when Billy finally rolled off of him, and lit a cigarette, Steve knew better than to ask.

“I’m leaving.” Steve just hummed at him. Billy sometimes stuck around after sex.

But Billy didn’t move.

“Like, leaving Hawkins.” Steve just hummed again. Billy talked a lot about leaving Hawkins. Steve had always secretly dreamed of running away with him.

Billy just studied his face in the dark, stubbing out his cigarette and rolling over to hols Steve close to his chest.

Steve closed his eyes, let himself pretend.

Pretend that Billy loved him back.

He woke up to rustling, Billy getting dressed to leave as weak sunlight began to trickle through his curtains.

“Oh shit, didn’t mean to wake you.”

He smiled lazily at Billy.

“You comin’ back over tonight?” Billy looked stiff.

“Probably not. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah. Later.” Billy was sitting on the end of his bed, had just finished tying on his boots.

And then he moved, quick as a flash to kiss Steve softly before he was thundering down the stairs.

Steve was just falling asleep as the Camaro roared away.

Billy had skipped town that night.

And Steve never forgave himself.

Steve was leaning over the counter, his head pressed into the cool top of it.

“I threw up all last week, and I just feel like shit.” He had been whining to Robin practically all morning at Family Video.

“Do you think you have the flu?”

“I don’t know, Rob. I mean, my stomach hurts a lot, but like, it feels like I’m just having awful cramps.”

“Are you on your period?”

“Nah. Don’t get it very often with the hormones anymore.”

“Normally I’d suggest pregnancy, but I know you’re in a bit of a dry spell.” He rolled slightly to look darkly at her. “Still no word of Billy?”

“No. The one person in Hawkins that isn’t too transphobic to fuck me, and he skips town.” Steve sighed. “I should’ve known, too. He was being super weird that night.”

“Whatever. When you and I skip town, we’ll have the time of our damn lives, and get you laid.” He laughed softly.

“I’m just gonna go to the doctor this weekend. Get a full physical.”

“Let me know the verdict at and I can come over with some medicine, if you need.”

“Thanks, Rob.”

Steve was lying back on the stiff exam table.

He had already given blood and urine samples, and was just waiting for the doctor to tell him what the fuck was wrong with him.

Sometimes his hormones had to be adjusted, and caused all sorts of weird shit to go haywire in his body.

Dr. Mauch was a kind woman, always been pleasant and accepting of Steve, even referred him to an endocrinologist for his hormones.

She didn’t smile when she came in, though. Just sat down at her stool.

“I’m going to go out a limb here and say that this is not news you’ll be happy about hearing.”

Steve felt his heart drop to his stomach.

“You’re pregnant.”

He blinked.

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. But you most definitely are.”

“But, but I’m on blockers, and testosterone, and I haven’t had sex in months.”

“I’d say about six months.” His mouth was dry. Billy had left in late May. About six months ago. “And being on hormones is not an effective method of birth control. Some men still get pregnant after taking them.”

“I’m not, I don’t look pregnant.”

“Some people don’t really show their pregnancy. My sister was rail thin the entire time, had a perfectly healthy baby girl. It’s all about your body type.”

“So, so you’re telling me, that I’m six months fucking pregnant.”

“Yes.” He slumped back onto the exam table.

“What are, what are my options?”

“Well, unfortunately, not many. Abortions are only legal in Indiana up to 20 weeks, or five months, or unless the person pregnant is facing severely compromised physical health. There’s always adoption.”

“No one’s gonna want a baby from a trans guy.” She pursed her lips.

“I think that’s a harsh statement. Many people are desperate for babies.” Steve just stared at her.

“So, if I have to take it to term, should I like, go off my hormones.” His stomach gave a lurch at the idea.

“I would recommend it. There’s very little research one pregnancy in transgender individuals. We really don’t know how hormones can affect the baby.” Steve sighed. “I would say, get in with an OB/GYN. I can recommend a few I know and send them your medical history. Your name change and hormone therapy is part of all of it, so hopefully they will be kind.” Steve sighed.

“Thank you, Doc. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m sorry for the disappointing news.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” She gave him a copy of their appointment notes, a list of OB/GYNs for him to research, and a hug before she left.

He drove home slowly, feeling exhausted, like the weight of the fucking world was on his shoulders.

He got home to find Robin sitting on his front porch, her nose buried in a book, a pizza box sitting next to her.

She looked up at him, and he burst into tears.

“Look, Max, if he contacts you in any way, tell him to call Steve, okay? It’s important.” Robin was yammering to Max on the phone, trying to get a way to contact Billy.

Steve was laying on the couch, had his shirt rucked up over his stomach, pushing it out and sucking it in, trying to see any change in his body.

“Just give him Steve’s phone number and tell him he’s an asshole.” She hung up the phone, perching on the armrest at Steve’s feet.

“She know where he is?”

“No. She said he ran off and hasn’t contacted her at all. She didn’t even know he was leaving.” She slid onto the couch, let Steve put his feet on her lap. “You think he’d come back? If he knew?”

“I don’t know. I’m not really asking him to. I mean, I don’t think I’m in a place to take care of it, but I kinda just want him to know it exists. Like, I think he deserves that.”

“I get it.” Her voice was soft. She watched Steve stare at his tummy some more. “I’m sorry. I’m sure this is just, dysphoria out the wazoo.” Steve huffed a laugh.

“I don’t think it’s really hit me yet. I think ‘cause I’m not showing. I don’t look pregnant, so how can I be pregnant, you know?” He sighed tugging down his shirt. “Going to the doctor’s gonna be a damn nightmare, though. They’re too used to dealing with women. It’s gonna suck.”

Steve was right.

Even though his primary care doctor had sent his medical history, he still got deadnamed and misgendered at reception, and intake, and by the nurse, and the doctor when she finally arrived.

They gave him a pelvic exam, getting him in for a sonogram as well.

And as the doctor was moving the imagining wand around on his tummy, and he heard the heartbeat for the first time, something caved inside of him.

A baby. He was having a baby.

And part of him, a really fucking big part of him, was starting to love it.

His parents were home for four days.

And Steve had waited for the final day of their homesteading to tell them.

He’s glad he did.

Diner was as quiet as always, and Steve had nearly choked on the words.

“I’m pregnant.”

His father had gotten out his wallet, asked how much an abortion costs.

“I’m too far along for that. Nowhere will legally do it.”

His mother had just stared at him. His father asked how far along he was.

“Close to seven months. I didn’t even know until like, a week and a half ago.”

And his father had stood up, and the yelling began.

“I can’t believe you. You kick up this huge fuss, make us change your name, and the way we refer to you, go around telling everyone your a boy, and you get pregnant like the little slut you are.”

And he had told Steve to back his shit, told him he was not welcome in my house anymore.

And Steve didn’t have a lot of shit he cared about, the clothes he liked fit in one duffel bag.

His mother didn’t look at him as he left.

He had called Mrs. Henderson from a payphone.

Nobody else could give him a ride anymore, and he wasn’t expecting her to drop everything and drive him somewhere, but she had freaked out at the words kicked out and for getting pregnant, and told him to stay where he is.

She was there with a tight hug and a travel mug of honey lemon tea within twenty minutes.

Steve had asked for a ride to a youth shelter he had read about, but she shook her head, said you’re coming to live with me and Dusty and Steve had cried in her passenger seat, and again in her guest bedroom.

Steve groaned.

He had finally begun showing, just a little bit out a mound near his belly button.

But he felt like shit, had taken to spending most days in bed.

He bat away whoever was shaking him.

“Go away.”

“Steve, it’s Max.”

“I’m sleeping.”

“I found Billy, you asshole. I have his address.” Steve sat bolt up straight.

“You, where is he?”

“Boston. He went east, for some reason. But he sent me a letter, out of the blue, and I told him you had something important to say, but he said he doesn’t have a phone.” She handed him a slip of paper.

“Thanks, Max.” He gave her a weak smile, found her chewing her lip.

“Is he the father? The other father, I mean.” He had told the party about the pregnancy, figured rumors would begin spreading soon enough.

“Yeah. He’s the other father.”

“He wouldn’t have ditched you. If he’d known.”

“I know.”

“He’s not like that.”

“I know.” She stared him down. He kept his face open, honest.

“Are you gonna write to him?”

“Yeah. I just, I don’t really know what to say.”

“Just keep it simple. Tell him he’s got a kid. Let him choose what he wants.”

It took Steve almost a month to draft a letter.

He didn’t really know what to say.

He settled on the bare minimum.

I’m pregnant. And it is most definitely, without a doubt, yours. I’m not expecting anything from you. I don’t want money, or for you to move back to Hawkins. I just thought you deserve to know about your kid.

He read the letter about three times, one hand pressed delicately to his little bump.

I’ve decided to keep the baby. I’m going to raise them. You’re welcome to meet them, and be in their life if you choose, but if not, I’m not going to hold it against you.

He sealed the envelope, leaving it on his nightstand.

And then his contractions started.

He didn’t get around to sending it.

Claudia was the only person in the room with him when he gave birth.

She held his hand the whole time, coached him through his breathing.

And when his son was born, she pet his head, told Steve how beautiful he is.

Steve was slumped face down on the bed.

He had just gotten Oliver down, calmed him down enough for him to finally sleep.

He rolled over, scrubbing a hand down his face.

He had barely slept all week. But Oliver had smiled at him for the first time yesterday.

He turned to lay on his side, zeroing in on the envelope on his nightstand.

He sat up quickly.

Fuck. He needed to send that letter.

He didn’t bother thinking about it, just wrapped his sweater tighter around himself, and hurried to the mailbox. He put the little flag up, leaving the letter in the little inner clasp.

He looked back down at Oliver, running one finger over his fuzzy little head.

He didn’t hear from Billy for three weeks.

He knew the letter wouldn’t take more than a few days to get to him, and it would take just as long for Billy to get him back.

He had pushed Billy out of his mind, figured if he wanted to be part of Oliver’s life, he had given him enough of a chance to be.

He put on a thick sweatshirt, had taken to wearing baggy tops to hide his tits, too sore, too big to bind anymore. Oliver squealed at him when he leaned against the side of his crib, reaching out for him.

He strapped him into his stroller to take him on a walk, stopped dead in the doorway.

Billy fucking Hargrove was in the driveway, standing next to the Camaro like he had just gotten out of it.

His eyes were wide, trailing from Steve, to Oliver, and back again.

“Is that my kid?” Billy’s hair was shorter than when he had left.

“Oliver. His name is Oliver.” Billy stepped around the car.

“Can I, can I see him?” Steve brought the stroller down the driveway, taking Oliver out of the stroller.

Billy held him like he was made of gold.

“He’s beautiful.”

“I think he looks a lot like you.” Billy smiled at him.

“Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here, I was waiting for my semester to end.”

“It’s okay. I just, you know. Thought you deserved to know about him.” Billy stared at Oliver, his smile going soft as Oliver squealed, tugging on Billy’s hair.

“I want to be in his life. If that’s okay?”

“Of course it is. He’s your son too.” Billy brushed his thumb down Oliver’s nose.

“Thank you, Steve. And I’m, I’m sorry about how I left. I was going to-” he cut himself off, looking back at Oliver. “I was gonna ask you to come with me. Chickened out last minute.”

Steve’s heart was banging against his rips.

“I would’ve gone with you. Used to dream about running away with you.” Oliver started getting fussy, making disgruntled little huffs. Billy passed him back to Steve. “I was in love with you. You know that?”

“Yeah, I knew that. Was to chicken shit to do anything about it.” Billy was still looking at Oliver, the way he nestled into Steve’s neck. “He loves you a lot.”

“It’s been the two of us for awhile.”

“You’re a good dad. Always kinda figured you would be, though.” Billy took another breath. “You know, you could’ve told me sooner. I would’ve come back.”

“I don’t want you to, to change you life. Don’t quit school, or something.”

“Steve, I got a kid. I want to change my life for him. For, for you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“No never did. I’m choosing this. I’m choosing my family.” Steve hesitated.

“Would you like to come in? Have some breakfast? You could give Oliver his bottle, If you wanted.” Billy’s eyes lit up.

“I’d like that.”

