#somewhere it went from 'queer kids; read queer books!!' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

25% of US internet users with an annual income of $80-100K use Tumblr.

#somewhere it went from 'queer kids; read queer books!!'

forggywrites · 5 months

Text

ATSV characters finding out you’re being harassed at school/work for being queer.

Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Miles Morales, and Hobie Brown. all x gn reader who is queer/LGBTQ+ in some way.

Got the idea of some of the boys comforting/defending you from assholes in your life. Reader is queer coded and the harassment is based off of that. So please read with caution and stop when you need.

CW: queerphobia, homophobia, harassment, cursing, slurs, violence,

———————

Miguel O’Hara

When he found out that people at your work were giving you shit for being queer, he was pissed.

It’s 2099 god damnit, how are people STILL homophobic.

“You should have told me, I can talk some sense into those assholes.”

Even if you said you could handle it he would not take it.

Goes to your workplace and lodges a complaint about the coworker(s).

If HR gives some bullshit about not being able to do anything, he tells them they fucked up big time.

Starts investigating every little thing about the company while helping you look for a new job, he’s taking the place down and you’re going somewhere better.

Man has power, so he gets a LOT of dirt on your harassers and the shitty management.

Once you get a new job all the info gets leaked to the press and their rightful legal organizations.

Company goes under not long after.

All because they refused to be decent human beings.

Also he takes you out for a tasty meal as celebration.

———————

Miles Morales

He’s super supportive of you, and he knows you can handle yourself.

But when he’s walking down the hall and hears someone call you a slur, that’s when he gets mad.

Tells the kid to fuck off and drags you to his dorm, not caring that you both have class.

When you ask Miles what’s up he give you a ‘seriously?’ look.

”Is that the first time that’s happened?”

When you tell him no he just about flips out.

”What do you mean ‘no’? Why is no one doing anything about it?”

You explain that the guy had been ‘punished’ multiple times but that only made him madder and so he kept doing it.

Miles starts fuming.

He starts to do research on the kid, and when he finds out that he likes Spider-man he knows exactly what to do.

He starts to make changes in his regular life and his Spider-man life.

Tells people to cut the bullshit at school and starts opely supporting the LGBTQ+ community as Spider-man.

Goes to pride events in his suit, makes posts on social media in support, and maybe even adds a small rainbow pin to his suit.

If the kid doesn't cut it out he'll teach them a lesson.

———————

Hobie Brown

He went into your workplace one day to visit you during your shift.

He heard your coworker make a homophobic remark.

Descrimination is a no no in his book (obviously)

When your shift is over he confronts the person and tells them to cut the shit.

If they somehow didn't find him intimidating enough he looks into their life a little.

Finds out their info and keeps an eye on them.

Does everything he can to absolutely ruin their life.

While Hobie isn’t against getting his hands dirty he also has friends who have way lower standards with causing pain.

Don’t question it if one day your coworker shows up with a black eye.

Or never shows up again.

He’ll take you out for a fun night and reminds you that you deserve love and being queer doesn’t change that.

89 notes · View notes

xiaq · 1 year

Note

What was your relationship with HP in your childhood and what did it mean to you?

Warning: long answer is long.

I read the first HP book when I was 10. It felt like coming home. I was a deeply awkward, anxious kid dealing with bullying at school. I felt wrong and out of place and like everyone except for me had a manual for how they were supposed to navigate life; without the manual I was certain I would never catch up.

Books were a fucking haven. And THIS book. This book was about a kid that I empathized with so much. Except he's bullied and feels out of place because he IS out place. He's meant to be somewhere better, with people like him, who (for the most part) treat him kindly and with respect. And suddenly he's able to make friends and excel at his studies, and he settles into this fantastic world where he fits, and he's bright and likable and he has a purpose. It was just. God, it was everything I wanted for myself. AND there was magic and a train and a cool castle.

I think the first two books were already out when I started reading and I read the rest as they were released (re-reading them all multiple times in between). The friends I did manage to make also adored the books. I went from "playing Harry Potter" on the playground to writing fanfic to going to midnight book releases and meeting up with friends to see the movies as they started coming out. The final book came out shortly after I started high school, and the final movie came out when I was in college. I went to that midnight showing with a good portion of my friends and we all cried like babies at the end. Because it was over. This thing that had sustained us for so long. This thing that marked our childhoods.

You have to understand that Harry Potter-related expectation was a constant for the majority of my life. Since I was in elementary school there was always a new book to look forward to every year or so. And when the book series was completed, there was the next movie to look forward to. And then it was over (and with such an unsatisfying epilogue). That's when I really got involved in fandom (outside the fic I wrote amongst friends in a the group journal we kept and passed back and forth during studyhall, ofc). And fandom was the most accepting, glorious, place for an anxious queer kid just starting to come out of her shell as college afforded her the freedom to realize that maybe the very narrow (private Christian school k-12) concept of normalcy she'd been afforded until that point wasn't entirely accurate. And it continued to be glorious. I went to cons and got merch and put my House in my online dating profile and 3D printed custom HP cookie cutters and joked about having a HP themed wedding some day and my friends and I