#kinda open ended but this shit was getting LONG #yikes writes #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble #mpreg #trans!steve harrington #trans!steve #trans steve #trans steve harrington

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nvvermore · 3 years

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Songbird vs Rattlesnake

People get mean when the chips are down, and Amaryllis and Vesper were no exception to the rule.

words: 2115

cw: fighting, descriptions of burns/cuts/blood, manipulation, abuse, misgendering/deadnaming (for context, this is set in a period before anyone had ever come out)

—

“Hey Mal,” the greeting is snarled from behind directly behind Amaryllis. Whirling around reveals Veronique, leaning against the wall, nonchalant, positioned like she’d been just waiting for them to pass by. They wouldn’t be surprised to learn that was the case.

“What do you want?” they spit back. Really, they didn’t have the capacity for her antics today. Amaryllis hated being caught off-guard by their sister, anxiety now bubbling in the pit of their chest.

“Wow, I can’t simply seek out my baby sister for a little chat?”

Her arms are folded over her chest, and Amaryllis notes she’s in her riding clothes; her long, violet hair had been braided back, knee-high riding boots giving her short stature a boost, and well-tailored jodhpurs and dark riding jacket perfectly in place, not a wrinkle in sight. Clearly, she hadn’t come from the stables.

“No, you can’t.”

Veronique couldn’t, because her days of sitting and chatting pleasantly with Amaryllis were far behind them. They couldn’t imagine a single reason why she’d have a sudden change of heart.

“Gods, you really are such a fucking diva,” she pushed herself away from the wall, “I get it, the precious little songbird has much more important things to do than entertain the likes of me.”

“All I do is entertain the likes of you. That’s the only reason anyone keeps me around.”

“And you don’t even appreciate it.”

“Why would I appreciate being treated no different from a circus animal?” Kept in a cage and only let out to play for a selfish crowd, then shoved back in until the next show.

“I don’t know what the hell they all see in you,” she began to close the distance between them. Despite Amaryllis being the one who towered over her, they were intimidated. It was hard not to be. Though they wouldn’t let it show, even if Veronique surely knew the unease they instilled. “You get the entire crowd's love and attention and yet you don’t even give a damn about it!”

“You’re right, I don’t. It’s all just smoke and mirrors; I couldn’t possibly care any less.”

“You’re insufferable!”

Veronique was right before them now, had to tilt her head all the way up to look at them properly, but it didn’t detract from her imposing aura. Amaryllis returned their ice-blue glare, refusing to falter before her.

Over the years they’d gotten better at standing up to her; or at least standing their ground when she taunted them. Amaryllis didn’t like fighting— with anyone— especially not someone so unpredictable. Someone who, despite how illogical the feeling was, they loved. Someone who was supposed to love them, and possibly did once, but had been ruthlessly turned against them.

Veronique was never hostile to them before Amaryllis had started to take the stage; she might have been the only person who was nice to them who didn’t have to be. As a child their concept of ‘nice’ had been skewed, sure, but they were certain no one was forcing Veronique’s hand when Amaryllis would stumble upon her stargazing in the estate‘s gardens.

She’d invite them to sit and tell them all about the constellations. Or point out the bush nearby full of lilac-colored hydrangeas, and how they were her favorite. She’d explained how they symbolized heartlessness, and all flowers had a special meaning. Once, long before they ever saw themself as ‘Amaryllis’ or even a them, they’d asked her what the scarlett flowers in the garden meant, to which she replied ‘pride’.

The siblings were only six years apart in age, ten and sixteen around the time in question, but Amaryllis thought she was so much older and wiser. So gentle compared to the rest of the family, a trait they admired and constantly tried to emulate.

Amaryllis wasn’t allowed at parties, but that didn’t stop them from eavesdropping, inspired by the way everyone in the room seemed to gravitate towards Veronique. Showering her with compliments on her excellent riding form or her perfect aim with a bow, and how every word made her smile shine as bright as the stars she’d pointed out to them. They had very little understanding of familial relationships— and most social situations— and how they were supposed to work, but they understood that she was their big sister, and it made them happy to see her happy.

And then Amaryllis’s talent was exploited, and everything shifted. So they knew very well why Veronique hated them so much. The spotlight that once illuminated her belonged to them now, involuntarily snatching it away from her. And unfortunately for the both of them, their parents had made sure it was not a beam large enough to share.

Amaryllis was wracked with guilt at first, but it faded along with Veronique’s kindness towards them. After a while, they stopped feeling guilty. It wasn’t their fault, and like Amaryllis, her anger should have been directed at their parents who’d decided to pit them against each other. With every new act of disdain, the interactions they’d shared as children became irreparably tainted. It began to make sense why she favored hydrangeas, with their callous meaning.

“It must run in the family,” Amaryllis folded their arms in front of their chest. Clearly mimicking her posture, Veronique didn’t look pleased.

“Yea, on your mother’s side.”

The jab was misplaced, Amaryllis didn’t know their birth mother and never had; and when they gave no reaction Veronique scowled. Despite all her intimidation, she’d never been good at masking her expression. Before Amaryllis could retort at all, they were shoved backwards, just barely keeping their balance from the harsh action.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You! That’s what’s wrong with me. You! You’ve ruined everything for me! Always have!”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice, take it up with my superiors.”

Another shove, and another, and then Amaryllis was thrown against the wall and Veronique’s hands were circling around their neck. Their hands shoot to seize her wrists, nails digging into her skin as they attempt to pull her away. She’s strong, strong enough to hold Amaryllis a good inch off of the ground.

Their toes point down, reaching, but brush uselessly against the marble flooring. Amaryllis doesn’t want to fight back but there’s little choice, she’s actually trying to cut off their air. With regret even now, they slam a knee up into her stomach and she lurches back. Veronique is a skilled fighter, a star athlete, but now she’s angry and distracted and has left herself open in the process.

Their other knee slams into the floor as they’re dropped, and Amaryllis thanks their perfect breath control for the fact they aren’t breathless in the slightest. Veronique isn’t hurt, just surprised and irate. It wasn’t as if they had any other option, but Amaryllis may as well have just jabbed an already riled up rattlesnake with a stick.

“What the fuck? Escalating from tormenting me, to what? Attempted murder?”

Unhearing, she bends down to unsheathe a dagger from her boot. Certainly, they’re royally screwed. Amaryllis could keep up with a frenzied and unarmed Veronique, but they’re no match for her armed.

Amaryllis rises and quickly backs down the corridor, not sure if it's better to keep their eyes on her or turn and make a run for it. They’re cursing themself for not spending more time learning combat magic. Maybe they could charm her, but they’re terrified and unfocused, and when they open their mouth to scream, nothing comes out. The only things that could be heard were the clicking of boots against the tiling and Amaryllis’s rapid heartbeat.

In the blink of an eye Veronique is caught up to them, and effortlessly lands a kick to their chest that sends them crashing to the floor. Then she’s on them, pinning them to the floor, eyes dark and dagger poised with intention. Their hands catch her wrists again, and there’s a power struggle over the blade’s proximity to Amaryllis’s neck. They flail and kick but it’s no use; Veronique knows how to keep someone down, and is dense with muscle that makes her heavy.

“If you’re so miserable, let me do you a favor and put you out of it.”

It wasn’t a joke, it never had been, but the revelation sunk further the closer Veronique’s blade came to its mark. Amaryllis let their head fall back to the flood as the struggle continued, desperate to conjure up something, anything, to get out of this impasse. But they were afraid to the point of tears, already so tired, and magic didn’t come easy in such a state.

If they so much as took too deep a breath or flinched, the tip of the dagger would graze their nose. They weren’t trained for this, their stamina was impressive but they didn’t use it for fighting, but Veronique was trained for this. Amaryllis’s eyes fluttered shut and they wondered if it would be so horrible to just give in; she wasn’t wrong, they were miserable.

Just when they were debating on letting go, a raucous scream rang out and Amaryllis recoiled. They had thought it might have been their voice, but then they felt the sharp sting of the dagger slicing their cheek open as Veronique was dropping the knife and jolting away from them.

“You witch,”

Distantly, Amaryllis noted how warm their hands felt, and when they opened their eyes to the view of their palms turned searing sanguine, like iron fresh from the forge. A gasp falls from their lips, but the motion tells their brain the pain wasn’t coming from their hands. Slowly, they pick up a faint, but repulsive scent, and as their shock fades, they start to put the pieces together.

The screams were still sounding, and when they finally looked to Veronique, there were angry, bright red handprints burned into her wrists; enough to cause notable damage, but too little to have damaged the nerves. Somehow, at the last possible second, Amaryllis had mustered up magic capable of drastically heating up their palms. They weren’t even entirely sure if they had even known such a thing was possible.

It saved them, but it felt wrong. Never before had Amaryllis used their magic for something so destructive. The worst they’d ever done was place harmless charms on ‘noble’ guests. Despite Veronique’s full intention to gut them, they felt a conflict stirring, and for a moment wondered if they were capable of any healing.

Suddenly Veronique was approaching, and Amaryllis sat up and snatched up the dagger that had been abandoned nearby. As they held it, their touch began to rapidly heat the metal, and soon enough the weapon complemented their hands. There was a low hiss as their blood that had decorated the blade heated too, boiling away and leaving it congealed. Amaryllis was shaking and crying and bleeding, but they were unyielding as they turned the dagger on its owner.

Amaryllis watched her face carefully, telling themself they were prepared for her next move, so when something in her expression shifted, they saw. Like she had been in a trance, captivated by her rage and misplaced hatred, and it just hit her exactly what she’d done. Veronique gasped, the tears that had come from the burns now falling for completely different reasons. Frantically her eyes flitted between the red of Amaryllis’s eyes, the red of the wound marring their pale skin, the red of the blade leveled at her.

“Mal…” she choked out, and then she was dashing down the hall, gone as abruptly as she had seemed to appear.

Then, a scoff sounded from behind Amaryllis and they spun around, still on edge. Standing a few feet away, looking thoroughly disappointed, was the madame. She looked down upon her ward, bloodied and on the floor, and rolled her eyes.

“What a pity,” she said simply, and in that moment, Amaryllis reconsidered their stance on violence. “I had assumed she was more capable, but perhaps I had too much faith in her.”

It was the first true confirmation Amaryllis had of the woman’s crime; her carefully planned manipulation had fallen short, and she couldn’t even pretend to act like it was an accident.

“Get yourself cleaned up,” she ordered, and then left without another glance.

After that day, even long after the cut across Amaryllis’s freckled face had healed and faded into an unsightly scar, they never saw very much of Veronique again. Sometimes at night— however illogical it was— they’d find themself at the hydrangea bush in the garden, eyes trained on the stars, wishing they’d both been dealt a different hand in life.

—

#this is a lot #again this is long before amie comes out and long before vesper even realizes #amie is referred to as amaryllis and they bc its their pov #but vesper is referred to as veronique and she #also the arcana backgrounds on fics thing is cute so #dont mind if i do #amaryllis leroux #vesper tristesse #apprentice amaryllis #not apprentice vesper #amie fic #vesper fic #my ocs #my fic

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goatsandgangsters · 3 years

Note

For the trans asks! 1, 6, 14, 18, 25, 41?

1. How did you choose your name?

So the majority of people in my life call me either Em or EJ, though some people still call me Emeline (which is my given name). I don’t think I’ll ever consider it a deadname, because I do have some attachment, but I think the nicknames Em and EJ suite me better. People are welcome to use any of those options. While I’m particular about people getting my pronouns right and using neutral- or masculine-coded language, I’m kind of shrug emoji when it comes to names.

Em is actually largely @meyerlansky‘s doing (still suspended, rip), because they just... have a tendency to shorten people’s names and started calling me Em several years ago. And it just caught on! Particularly among online friends or mutual IRL friends, I looked around one day and was like “oh huh, a lot of people call me Em now, don’t they?”

EJ has a bit more of an intentional story behind it: I first thought of EJ back in mmmmaybe late 2018? I saw a post on tumblr that was like, “I think it’s cool how there are a couple different Categories that transmasculine names tend to fall into” and listing those out. And one of them was initialisms—with examples like AJ, CJ, TJ. And I noticed, you know, J is always the second letter. And EJ is ACTUALLY MY INITIALS. And I just instantly felt really good about that, because here was a Very Gender Neutral Name, but it still already felt like a name I’d had my entire life. It was fresh and familiar all at once. It fit into this J pattern while also still feeling unique, because EJ is not as common as other -J initialisms. I first tried it out when I started going to a trans group IRL, so I have an entire trans friend group that only calls me EJ. The majority of people at work also call me EJ—similarly because nicknames just spread sometimes. I left my official documentation under Emeline, but mentioned to a couple people that I also go by EJ and then I blinked and almost every single person I work with calls me EJ.

Both Em and EJ amuse me, because I’m surprised at how easy it is for people to pick up a nickname. I’ve found that people adjust to using a different name WAY more easily than they adjust to changing pronouns? Which is on the one hand an interesting observation, but on the other hand, it’s unfortunate because I CARE MORE ABOUT THE PRONOUNS PEOPLE USE THAN MY NAME

6. When did you realize you were transgender?

Short answer: 2012. I was a sophomore in college and one day I found out some people actually want to be their assigned gender?? I had thought we were all just miserably putting up with it.

(There’s a longer answer here about realizing my gender in 2012 but then spending years and years overcoming my internalized guilt about “not being trans enough” and constantly moving my own goal post of “well I’m not trans enough because I don’t do x” and then doing x and going “OKAY BUT I HAVEN’T DONE Y” and then doing y and going “YEAH BUT I DON’T DO Z” and then wanting z and finally realizing, hey uh, how many times are you gonna move this goal post and also you’re eventually going to run out of goal posts—and finally having to go OKAY FINE, YES, I’M TRANS ENOUGH. I’M OUT OF EXCUSES TO INVALIDATE MYSELF.)

14. How long have you been out?

2018 was the first time I started telling people directly to use they/them pronouns for me. (I know, I know, took SIX YEARS RIGHT? But processing that is what my therapist is for.) But before that, I was definitely like in that vague place of “blogs about gender feelings and nonbinary stuff often enough that everyone who follows me like probably knew for a number of years before I said anything directly.” But in 2018, I was finally being Concrete and Direct about it, put it in all my socials, etc. Then in 2019, I came out to my parents and at my job for the first time. So officially, 2–3 years overall!

18. How does your family feel about your trans identity?

If you asked them, they would tell you that they love and support me and they’re proud of me and they fully accept my identity.

If you asked me, I would tell you that while they do love and support me, trans stuff is COMPLETELY BRAND NEW to them, so they don’t always know the right ways to show that support. It’s one of those “sometimes I wish it didn’t take work, but I know they’re trying and they mean well” situations

They ARE making progress, albeit more slowly than I’d like. Neither of them had ANY IDEA what I was talking about when I first came out. They very much... did not understand what I was telling them. So I made them both read a very good book on the subject, which they did read, and that helped lay some groundwork.

My dad has been consistently good about using neutral language from the start and as of a couple months ago started consistently using my pronouns! My mom still has not used my pronouns ever, which is kind of a bummer because she’s had... two years. She’s at the stage of “notices when she gets it wrong” or “aware enough to avoid pronouns,” which is better than not noticing at all, but it’s still not as good as getting it right. iT’S A PROCESS. I’m trying to be patient with it. They mean well. But god I wish it could just be easy, like a light switch.

I still haven’t told them about my plans for top surgery. I’ve been putting off that conversation for....... months. It was actually the “pin in that for next week” comment to my therapist when we were wrapping up. But like, IDK IF YOU’RE STILL WORKING ON PRONOUNS, I FEEL LIKE “SURGICALLY REMOVING MY BOOBS” MIGHT SOUND LIKE A LOT?

25. What do you wish cis people understood?

I MEAN, QUITE A LOT. But if I have to get specific, I wish there was more understanding of why pronouns are actually important. I get the sense from a lot of cis people who are older and who don’t have a lot of understanding about queer stuff to begin with, that they think of pronouns as like “something they have to be PC about” and if they use the wrong pronouns I’m going to be mad and offended and they’re going to be sent to pronoun jail by the language police. Like, people approach pronouns by thinking “I need to remember that she uses they/them pronouns, so I need to only call her by them/them pronouns.”

But actually, I’m asking that they stop seeing me as a woman. I don’t want a linguistic bandaid slapped over internal misgendering. If you can’t internalize that I’m not a girl, then pronouns will continue to be a struggle. I’d rather people call me the right thing than the wrong thing, but I don’t want to only be called the right thing. I want to also be seen as the right thing, too. It’s like one of my friends had a coworker call them by the wrong pronoun and the coworker came to apologize and then was like “alright, see you later girl!” with apparently no cognitive dissonance whatsoever. Pronouns are important, but they’re also not JUST language. Pronouns are important because they signify seeing people authentically. I want people to get my pronouns right, but I don’t want getting my pronouns right to be ALL that people do.

Also, the idea that trans people are “angry and offended” when you misgender them because everyone is so sensitive and political correctness has gone too far, instead of like “it’s a painful reminder that you never get to just exist as your gender the way that cis people do, that no matter what you do there are always people who’ll use the wrong pronouns—sometimes unintentionally, sometimes intentionally, and it’s death by a thousand cuts” is a whole other rant I could go on. But if I get into how the myth of trans people being “easily offended” is dangerous, unfair, and untrue, we’ll be here all day.

41. What is the place (blog, website, forum, IRL space) you get most of your info on being trans or on trans related things?

When I was first starting out, I did—for better or worse—get a lot of information from tumblr. On the one hand, I can’t shit talk, because it did allow me access to information that at the time I couldn’t find anywhere else. On the other hand, tumblr is often an ugly place for information (and whatever nonbinary discourse and misperceptions might exist now, it was 38475785 times worse in 2012. good god. just fuckin wall-to-wall trusc*m). I can’t tell you how many “HOW TO PASS AS A MAN (FTM)” articles and blogs I read back in 2012 as well. I absorbed any information I could find about anything, anywhere, because it was not as widely available.

In the interceding years, I feel like I don’t know exactly where my information comes from. I just absorbed so much of it, wherever it could be found, that I don’t have a strong sense of where it comes from. I’ve watched countless “1 month on T / 3 months on T / 6 months on T / one year on T” videos on YouTube. I’ve trawled transbucket and facebook groups looking at people’s top surgery results. I’ve read lots of articles on fitting clothing and masculine style onto bodies that weren’t necessarily intended for those clothes.

Spending IRL time with trans people though has been by far the most enriching and healing, though. It wasn’t necessarily where I learned the basics like different methods of top surgery, but it was where I started un-learning a lot of the emotional baggage I’d picked up along the way.

[Trans ask game! What has been your gender journey?]

#in typical me fashion I gave you VERY LONG-WINDED ANSWERS to theoretically simple questions :p #big gender mood #smittyjaws

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Royal Growing Pains - Chapter Twenty

Warnings: Homophobia, transphobia, misgendering, sympathetic Deceit

Royal Growing Pains Tag

The worst bad thing about the rest of the dance practice was that Roman’s mother was there, so everyone had to deadname him. The second worst thing was that he was constantly getting criticised by his mother on his dance moves. The most irritating thing of the whole experience was that Damien seemed to do everything Logan was teaching them near-effortlessly, while Roman struggled to keep up.

They took a quick break after half an hour of dancing and Damien checked his phone, before immediately laughing. “Your brother is interrogating me,” he said in a low voice, showing Roman his phone.

Roman looked at all the questions Remus had spammed in the group chat before rolling his eyes and pulling out his own phone. re, cut it out. damien and i don’t even get our phones while we’re doing dance practice. and i don’t think damien wants to answer all those questions

Damien huffed and started typing, and Roman saw his message a moment later. that’s a blatant lie, i can and will answer any questions you have. later. when i’m not about to die from a broken neck dancing

please, your dancing is FAR better than mine, Roman shot back.

you two are SERIOUSLY having this conversation while standing next to each other, aren’t you? Remus asked.

Damien turned red and Roman choked on his laughter. you know me too well, re

of course i do, you’re my baby brother Remus replied.

“He’s older by two minutes!” Roman muttered indignantly, and texted as much.

Damien snickered. “If this is what you’re like when you get to interact with your brother, I’ll have to ask him around frequently. I enjoy when you’re full of life like this.”

“I’m ‘full of life’? As opposed to, what, dead inside?” Roman asked.

“I mean...the first time I saw you my first impression was that you were either about to pass out or just work on autopilot for an indeterminable amount of time,” Damien said with a shrug. “So dead inside applies.”

Roman snorted. “Honey, you haven’t seen me dead inside until I’ve had to spend a full day in meetings with Remus. That’s an experience I would never wish upon my worst enemy.”

“Really? Who would you wish it on, if not your worst enemy?” Damien asked.

Roman stared Damien dead in the eye and said with complete sincerity, “My parents.”

Damien howled with laughter, nearly falling over as his legs shook. “Oh, God,” he wheezed. “I was not prepared!”

“Clearly not,” Roman said, starting to giggle.

“I need—I need the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” Damien said, staggering away, still laughing.

Roman turned as Logan started clapping. “I have never seen anyone make Damien laugh that hard before two in the morning, bravo,” he said, completely deadpan.

“I nearly made him pee himself, didn’t I?” Roman asked knowingly.

Logan just arched an eyebrow and said, “What do you think?”

Roman giggled and walked over to Logan. “While he’s gone, I don’t suppose you could be my dance partner and show me something Damien doesn’t know yet?”

“I can be your dance partner,” Logan agreed. “But learning new steps might be a bit too ambitious for the two minutes he’s gone.”

“Can we try anyway?” Roman asked.

“Yeah, of course,” Logan said, helping Roman get in position. “Okay, now the very first thing you’re going to want to do is to keep your feet flat on the floor, or you risk the danger of twisting something...”

Roman nodded along as Logan walked him through the steps of a dance Roman had never heard of before. Roman did a lot of looking at his feet as they ran through it once, then again as it went twice. The third time, Logan forced Roman to keep his head up and they went through all the steps just in time for Damien to walk back in the room. “Hey!” he exclaimed indignantly. “Logan, you cannot just steal my fiancé!”

“Oh, but I can,” Logan said, smirking. “And I think she prefers dancing with me over you.”

Damien made an affronted noise as Roman laughed. “I like dancing with both of you,” he said, looking between them. “No need to make this a competition for my heart. Love triangles are overrated, anyway.”

“True, polyamory is far more ideal,” Logan agreed in a voice just this side of too soft for Roman’s mother to hear.

“Speaking from experience?” Roman asked as Damien walked over.

“No comment,” Logan said with a small smirk.

Damien sighed. “How much longer are we going to go through dance practice?” he asked.

“I can hold you both reasonably for another hour,” Logan said. “And then Her Highness has a meeting with the King.”

“I have a what?” Roman asked, voice shrill in shock.

Logan blinked. “Had no one told you? The king wanted to talk with you, one on one before the wedding.”

“Oh, great!” Roman said, hysteria rising in his chest. “That’s going to go over perfectly, I’m sure!”

“My dear, you’ll be fine,” Damien laughed. “My father and I have similar senses of humor and similar temperaments. You get on fine with me, I’m sure my father will find you a delight.”

“That does not make me feel any better,” Roman said simply. “You and I have also had disagreements as well.”

Damien sighed. “Well, my father said that whenever he planned on talking to you, I was not allowed in the room. Apparently I could influence your answers and make you be dishonest in order to spare my feelings, or something of that ilk. Something tells me the conversation won’t be about you, but me.”

“That doesn’t help!” Roman exclaimed, heart hammering in his chest. Would he have to tell the King that he liked Damien? What would the King do? How would he react? “If the conversation is about you, then what if I’m accused of being a poor influence? What if he says I’m not fit to stay here?”

“‘What if’ questions will get you nowhere but in trouble, my dear,” Damien advised. “Try to breathe.”

Roman made a distressed noise and Damien sighed. “My father has spoken to you all of maybe three or four times, my dear. He simply wants to know you better. And probably your thoughts on the whole situation here. He likes knowledge, and likes to know every view on a situation. Your perspective is one he hasn’t heard before. Please, just give yourself some room to breathe and relax. You’ll do fine,” Damien assured.

With great effort, Roman took in a shaky breath. “I’m not ready for that,” he said. “I’m not ready. Let’s just...let’s just dance. I need to take my mind off of that.”

Damien nodded and he and Roman danced for a while. Roman was shaky at first, but every time his hands started to tremble too hard Damien would give them a reassuring squeeze. Slowly, Roman was able to let go of his worries and just enjoy dancing for a while. But of course, all too soon, that had to come to an end.

Just as Roman was laughing at Damien twirling him, Virgil came into the room and said, “His Majesty wishes to speak to the princess.”

Roman’s stomach sank, not only at being misgendered but at the fact that the hour had passed so quickly. Damien gave Roman a soft smile. “You’ll do wonderfully, my dear. Just remember to be yourself, all right?”

Roman swallowed and nodded, even as his hands shook and his legs felt like jelly as he walked over to Virgil. To his credit, Virgil placed a reassuring hand on Roman’s shoulder. “I’m not ready for this,” Roman said simply as they walked out of the ballroom. “I’m not ready.”

Virgil sighed. “You’ll do fine, Roman. I know you haven’t spoken with the King much, but he’s nothing if not fair. He’ll give you a chance to explain whatever has been rattling around in your head if you ask for it.”

“I’m still not ready,” Roman repeated.

Virgil sighed, and turned to face Roman fully. “Roman, what are you worried about? Be honest. Because the king isn’t transphobic, he isn’t homophobic, and he takes secrets to his grave. There’s no reason for you to freak out over those things, at least.”

Roman sighed. “I just...he’s going to be my father-in-law. I want to give him a good impression,” he shrugged and mumbled, “I want him to think I’m worthy of marrying Damien.”

Virgil blinked. “Roman, the King won’t judge you on whether or not you’re ‘worthy’ of being married to his son. He already agreed to this whole ordeal, he wouldn’t have done that if he thought you would hurt Damien.”

Roman shifted on his feet and was about to protest when a voice said, “Ah, Virgil. I’ll take him from here.”

Turning, Roman paled. The King was there, looking at both of them. Virgil nodded and gave Roman one last, “You’ll be fine,” as he left.

“Come with me, Roman,” the King said.

Roman’s heart leapt into his throat as he complied, following the King down the halls to a study. The King sat down in one of the chairs in the study, and he gestured for Roman to sit in the chair across from him. “Please, have a seat.”

With his heart hammering in his chest, Roman sat down. “So...what did you want to talk to me about?” Roman asked.

The King offered Roman a small smile. “Relax, Roman, you’re not in trouble,” he said. “I just wanted to get to know you a little better and know what you felt about the situation we’ve all found ourselves in.”

“O-oh,” Roman said. “I mean, it’s okay, I guess.”

“Okay?” the King laughed. “Roman, you told your parents you were transgender and they promptly tried to marry you off to make you their ‘daughter’ again. Most people I know would not describe that as ‘okay.’”

Roman took a breath and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said softly.

The King leaned forward. “Roman, I want your honest opinion,” he said, not unkindly. “I talked to Damien. He said you didn’t want to be used as a chess piece, or a mold for your mother to live through. Where’s the man who holds that righteous indignation, who’s independent, who’s not afraid to tell people that he won’t sit down and shut up?”

“My mother is killing him,” Roman said honestly. “Slowly but surely, he’s dying.”

The King nodded in understanding. “I want to know what you think, son. Don’t be afraid of judgement here. Tell me what you think, and I promise it will never leave these walls if you don’t want them to.”

Roman leaned back into his chair and shook his head, laughing. “You want to know the most pathetic thing about this whole ordeal?” he asked. “I told myself I wouldn’t catch feelings. I told myself the second I got the chance, I’d file for a divorce and run away and never look back to my old life. And what do I do? I catch feelings! Because I’m a hopeless gay man who sees any shred of affection as reason for attraction and I fall hopelessly in love with anyone who treats me like someone who deserves to be respected.”

The King just sat there in silence, looking at Roman expectantly.

“And I know, I know I shouldn’t call myself pathetic, but that’s how I feel!” Roman exclaimed. “And I always do this! Anyone shows me attention that’s positive, and they’re not related to me and I feel affection for them! Usually, it goes away with time, or something happens that makes it fade faster, but no, everything Damien does makes it grow stronger! He makes sure I’m validated, and that I know my own worth, and he checks on me to make sure that I’m feeling all right and...and I love him for it, and I know I can never tell him. Because he doesn’t want to be married. At least, he doesn’t want to be married to me. He wanted the chance to be married to someone he truly loved, and I took that from him—”

“—Roman, that isn’t something that you took from him,” the King interrupted. “You didn’t go up to your parents and insist that you be married off. Your parents are the ones who came up with the idea. Blame them. I know that Damien in part blamed his mother and myself for the whole arrangement. What I haven’t told him yet is that your parents were threatening war if you didn’t get married to someone. It didn’t matter who, but if no one agreed, then they would start a war and make sure that everyone was dragged into it. We were their last hope. And, because we didn’t want to start a war with people who have a frankly appalling amount of money going into their military, we agreed. But your parents are the ones to blame here, not you.”

Roman buried his head in his hands with a groan. “I wish I could say I was surprised about their threats,” he said. “I really wish I could. But sadly, I’m not. They’re always like this. They threatened to send me home if I didn’t say I was wrong in how I felt. And you can’t fake how you feel, you know? That’s something that you can’t simply wave away and suddenly feel different. It’s real and it hurts to be told, ‘you’re not allowed to feel this way, because we don’t want you to.’ Like, do you really hate your own son so much? That you’d try to kill him? Just to keep your daughter?”

The King sighed. “I wish I could make sense of things for you, son. But the fact of the matter is that some people are just cruel. And nothing we can do will ever change that fact.”

Roman miserably nodded. “So that’s how I feel, I guess. Trapped, pathetic, and hopelessly crushing. Does that tell you all you need to know?”

“Well, I would appreciate being able to talk to you more, but that does give me a basis on what to talk about,” the King said. “Tell me a little more about why you like my son?”

“I mean...he’s kind, and funny, and he does his best to make sure that I’m okay even when things kinda suck and we’re trapped doing whatever to make sure my mother is happy. He’s just...honestly, he’s the kind of guy I’d crush on even if I weren’t doomed to be married by the end of the week. He’s cute, too. Like, when he smiles and laughs at something I say, he just sorta does this thing, where his eyes light up and if he tries to hide his laughter he can’t do it the whole way, and he just kinda shakes and it’s the most adorable thing,” Roman rambled. “It’s really fun to get to see. And he’s smart, he’s so smart, he told me he has an interest in philosophy? And one day I have plans to get him to rant to me about it in great detail so I can see the passion in his eyes and watch as he gets excited over it. I really want to know more about him. I want to...I mean, I want to know everything, but I’ll settle for learning whatever I can for the next week until my parents are out of the picture, you know? Once they’re gone, I can learn absolutely anything I want.”

“What would you want to know?” the King asked.

Roman shrugged with a sheepish grin. “Honestly, I’m not really sure,” he admitted. “Half of the fun is realizing you never would have thought to ask stuff but now you have all these new questions to ask because there’s a whole side to someone you never realized existed.”

“Ah, you’re one of those types,” the King said with a grin. “My wife is much the same, you and her will get along.”

Roman felt relief start to trickle through him. The King being relaxed and kind was starting to get Roman to relax as well. “So do you have anything else to ask me?”

“Well, I was going to ask you how you felt about my son, but you answered those questions for me,” the King said. “Once it became clear that you genuinely liked him, I wanted to make sure you would never intentionally hurt him, but I can see clearly that you very much care for him. Hurting him would never be your intention.”

“Yeah, of course not,” Roman said. “I’d never want to hurt Damien.”

“Then we’ll have no problems,” the King said with a grin. “The two of you can get married, and get to know each other better. I have no doubt that both of you have the potential to really love each other, given the time to get to know each other.”

Roman offered a small smile back. “I really hope so,” he admitted softly. “That would be amazing.”

The King nodded knowingly. “Would you like to talk more before dinner, or would you rather go find my son and talk to him?”

Roman considered. On one hand, he did want to talk to Damien more. On the other, he also needed some time away from his mother, and his mother would inevitably find him if he were with Damien. And now he was calm being around the King, so he didn’t have to worry about a panic attack or dysphoria here. “Why don’t we talk some more?” Roman proposed. “We can always see the others at dinner.”

The King gave Roman a genuinely delighted smile. “Excellent!” he said. “What do you want to talk about?”

Roman shrugged. “I don’t know. Any and everything, I suppose.”

“I can work with that,” the King said.

Tag List: @lunareclipse-13@sanders-sides-crofters@blushy-gigglee-mess@wannacrymetoo@kaytikitty@magicalspacepanunicorn@bootsinthesun@pricklyfish777@flowersanddinosaurs@leiasolo77@birdybabybird@enby-phoenix@luna--28@justagaygoose@the-prince-and-the-emo@fandomsandanythingelse@randommuffinyt@snekky-boi@thesoftestlittlepuffballwegot@twilight-trix@abby5577@escalatingtoofast@friendlyfacestabbing@remus-is-stinky@foggybanditdreampeanut@ghostskull300@sprinklestheditty@canvas-the-florist@askthesnake@samuel-the-gay@determination-saved@juicy-cashew@demidork84@why-should-i-tell-youu2@nerd-in-space@aphriteblack@loganpatton@lilbeanblr@kittyboof8@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch@sanders-trash-4ever@hamilspntrash@swords-and-kittens@phantomfander@narniasfinestavengingsociopath@rjmeta@ambersky0319@anni-cat-flower@idosanderssidespromptssometimes@nafsbluebery@redisawerewolf23@voidvirgil@msu82@angstyfanfiction

#roceit #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #royal growing pains #our creations

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hana-and-her-bs · 4 years

Text

IRL Hisoka's Bullshit: A Comprehensive Guide

Welcome to the long ass timeline of david’s lies and misdirections. Make sure you’ve got time before you read this, it’s almost 4,000 words long.

(hana, while editing this to post: please add a “keep reading” cut right here.)

Our tumblr family’s first encounter with David was when he made a headcanon request in my inbox. He asked for several characters with an s/o who is depressed and self harms, adding an extra comment on the fact that he wasn’t feeling well lately. When I refused this request and said he could talk to me about that if he wanted to, he sent in another anonymous ask apologizing for triggering me or anyone else and asked if he could tell me why he was feeling this way. I assured him that it wasn’t a big deal and referred him to several nonspecific helplines. He then sent in another ask, this time he coming off anon. He told me that he was trans and that his dysphoria was really bad lately. I answered this ask privately with several more specific hotlines and a little bit of advice. He thanked me in another ask and headed off to sleep.

The next event in our little timeline is Hana’s hate anon. The earliest appearance I found was on July 29th, although I know there were some before that. This is only a hateful ask and not the essay that led to Hana’s hiatus. That essay was submitted by an anon on August 1st, and it got lots and lots of love and support from many, all of them rightfully telling Hana how amazing she is and defending her against the hate. Hana then announced she was going on hiatus. We believe David took notice of the attention she received here and decided he wanted a little of his own.

Mere hours after Hana’s hiatus announcement, she made a second post entitled “Hiatus of Hiatus (Momentarily)”. The body text of that post said, “Please stop Dming me and telling me not to kms. I’m not going to, I promise. I really don’t want to be reminded that I’m in a position where people think that I would do that. I’m sorry, I appreciate the concern, however, I’m not suicidal in the least.”

These are the first few events in our timeline. Remember, every claim here is alleged. If we’re wrong about everything we look like assholes, so everything is alleged.

Now to the interesting part. On August 3rd, David made a post that said, and I quote, “Can you please, please stop sending things to my inbox saying ‘you’re still a girl’ and ‘you’re a fag and a tranny’ Please I’m so tired of it”. Are you noticing a pattern? The phrasing of this post is uncannily similar to the phrasing of Hana’s “Hiatus of Hiatus (Momentarily)” post. There were no posts about getting any asks on his blog at the time, and no one who has been following him since August 3rd remembers there being any. It’s unlikely he answered some in a post and then deleted them, as this doesn’t appear to be a habit of his in the future. In looking for receipts for this timeline, nothing we were looking for had been deleted. Not a single post. So it’s highly unlikely he somehow managed to post these anon messages and then delete them before any of us could read them. Another possibility is that he deleted the messages as soon as they entered his inbox, and that’s a reasonable argument. The only thing that makes this illogical is the fact that he posted every other anon message in the future. It makes no sense that he would delete the first ones and decide to answer the second ones publicly. It would make more sense if he had hate anons that he was posting first and then decided to delete the messages after he got fed up with them. But that’s not what happened, as you’ll see later.

At this point, David is only claiming to have hate anons. We have two theories for why he didn’t just send himself hate messages at first rather than only claiming to be receiving them. One is that he used this post as an interest gauge that he wanted to see if he’d get as much support as Hana did when that hate anon’s essay was posted. The second is that he hadn’t thought of the idea yet, that he hadn’t realized he could send them himself instead of waiting for someone else to come along and send some for him.

He then made a post on August 4th saying “I’m done. Absolutely, done. Wtf is wrong with you anon. telling me to kms. I’m doing what Hana did I forgot what it’s called tho. Fuck you anon. I’m waving my white flag [white flag emoji].” This is him saying he was going on hiatus like Hana had announced only 4 days prior. Again, there is no actual evidence of him receiving any real hate anon messages yet. It’s unlikely he did. Hana had 250 followers at the time of getting hate anons, while David had no more than 10. While it’s not impossible for him to have actually gotten hate anon messages, it’s highly, highly unlikely for reasons previously stated and reasons yet to come.

David didn’t really go on hiatus at all. To give him a little credit, he didn’t post anything notable for about 3 days after this, but I’d hardly call that a break. On August 7th, though, all hell broke loose.

August 7th was the most notable day in the entire timeline. Because this was the day when we saw the first actual hate anon messages. The first one he received said “Hi! I just wanted to say Your just a fucking tranny and a fag and god hates you. Please delete this app! Your fics aren’t even that good. They suck. Also kill your self nobody would care!” To which David replied a simple 3 dots. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never actually seen David write anything on his blog. I know he has, but I feel like you’d have to be awfully active on his page and have been there from the very beginning to know about the fact that he’s posted fanfiction. After the first post got a lot of backlash from myself and David’s other mutuals at the time, a second and third anon message came rolling in. These had a much more loving theme, however. They weren’t the hate anon, but a couple of anons supporting David (one of which was me). After David replied to those two positive anon messages, three more hate messages were posted with equal amounts of support for David in the replies as before. After that, three more love anons pulled in, again, one of which was myself. A final anon message appeared for the day, and with that, the hate anons were over for the 7th. He got another love anon after that. The next anon message posted was one of the last love anons asking for a request. Again, he doesn’t really write and the fact that requests were open wasn’t advertised or even written anywhere, leading us to believe this anon is also David himself. The anon asked for headcanons with a couple characters dating a demisexual girl. David said he’d have to do some research because he didn’t know what the term demisexual meant and asked a few more clarifying questions, claiming the headcanons would be posted “Monday or Tuesday”. It’s been over two weeks since then and no such headcanons were posted. This led us to believe that he was this anon, and that he was using this ask as fuel for future hate anon messages. The final thing that happened on the 7th was a request clearly made to trigger someone. It had mentions of suicide and sexual violence, both topics David has expressed he is uncomfortable around. Again, I think this message was sent by David for aforementioned reasons. He doesn’t really get requests and not many people knew he took them. However, to play devil’s advocate, he did get that anon message asking for a demisexual reader before this and this supposed “anon” could’ve gotten the idea there. Unlikely, but possible. (an added note after: I told David in a dm that day to turn off the anon option so that the hate anon could be traced, and he refused. Just an interesting detail.) That wraps up August 7th.

On August 8th, he posted that he punched a cop and was placed in a holding cell, being released sometime on the 8th. It’s unclear when he was originally placed in the cell, if this happened at all. After this, he received another hateful message, assumedly from the same anon as the previous night. This one criticized him for not knowing the meaning of demisexual and insulted his appearance and his writing once more. He apologized for not knowing the definition and moved on, until another message popped up insulting him and misgendering him. Both of these also got a lot of backlash from myself and his other mutuals at the time. We were encouraging the hate anon to come after us instead of David in these, which will come into play later. He also got 4 more love anon messages, one of which seemed to be written by him. It said, “I love your writing, sir. Pls don’t listen to rude people. I hope I rote this correctlly English is my second language.” As Hana can confirm, non-native English speakers simply don’t type this way. It was very clearly written by someone with English as their first language pretending to be someone who didn’t know the language very well. This looks to me like he has been sending himself multiple love anon messages to encourage other real people to do the same, and he’s trying to make it look like there’s a lot of different people supporting him rather than the same few, which leads us to believe several other love anons were also David himself. Again, all of this is alleged, it’s just what it looks like from here. After those few love anons, the hate anon appeared again, only this time, it was in Anarchy’s inbox. Anarchy defended David fiercely, much to David’s satisfaction, I imagine. There were multiple exchanges between Anarchy and this supposed hate anon, each time Anarchy responded with a lengthy paragraph about how much she appreciated David. In one of the anon messages, the anon used David’s deadname, which he never listed on his profile (obviously). You might think that’s damning, but he explains it away later. The last things that happened on the 8th was that he made a post saying how much he hated being with his mom and step mom due to then treating him unfairly. This led to a post that said, “Hi this is davids step mother. I don’t understand why he has been saying these things. I will be taking his phone because I have never done this to him.” This is unlikely for a number of reasons. How did the step mom know what he was saying if we almost know for sure she doesn’t have tumblr without having taken his phone already? And who makes a Tumblr post about taking their step son’s phone away right after doing it? It reminds me a lot of that one Xbox live chat where the kid pretended to commit suicide and then acted like his father messaging the person who “caused his suicide,” but I digress. He later updated his followers by saying he didn’t let her take his phone. Riiiiight. Okay. Moving on.

August 9th was a big day for David, or at least for who he’s portraying himself to be. Not at first, though. This was the day he claims to have moved in with his boyfriend and the day he was proposed to. Or at least, that’s what he wants us to think. But we’ll get to that in a second. The first thing of note that he posted that day was that he was having trouble with his dysphoria, which led to multiple anon messages reaffirming his gender identity. He also posted a storytime that also supposedly happened that day about going to the beach. To quote it: “So me and my boyfriend went to go for a walk along the beach. We’re walking and I have to go to the bathroom luckily there was a restaurant not to far from there so I just ran because ya bitch had to pee. Anyways a girl started hitting on my boyfriend while I was In the bathroom (he told me and i saw when i came back) so i’m walking back up and what do I see? a girl really close to my boyfriend and she has her hand on his shoulder so i start To walk over there and my boyfriend sees me and runs and jumps into my arms and kisses me. The girl rolls her eyes and leaves. I’m a blushing mess from the PDA. I put him down and go get Ice cream.” Now, this is just a nitpicky thing, nothing to do with the rest of the points made. But that story looks like it was ripped right off of r/thattotallyhappened I’m so sorry if it was actually true but at this point, with how much he’s (*ahem* allegedly) lied about, I wouldn’t put it past him. Back to the main thing that happened on the 9th. This is the first point we have definitive proof for. If you reverse image search the image David posted of the engagement ring, it brings up the following pages:

And what do we see when we click on one of those links?

A list of different kinds of wedding rings and their respective pros and cons, including this very image. I think it’s safe to say this website didn’t rip this photo from David’s tumblr page. Get excited, people! This is indisputable evidence that he lied and there’s no way to explain his way out of it! Awesome. Moving right along, this is getting hella long.

August 10th. Nothing really notable about this day, David posted a submission about how to block anons though. This was also the day that the hate anon came into my inbox instead. Not to attack me, but to attack David. Again, at this point we’re going with the assumption that David is the anon. I defended him again, and when I got sick of it I turned off the anon option to see what would happen and surprise surprise, no more anon messages. That’s about all that happened on the 10th.

On the 11th he claimed to have gotten r*pe and death threats without posting the anon messages. At this point, it’s almost reasonable to believe he deleted them right out of his inbox and moved on. Almost.

On the 12th, the hate anon was back in my inbox. They sent me two asks, one of which I responded to and the other I didn’t. At the second one, I blocked the anon’s IP address, meaning that they could never send me another ask again, anon or not. What’s damning about this is that after this day, I never got another ask from David again. Normally he’d at least send something while ask games were going around, but from that point on I got absolutely nothing. This is almost definitive proof that David was his own hate anon. Another thing that happened that day, after Hana flirted with me a little bit publicly he encouraged us to date. That’s wrong for a number of reasons and seems extra creepy now, but we won’t be getting into that now.

Things died down a bit until the 15th. This is the day the hate anon supposedly forgot to press “ask anonymously” and revealed themselves. The account was someone he claimed to be his sister, but the entire account was based around David and there was no previous activity and as soon as all the (*cough* manufactured) “drama” died down, the account disappeared. Just stopped existing altogether. We think David used this account to explain how the hate anon seemed to know him so well, even though the account seemed a lot like it was created and run by David. There was a dm conversation between David and this sister account posted on David’s account, basically with the sister insulting him and him responding very calmly to that. He only posted the hate message the sister sent off anon after he’d said it was his sister. What I’m wondering is how David knew this account was his sister by just reading the username. If there was no previous history (indicative of the account being created with the sole purpose being to hate David) how did he know it was his sister? It’s not like he’d think to just ask her irl if that was her account. Another thing that happened on the 15th was a post about him talking with his uncle. To quote: “I was on the phone with my uncle (who hasn’t seen me in 7 years) and he asks how old i am and when I tell him, he gets so quiet. Like is he surprised?” Notice how he doesn’t list a specific age in the post. He’s told everyone in the tumblr family group a different number, and he’s trying not to allude to that fact. He also claims to have had a big verbal argument with his “fiancee” that day where his fiancee threw his ring at him and packed up for his sister’s house on the 15th only 6 days after their alleged engagement. We don’t get another update on that until the next day, the 17th.

The 17th was when “Jackson” and David officially broke up.

On the 20th, a mysterious account called “jackson-periodt” showed up, reblogging David’s posts publicly begging David to take him back. But David refused. Like the sister account, this account had no previous history and disappeared after the “drama” subsided. The fact that we know now that he definitely lied about being engaged brings up all kinds of questions. What did he tell the truth about? Or, to be more apt, what didn’t he lie about? Is anything he’s told us true? Was he ever even dating a “Jackson”? And who asks for a second chance PUBLICLY on TUMBLR?

Then the 22nd, when all the pedophilia and predation came to light, David issued a half assed apology and hasn’t been heard from since. At least on his main account.

For awhile, there’d been a Carolina anon going around the tumblr family’s blogs and everything.

When David’s predation was brought to light, they came off anon, sporting the URL @/carolina209. Awfully similar to the Jackson alias, don’t you think? It’s just like the other accounts, the sister one and the Jackson one. No previous history, no profile picture, no banner, nothing but a title and a bio. You’d think they’d be a little more fleshed out, but they’re just… not. This Carolina anon was in everyone’s inboxes in our little tumblr family besides mine. That might be because they just don’t want to talk to me, or it could be because the hate anon, David, and Carolina accounts all have the same IP address that I blocked. Outlandish, I know. But if you look on the @/hana-and-her-bs account and all the screenshots of dms between Hana and Carolina, it starts to look a little more believable. Carolina’s flighty, her stories don’t add up. And she’s claiming to be a BNHA writer without having done any actual writing or anything to allude to the fact that they even actually like writing. Sound familiar? It should. Now, again, playing devil’s advocate here, it’s very possible she just hasn’t gotten around to posting any writing yet. After all, her account has seemingly only been around a few days. But she got real close to us all real quick, especially to Logan, the previous object of David’s revolting behavior. The Carolina account has tried to make it very clear that they’re a minor. If David is behind it (which we’re 99% certain of), this absolutely discredits his entire apology post. If he was truly sorry, he wouldn’t be trying it a second time.

Another thing that convinces me David is behind this Carolina account is that Carolina is defending the fact that David’s a minor. Not outright, but subtly. If you check those aforementioned screenshots, you’ll see what I mean. The account implies it has proof that David is 16-17. It seems like he’s trying a little too hard to sell this “innocent little girl who’s just soooo afraid of the scary bad man” persona on this alt account. The whole thing is just a little suspicious.

And that’s everything we have so far. It’s a lot, I know (3.8k words worth my lord), but I hope you can all understand just how deep this goes. We thought this was a simple case of predation, when in reality it’s a very clear pattern of insecurity and compulsive lying. Again, all of this is alleged (except the ring part. That’s not alleged, that’s definitive proof) so don’t @ me, alright? Alright.

Dishonorable mentions:

He claims his birthday is on August 5th, while the Carolina account (supposedly a close real life friend of his, but we think is actually David) says his birthday is the 6th.

He told me he went on a first date with a boy 2 months ago, then got engaged on the 9th. When I asked him how long they’d been dating, he said 3 years, then he clearly claimed to have been dating him for 7. It doesn’t add up.

Claims his dad left him and then days later says his dad is the nicest person you’d ever meet and that he lives with his dad while his sister lives with his mom. Again, doesn’t add up.

He reblogged anti-pedo posts about having pedo apologists unfollow him, and said, “its disgusting how two people unfollowed me.” while literally being a pedo. This one’s more funny than annoying or disgusting.

The alleged sister account, @/okay-but-who-asked? They liked one of my posts, and I can’t prove it at all, but it’d be HELLA funny if it was because David forgot to switch accounts before liking my content.

A closing statement: David, if you’re reading this, please take a break from tumblr. From all social media, honestly. I mean that in the nicest way possible. I’ve said this over and over again, but I’m gonna say it again because it’s important. If you’re going to use your platform like this, you don’t deserve a platform. Full stop. Please take a break and come back when you learn how to act like a decent truth-telling human being. This story is honestly really sad to think about, the fact theory that you’re so insecure you made a hate anon persona to get attention. There are better ways to make friends, man, trust me. Get a therapist and figure it out. Pedophilia isn’t a valid coping mechanism.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Thank you, Babe! A timeline to keep in mind for the grand finale, which is postponed. For the time being, please try your hardest to make a friend like bond with Carolina, for I’ll be gone for 5 days starting tomorrow. After that, shit will hit the fan. ❤️❤️❤️ Hana

@jmeyerss @gayfanficanonymous @anarchytheselfshipper @red-riot-rat @squishytenya

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asrasotherbottom · 5 years

Text

Mother Trauma (JulianxMC)

I’m putting this under a readmore so that I can put the warnings before it.

Content warning: Emotional abuse, misgendering, deadnaming, suicide threats as manipulation, emotional manipulation, abuse

@malakdevorak

They paced in front of the door nervously, thoughts swirling around in their head. Their mother was supposed to arrive any minute. She had sent someone by less than an hour ago to let them know to prep a guest room for her and that she would be dropping by. They were filled with dread at the very thought of seeing her again, much less having Julian meet her. Up until now they had hoped that they could avoid talking to him about their past, about their history and their mother. The word was almost painful for them to say. Mother.

She was never kind to them, not loving and caring like a mother should be, like a child deserves. Instead she was cruel, abusive, and manipulative, at least in private. In private she would scream and threaten and manipulate. She would deadname and misgender and abuse. They lost count of the number of times she tried to manipulate them by threatening suicide or to destroy a treasured possession. It was just how she was, her personality. In public, though, she was an angel. She was helpful, courteous, and sweet. Everybody they knew loved her, but they didn’t know who she really was. Nobody knew her like they knew her.

Just the thought of seeing her face again twisted their stomach into knots. Over and over again in their head they replayed the ways that she abused them. The sound of her voice was enough to make them flinch. The worst part was knowing that Julian would love her too. She was so charming when she wanted to be, and Julian was a sucker for charm. He didn’t even know she was coming over; he was still out at the clinic.

Three sharp knocks on the door were all it took to make the blood drain from their face. Their hand trembled slightly as they opened the door. Twisting their face into a pained smile, they greeted their mother. She stood before them with a large smile on her face. They wondered how she managed to smile at them knowing everything she’d done to them. Maybe they’ll never understand, maybe they don’t want to.

“Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Oh yes, tea would be lovely. You remember how I like it, yes?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Good good. So this is where you’re living? Its...small. And it doesn’t smell particularly pleasant. It seems like it’d be hard for you to be a good wife with a kitchen this small.”

“I’m not a wife. Here’s your tea.”

“You’re not still on about all that are you?”

Just in time, you hear Julian’s voice calling out from downstairs. Rushing downstairs, you grab his arm and pull his face close to yours.

“Love? Are you alright?” He whispered to them.

“Not...exactly. My mother is here, a surprise visit and -” Julian cut them off, standing up tall and puffing his chest out.

“Mother’s love me! Not to fret.” He kissed the top of their head and proceeded up the stairs ahead of them.

The rest of the evening was uneventful for the most part. Julian was telling stories of his days out at sea and their mother was laughing and enjoying herself. They cooked dinner for the three of them. Julian didn’t notice the way the edges of her lips twitched in judgement when they placed the plate in front of her. They tried to relax as the night wore on, hopeful that Julian’s presence would keep their mother from any unpleasant outbursts. After the plates were cleared, Julian and their mother sat talking for a while longer. In the middle of a very involved story, Julian reached for his pen and came up empty.

“Ah, I, erm, must have left my pen downstairs.” He swiftly exited the living area and went downstairs. As soon as he was out of earshot, she turned around and gave them a stern look.

“This is how you live?! When you left to apprentice under a doctor, I thought you were finally going to make something out of your worthless life. But here you are, doing magic tricks for pennies! You can’t even cook! What sort of woman doesn’t know how to cook for her husband! I don’t know what’s keeping him here because with your cooking and the way you obviously haven’t been taking care of yourself, I can’t see any reason he’d stay!” She seemed like she was never going to stop, but Julian burst loudly into the living area. He wrapped them up in his arms before turning harshly towards their mother.

“Nobody gets to come into OUR home and speak to my partner like that.” Their mother looked positively taken aback by the outburst, but she merely crossed her arms and exhaled sharply through her nose. Julian wasn’t done.

“I love them, they are smart and talented, brave and loving. I would never dare trade them for the world itself and you have no right to try and put words in my mouth about how I feel about them.” Julian sneered as he took another step towards her.

“Nobody who tries to hurt them is welcome here. And you, you are hurting them.” Julian paused. “Them,” he added for emphasis.

“I am simply trying to suggest that she tries to become her best self, for the benefit of both of you.” She tried replying, but she was clearly shaken. Julian was standing up tall, all six and a half feet (with boots) of him looming over her, his head narrowly avoiding the beam on the ceiling.

“They” Julian started, almost with a growl,”are already perfect. If you cared about them, you would know that too. I will not repeat myself.” Julian took one long stride over to the door, pointing down the stairs. “Get out of our home.”

She managed a huff before gathering up her bags and walking down the steps. Julian followed her closely, ushering her out as quickly as he could. She started to turn back, opening her mouth to say something, but Julian slammed the door and locked it before she could talk.

He turned around, frantically sweeping them up into his arms and holding them close against his chest. His breathing was no longer calm and collected, but ragged. His eyes were shiny with tears when he finally pulled away from them.

“Are, are you okay? Did she hurt you in any other way?” He was methodically running his hands over their face and arms while he spoke.

“She didn’t...I don’t know if I’m okay though.” Their voice was shaky from the adrenaline of the confrontation. Julian put one hand on the back of their head and another around their waist and pulled them close to him again.

“I had no idea, I’m, I’m so sorry. If, uh, If i would have known how she treated you. I would never have spent so much time talking to her.” His facial expression hardened for a moment as he pulled away and looked directly into their eyes. “Everything she said was a lie. Every word. I love you, I will always love you. This is the future I’ve always wanted with you. And….you don’t deserve to be treated like that. Not even, hm, especially, not by your mother” His expression softened again as he gently cupped their cheek in his hand.

“Thank you...I love you too Julian. I’m just sorry you had to hear all of that.” They leaned their head on his chest, wrapping their arms around his waist. He kissed the top of their head and stood there, holding them.

“She’s the one who needs to be sorry, not you, never you.” They walked over to the door, placing the protections back on it and then gently tugged on Julians hand to go up the steps.

“I appreciate you stepping in. I...I’d gotten so used to just taking it.” The two of them sat down on the edge of the bed.

“That’s what I’m here for. I do consider myself an expert in, ah, getting rude old ladies to vacate the premises.” They couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m telling Mazelinka you said that~” Julian turned bright red before cracking up in a smile.

“I’ll just say it explains why I was never able to get her to leave.” He walked over to the stove, putting the kettle on. “If you want to talk about your past with her, erm, now that she’s gone. I want to listen. You, er, you don’t have to though. I’ll make tea no matter what.”

“I’d like that.” They said, laying back on the bed, smiling gently to themself about how lucky they were to have him.

#julian #mine #abuse #emotional abuse #misgendering #and before ANYONE jumps down my throat that theres no transphobia in vesuvia we have No idea where MC's mother is from so just leave it be #for the sake of letting someone deal with some emotions

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brawla · 6 years

Note

What was his childhood like with his brothers and a single mother, and how did he come out to them? Was he well received? How does it affect all his relationships in life, given the time period?

GH okay i can talk in depth about this so its going under a cut. warnin for talk abt dysphoria, blasphemy (only kind of vaguely referred to), vague implications of nonphysical abuse and potential misgendering/transphobia/etc

so like… he was born a fraternal twin which wasnt so shocking to the family dynamic bc there was already a pair of twins But after having a total of 9 kids and One of them being born biologically female you kinda fixate on that yknow? so. elliot was most definitely Pegged to be the odd one out from the start but he kinda never really was. he played in the same way that his brothers played and loved getting dirty and being a general nuisance and he was, in essence, already One Of The Boys by like age 4. i should note also his oldest brother is 10 years older and most of them have like a ½ y age difference

inserting this bit right here to clarify the dog incident happened when he was 6 and four of them were playing in a dry canal n there were wild dogs hiding in the underpass (and up until then hed only known dogs as nice creatures) so he goes to pet em yadda yadda arms and legs get fucked up real bad. forearms are still wicked sensitive and scarred up but his knees recovered merely because he ran. they didnt have money for hospital bills so he was kinda useless for a while though

so anyway. despite her child obviously being a “““tomboy”““ she still attempted to force him into frilly dresses and do his hair all nice and when he was Really young he didnt super care but eventually noticed the difference in how his mom allowed his brothers to behave vs how she allowed him to behave and it upset him??? and granted this was more when he was like 8 or 9 and it was less “elli go play” and more “elli help me with dinner” even though she often didnt include anybody else in that request. so he starts cutting his own hair and disobeying openly and gets kinda mean because of it (thus his inclusion in being a Town Terror with the other brothers) uhh

they fought a Lot as kids bc margaret wasnt the Best at keeping them in line especially when shed get more concerned with sleeping with other men/going out for the nice bc once chase (oldest) was old enough to technically be in charge shed just kinda Leave sometimes an pray they didnt set the house on fire. because of that it was “im trapped in a house with all my brothers lets wrestle and scream until the neighbors call the cops on us because somebody might be dying” but at the end of the day they still had that Sibling Bond that rose above anything else

moving back onto the Trans Narrative: he realizes somethings up mid/end of middle school and hes not sure how to put it into words but he doesnt Feel Good anymore. doesnt like hearing his deadname or being the singular “girl” of the family. his twin, owen, is like, his first Go To for comfort and owen doesnt know either but he doesnt really Care. one time he tries to tell his mom but she waves him off and tells him never to bring it up again and… he Doesnt. goes through his first couple years of high school horrifically depressed and just barely passing year to year if Even passing until the very beginning of junior year he just Stops going. owen and some of the more fraternal of his brothers, when older, are kinda the only thing that keeps him grounded and ultimately he feels Useless ages 16 to 18

spy is his first contact bc he knows his mom who kinda just laments about how useless this kid who used to be so excited to play baseball with his brothers and run around and race freely is all of the sudden, please make him stop. and spys reluctant but also Guilty and has him flown out to nm for various hit and run jobs and elliot doesnt really realize what hes been thrust into at first but it gets to a point where doing Anything (even Crime) feels so good he doesnt care. inducted officially into the team when hes 19 or 20 and also has his name legally changed within that time period (jeremy is his “formal” name his mom insisted upon when he informed her this was a thing that was happening and she couldnt do anything about it, but if addressed by his actual name hed much rather hear elliot except in Official or as previously stated, formal, settings). voila The Scout is born

he technically comes out to the family when hes like 18/19 and already living out of home and he comes back to visit for a gathering where a lot of people are there includin some of his brothers’ dads. and nobody really knows what to do (mom im trans and also stronger than you so dont try any shit) bc most of them are religious and all of the boys were raised christian even if they were just going to church for the sake of going to church. and like… over time they adapt… margaret pulls the whole “this is all my fault my babys going to hell” thing for a while and makes it about her and some of his brothers do the same (william, the second oldest and michael, one of the other twins are the only two who are like “absolutely not youre disowned never speak to me again” and disallow their kids from seeing him EVEN THOUGH his nieces and nephews love him the Most) but eventually they kinda Get It. and dont Agree with it but cant bear to just leave their baby brother behind. so. its like. they fuck up the pronouns a lot but still Vaguely try. he doesnt talk to them a lot and wishes honestly hed never said anything and just moved out and lived stealth (hes stealth in tfi). he sends money home bc despite all his mom did and said to him bc deep down he still cares but. yknow. he avoids them if he can

SORRY THAT GOT LONG onto other tidbits

he never did baseball in school but played recreationally with the boys every time he got the opportunity to but he did run track when he got to eighth grade/high school and was really fantastic at it. hed run and began exercising initially as a way to beat his brothers but his mom makes some off-handed comment about how its good hes finally doing that, he could bear to lose somea that chub, nobody likes a fat girl (hes 12!) and is like Ah. and hes less self conscious about his weight now bc hes accepted the fact most of his weight is muscle and hes naturally curvy partly bc hes pretty and partly bc hes a runner. hes very very secure in himself and his identity even if he cant just tell people hes trans

he probably wouldve continued religiously if he hadnt been told by multiple sources that the “behaviors” he engaged in would upset god and get him banished to hell for life so he stopped going to church when he moved. of course, god only confirming he was his gift to the earth made him (silently) rub it in his familys face and he stopped uhh. believing in what was taught at churches simply bc he was convinced hed met god and proved all of them wrong? anyway

at the age and place he is he tends not to make lasting relationships with many people, at least romantically, because hes positive one of these days hell move to a place people dont know him and hell have had surgery and suddenly fit in with the cis and be able to settle down then. god knows he has the money for it; but for where hes at he tends not to care, not to tell anybody, n probably hasnt uhhh yknow Bonked for several years which is whatever he lives. He Lives. i think thats all i have to say on this IM SO SORRY but. this ask is very important to me

#Anonymous #➫ＰＯＰＱＵＩＺ！| ASK ♕#➫ＫＩＮＤＯＦＡＢＩＧＤＥＡＬ．| MUSE ♕#➫ＯＨ，ＷＥＤＯＮＥＡＬＲＥＡＤＹ？| OOC ♕#[ THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK i think about trans scout every day of my fucking life ]#[ i could probably have put this into better words if i looked back and found my hc threads on twitter but this covers essentially -#- all of the bases So ]

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unicornninjabitch · 6 years

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Me, sliding in with a slushee: sup I’m sad my dudes

Followers: we know and your poor attempts at humor aren’t a funny or good coping mechanism so just get on with it

Me, slurping my slushee: alright then I’ll ramble for a little bit

So I think I’ve lost weight recently, which I’m not super shocked by cause I just don’t eat alot and without someone asking me if I wanna get food I can easily forget to eat for like days at a time, plus I just tend to lose/gain a few pounds pretty easy. I just generally have a small appetite and I don’t really like eating by myself. I’ve pretty much always had issues with my body and weight and eating and food and stuff, I mean since I was a kid I’ve had troubles with this shit and I still do but it’s different now. When I was younger I just wanted to be “pretty” and get attention from people and have people see me as desirable/lovable/fuckable cause that would give me worth and the the only way to get those things was to get skinnier and be more attractive. Now I don’t think that way and I don’t put all my worth into other people’s views of me, but there’s other parts of me that still desperately crave for a flat tummy and a thigh gap and my collar bones to poke out and to just e small. Logically I know that’s almost impossible for me and it would be insanely unhealthy for me to be that thin, but there’s still parts of me that would kill for it. Plus I naturally have a smaller waist and its much more noticeable when I lose weight cause of how I hold fat I guess, so I have this huge like constant internal fight where it’s like Skinny vs Less Girly Figure and it’s kinda exhausting. I mean I really don’t want to constantly hate my body and I wish I could just be okay with what I have, but I’m not. For fucks sake I got to the point where now I don’t like even being near scales like I know if a scale says a number I don’t like I’ll feel like I’m not allowed to eat or I’m disgusting. And logically I know I’m not as big as I think I am like I know at most I’m kinda chubby, but another part of my brain only sees myself as some weirdly shaped baby whale who shouldn’t be allowed to eat because it needs to be smaller. Like as a whole once I came out as trans I kinda became more okay with my body weight wise, but every so often I’ll lose/gain weight and notice it in the mirror and have my Skinny vs Less Girly Figure and I just wish it would stop. I just wish there were one day where I could look in a mirror and say, “Hey I don’t hate who’s looking back at me”, but I can’t right now and I don’t know when I’ll be able to. I’m scared I’ll never be able to. I mean the idea of getting weighed at the doctors gives me so much fucking anxiety and makes me so uncomfortable. Like I would ask that they didn’t say it out loud and I look anywhere except the numbers cause I know no matter what it says if I don’t suddenly and magically like my body then I will 100% fall back into unhealthy patterns and I mean back in freshman year of high school I got like obsessed with it. I weighed myself almost everyday and I refused to eat more than x amount of calories and I let it basically consume me and dictated every part of my life. Don’t get me wrong I’m still overly critical of my body and the food I eat, I don’t think I’ll ever really love my body, I still have a bad relationship with food (if that even makes sense), and I still care way too much about my weight, but I do try to be better.

Also I’ve said before going from where everyone called me Alex to home where very few people even know I’m trans has been super hard on me and yeah that shit hasn’t gotten easier. Though I’ve kinda gotten used to it. Like I know I can’t be sad all day everyday cause of being deadnamed and misgendered all the time, but the getting used to it bothers me alot. Like hearing my deadname/deadnaming myself or whatever and it makes me uncomfortable, but it’s like I’m getting a resistance to it which for some reason makes me feel like I’m some how faking everything and it doesn’t help when I feel dysphoric or whatever. Like somedays I half regret coming out just because like I mean t and surgery-and fuck just legally changing my name seem so far away so like what’s the point, you know? Like it feels like no one will ever see me as a guy and some days it’s hard for me to see me as a guy so why the fuck do I bother? Why couldn’t I just get comfortable in the very back of the closet and just stay put? I mean it feels like coming out and all the anxiety that came with it was for nothing. Maybe it’s just that I’m still feeling some kinda way about how coming out went and how my mom still calls me her daughter or whatever, but I mean it all feels like it was pointless. I mean it feels like I’m on my way to just being a statistic and I wish I didn’t feel that way- god I wish I didn’t feel that way, but I do. It feels like in a few years I’m just gonna be a number about suicides or something. And there are some days/nights where if I could muster up the willpower to stand up I’d go back to cutting up my wrist, but I’m either that depressed or that tired from trying to convince myself that things will eventually somehow be okay that I don’t and I hate that my depression is what keeps me from going back to cutting myself. I really, really, really fucking wish I weren’t this sad and I wish I could wave a wand and be okay, but I can’t.

And my dysphoria has been just generally awful lately in like a bunch of ways. There’s the constant reminder in my chest and pants that’s slowly been driving me insane and a growing rate and there’s thinking I’m only allowed to date bi/pan people but at the same time feeling like I’m not man enough for anyone and there’s stupid shit that almost always makes me feel like “hey maybe mom was right maybe this is just a phase”. Which is fucking ridiculous cause I tried to wait it out like 3 different times and it never goes away and I mean now the idea of ever wearing a bra/dress makes me want to like hide under my bed or something. I know this isn’t a phase or me trying to be a *~special snowflake~* so how come I always go back to thinking that. Like my mom calling me my deadname or her daughter, obviously I got to grow thicker skin cause I can’t be in a constant state of like one foot off the room, but because I’m getting used to it and it’s taking longer for it to bother me I feel like I’m now faking shit. And I know it’s just me trying to protect myself, but it still bothers me I guess. I mean my mom’s reaction really fucked me up. Like instead of coming out on insta/snap I just deleted them and started new ones. I went back to my old therapist and I’m not even out to her cause I’m so scared of her reacting like my mom and I get scared literally everyone ever will react like my mom. I mean Thanksgiving I avoided my sister and yelled over her because I was so scared that my dad’s family would like yell at me or something and that would make my brothers/dad/step mom be like “Oh!! Yeah!! We were dumb you ARE just a silly little girl” and I couldn’t handle that. And idk a part of me wishes I was angrier at her or something, but another part says I should’ve saw this coming cause when I first started questioning my gender I brought it up to her cause I used to tell my mom everything and she seemed mad that I even thought I maybe wasn’t cis.

I don’t know I feel like I repeat myself in these a lot, but I don’t really know I was just feeling really sad and had to get some shit out I guess

#personal #tw suicidal thoughts #tw cutting #tw dysphoria #tw eating problems #tw weight problems #tw interalized transphobia #maybe probably #honestly at this point all my ramblings are only good for the self depricating humor before the read more #but fun fact jokes about sad shit is a huge no no #dont get me wrong i know joking about dropping out isnt great #but if i get the first joke no one else does #so like my mom should let me have that #right?#idk im tired and rambling now #but yeah i present yall my issues #and tonight i apperently dont know how to stfu so sorry

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 4 years

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Royal Growing Pains - Chapter Seven

Warnings: Homophobia, transphobia, misgendering, sympathetic Deceit

Royal Growing Pains Tag

They continued for about half an hour, Remy just humming and writing things down and muttering to himself, and Roman just thinking. Thinking about how he would finally get to look and feel like a man. Thinking about how he’d be able to go by Roman and have no one question it. Thinking about how he’d get to medically transition, at least with top surgery, because he knew he wanted that for himself.

...Thinking about how his family would react when they saw what the Byrons did. Thinking about how furious his mother would be. Thinking about how glacial his father’s reaction to Roman would be. Thinking about Remus. Would Remus be allowed to visit him? Or would his parents cut him off?

He knew the second option was the far more likely one. And if Remus ever snuck out to see Roman and just hang out for a few hours, and he got caught, Remus might wind up in a situation painfully similar to Roman’s: stuck with a wife who would keep him from being able to leave the castle at any time without either dragging her along or telling her where he would go. And of course, it didn’t matter that Remus was asexual, and demiromantic, he’d get someone he was doomed to never know or trust as a spouse.

Roman couldn’t breathe. Tears were falling down his face and he was trying to suck in a breath but it wasn’t working, and he was feeling impossibly light-headed because of it.

In an instant, Remy was in front of him, pulling the binder off of Roman, and holding him close, shushing him gently. “Hey, Roman, it’s okay, it’s okay, breathe for me? In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Can you do that for me? Just breathe. It’s gonna be okay. I promise.”

Roman sobbed into Remy’s shoulder, his own arms up trying to cover his chest, so he didn’t have to remember it was there, so that he couldn’t see the two heaving mounds of flesh when he tried to suck in air. It wasn’t working. He was too aware of his body, too obsessed over the fact that he wouldn’t get to see his brother, too tired to do anything except bawl his eyes out in front of a virtual stranger.

Remy guided him to the floor, and slowly helped rehook Roman’s bra on him and pull his button up over his arms, doing the buttons with expert efficiency. Roman just continued to cry, sobs tapering off some now that the panic of not being able to breathe was gone, but he still couldn’t fight the hollow feeling of being truly and utterly alone, alienated from his entire family.

“Babes, tell me what you need,” Remy said. “If you can. Do you need water? A snack? Comfort? What has you panicking?”

“I’m...I’m...I’m...” Roman took a deep breath. “I’m going to be alone for the rest of my life. I won’t be able to see my brother ever again once my parents realize what’s going on.”

“Not true, babes,” Remy said. “If nothing else, Damien can kidnap your brother and bring him over here if you really want to talk to him. But your brother is his own person. No matter what your mother threatens, or what your father says, no one can stop him from coming here if that’s what he wants.”

“They can, though,” Roman whimpered. “They could kick him out, and I don’t want him taking that risk.”

Remy sighed through his nose. “Listen, babes, we can argue all night over whether or not you’ll get to see your brother again. But at the end of the day, I don’t think that’s going to make you feel better, is it?”

“No,” Roman breathed.

“How about this,” Remy said, patting Roman’s knee. “I go find someone who knows you better than I do, and knows about you being trans, and you can talk with them?”

“Sure,” Roman said. “Do you...do you need more measurements, though?”

“Hm? Oh, no,” Remy said. “I already double-checked everything. I just really like having a captive audience, and I’ve been known to talk for hours at a time, so I could keep you here the rest of the night, but I don’t think that would be the best idea.”

Roman sniffled and laughed weakly. “Okay,” he said.

“I’ll go grab someone better equipped for this than me,” Remy said.

Roman grabbed Remy’s hand as he stood up. “Can you get Damien?” he pleaded.

Remy looked briefly surprised, before he nodded. “Yeah, of course, babes,” he assured. “Deep breaths, okay? I’ll be right back. Play on your phone, if you have it. Keep yourself occupied, and try not to think too much.”

Roman felt at his pockets before he realized his mother must still have his phone. “I’ll have to ask my mother for my phone tomorrow morning,” Roman said miserably. “She confiscated it after my coming out.”

Remy growled. “She’s certainly not endearing herself to anyone in this castle, that’s for sure. Hang tight, babes. I’ll be right back.”

Roman nodded and when Remy left, Roman tucked his knees under his chin and wrapped his legs in a vice grip. He was still crying, but he felt hollow rather than impossibly sad, now. The worst of the storm had passed, then. Unless this was actually the eye of the hurricane, in which case Roman had better grab a box of tissues.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, just staring off into space. The sun had set during dinner, so the room was bathed in the warm, albeit faint glow of artificial lighting, but the moon wasn’t within Roman’s sightline even if he looked out the window.

The door opened softly and Remy gestured inside. Damien walked through, murmured a quiet, “Thank you,” and Remy closed the door to give them privacy as Damien approached Roman.

Roman looked up as Damien approached, and sat down next to Roman, wrapping an arm around Roman’s shoulders. “I don’t want to be alone,” Roman rasped. “I don’t want to be here the rest of my life and never see Remus again.”

“My dear, I would never allow that to happen,” Damien assured.

“You can’t promise that!” Roman exclaimed. “You can’t promise that Remus will be able to see me! You don’t know my parents! They would cut me off from the family, never speak to me again, and if Remus was caught communicating with me he would...he would...he would meet the same fate they planned for me. Hetero ever after.”

Damien gave Roman’s shoulders a squeeze and murmured, “My dear, I could request for him to come over for conferences. I could invite him to dinners. To ceremonies. They couldn’t refuse him coming over to those events without risking me raising hell. And I would raise hell, my dear, purely because you love your brother and want to see him.”

Roman swiped at his eyes and whimpered. “I don’t want to be here,” he whispered. “You’re very sweet, Your Highness, and I’m pleased to be your friend, but I would rather be at home, somewhat miserable being in the closet around my parents. I don’t want to be forcibly shoved back into the closet by my mother and have her lock the door and throw away the key. It just...Your Highness—Damien...I just...I know that in a week I will get my way. And they can’t take back the marriage. But...knowing what I have to go through to get to the end of this week, and knowing that the consequences will last much longer than that...it hurts.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Damien said. “I know you can get through it, my dear prince. I know it will hurt like hell, but you can get through it. Because you’ve come this far. I don’t want you coming this far just to give up.”

Roman’s chest ached. “I can’t do it, Damien,” Roman said softly. “I can’t.”

“You can,” Damien said. “However...that does not necessarily mean you should. You shouldn’t have to hide who you are. Right now, though, it is necessary as a safety measure. But believe me, Roman, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you will get to see your brother. Whether you are out of the closet or not.”

Roman’s chest still ached, but his heart did warm some at that declaration. A cute guy reassuring him that everything would be all right, and that he would get what he wanted in the end, even if there was a while to go before he could get to it...he felt like he was in a romance novel. “I hope you realize you sound like the male protagonist in a stereotypical rom-com,” Roman said to Damien.

Damien laughed, his nose wrinkling as he tried to stifle his giggles, putting a hand to his mouth. “Well, I am telling the truth,” he said when the giggles subsided. “Most men in romantic comedies are gentlemen in the traditional sense by the end of the movie. And I may get into mischief, my dear, but I am nothing if not a gentleman.”

“A gentleman who just so happens to get into paint wars,” Roman giggled.

“Precisely,” Damien said with a soft smile.

Roman shook his head and laughed softly, so softly he could barely hear it himself. “Thank you,” he said. “That made me feel just a little bit better.”

“I’m happy to help,” Damien said, giving Roman’s shoulder another squeeze. “You do all the hard work, though. All I have to do is remember to use she and Veronica around your mother. You’re the one who has to bear the pain that brings.”

Roman sighed. “Yeah. And it’s not a light sting, either. It’s a dagger through the heart. Because it reminds me that for every person I know who accepts me, there are at least two more who won’t. And two of the people who matter the most are among those who would prefer me dead to being a man.”

Damien shook his head, and Roman was surprised to see unshed tears in his eyes. “The sheer amount of times you must have felt that pain, by my own hands...it’s unacceptable.”

“It’s okay, Damien—”

“—No, Roman, it’s not,” Damien said, cutting Roman off. “I know that using your deadname is a safety precaution for the next week. I am referring to when your mother brought you over here.”

“You didn’t know any better,” Roman said. “There’s no way you could have known.”

“My knowing or not is not what matters,” Damien said. “What matters is whether you were hurt or not. And you were hurt. I’m not trying to make this about me, but I can’t help but feel upset knowing that I hurt you the same way your parents have.”

Roman looked at Damien, really looked at him, and noticed the slight trembling in his body, the stiffness in his posture, the unshed tears in his eyes continuing to build up until he blinked and they started to fall. Roman swiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb. “But that’s the thing, Damien. You didn’t hurt me the same way my parents did. When I came out to you, it was like a switch was flipped and you instantly started using my real name and pronouns. You may have tripped up, but you made the effort. Something that my parents never did. You may have inadvertently hurt me this morning, but when I told you what was going on you stopped. The only reason you do it now is because the risk of injury is greater if you don’t do it around my mother, and even then you simply try to avoid using my name, rather than simply deadnaming and misgendering me, and expecting me to grin and bear it. You didn’t hurt me the way they did. You never would.”

Damien laughed and Roman sent him a quizzical look. “We’re both miserable right now,” Damien explained. “And I predicted that the both of us would be miserable for at least the first day, if not for longer, although it was for an entirely different reason. I thought we’d be miserable over the marriage, not over the fact that your parents are trying to kill you slowly.”

Roman laughed. “Oh, yeah. I could imagine that. Both of us sulking in our rooms that night, you because you’re forced to marry a woman you can’t love, myself because I’m forced to marry a man who doesn’t know who I truly am.”

Damien offered Roman a weak grin. “I’d say this is a better way to be miserable, however.”

“True,” Roman laughed. “Oh, and I will warn you for tomorrow morning...I can’t dance. Like, at all. I constantly trip over my feet and step on other people’s toes. The dance lessons we both know our mothers will force us to go to, in order to decide what we want our first dance to be, are not for you, but for me.”

“That’s quite all right, my dear,” Damien said with a soft smile. “I don’t mind if my toes get stepped on a couple times. It would mean that you’re safe, and that is enough to get me through any pain from crushed toes.”

Roman offered Damien a smile. “If I didn’t know any better, Damien, I would say that you like me.”

“Oh, shut up,” Damien said. “You can make gay jokes all you like when we’re alone, but that does not mean I’ll humor you with them. You will have to be enough to amuse yourself by.”

Roman heaved a put-upon sigh. “Oh, all right,” he groaned. “But if I see you crack a smile at one of those jokes, I will be calling you out on it.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Damien said with a smile. “Do you feel better?”

“Marginally,” Roman said. “Laughter is good for the soul, and I think I would be able to sleep tonight without crying myself into exhaustion first.”

“Then shall I escort you to bed?” Damien asked. “You have been up here for a while, and I don’t know when you fall asleep normally...”

“I generally sleep around midnight, in my time zone, without exception,” Roman said. “I’ve never had to travel halfway around the world before, so I haven’t struggled with time zones there. But I will say that I believe our kingdoms are in the same time zone, and if I do fall asleep before midnight, it would be due to sheer simple exhaustion.”

Damien offered Roman a rueful smile. “Unfortunately, I believe that you’ll be asleep the moment your head hits the pillow tonight.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Roman sighed, before stretching with a yawn.

Damien stood and helped Roman to his feet, grabbing Roman's suit coat. “For what it’s worth, my dear, I’m very happy that you requested I be the one Remy fetch for you.”

“He told you that?” Roman asked, cheeks flaring red.

“He was a little panicked about your well-being, and therefore I was able to get a little more information out of him than usual. Had he gotten anyone else, I’m sure he wouldn’t have divulged even why you were panicking, but he must have assumed that I would understand why you were so distressed if you asked after me,” Damien said. “Don’t blame him.”

“I might still call him a snitch,” Roman said.

Damien laughed and walked over to the door, Roman trailing behind him. Remy was on the other side of the door, waiting. “The room is all yours, Remy,” Damien said. “Thank you for fetching me.”

“Next time, though, don’t tell him I asked for him specifically, snitch,” Roman said with a weak smile.

Remy offered Roman a smirk. “I make no promises, babes. Your hubby here might be flattered that you’re asking after him.”

Roman’s cheeks flared red again. “Listen, it’s slightly embarrassing, all right? I just wanted someone who I knew wouldn’t judge.”

Remy shook his head as he walked in the room. “That’s not embarrassing, babes, but I’ll keep quiet, I suppose.”

“Thank you,” Roman said.

Damien led him down the halls back to his guest room. Roman thought he was starting to get a handle on where everything was, at least somewhat. Even if he didn’t know what half of the rooms were for, he could identify which hallway they were in and how deep inside the castle they were.

When they stopped outside Roman’s room, Roman was reluctant to face Damien to send him off. He took a shaky breath. He would be okay on his own, he knew that. And Damien would need his sleep as well. Especially if Roman would be dancing with him tomorrow morning, like he suspected his mother had planned. “Thank you, again,” Roman said. “I suppose it’s somewhat silly to freak out over my brother—”

“—Not silly at all,” Damien assured him. “You were worried about losing someone you love. That is always distressing, without fail. You have nothing to be ashamed of for this.”

Roman offered Damien a soft smile. “You’re too kind,” he said.

“On the contrary, my dear, I believe you are too lenient in your expectations,” Damien said.

“Well, considering my family, are you surprised?” Roman teased.

Damien shook his head with a sigh. “No, unfortunately, I’m not.” He leaned down slightly and kissed Roman’s forehead. “Rest well, Roman. You have a full day tomorrow, my dear.”

Roman dazedly watched Damien walk away, too stunned by the forehead kiss to do anything except stare after him for a good two minutes. By the time Roman came back to himself, Damien had rounded a corner and was out of sight. He blinked rapidly, turning to the door and walking into the guest room, closing the door with a shaky breath. What about that made him so breathless, he didn’t know. Was it just the fact that a cute boy was giving him attention? That was probably it. Not Damien himself, per se. Just his looks. That didn’t make the butterflies go away, but it did soothe his brain into switching topics, namely getting to sleep. As Roman got ready for bed, he contemplated how early tomorrow morning he’d be woken up, and how long he could go without encountering his mother. He knew it wouldn’t be that long, but, hey. A man could dream, right?

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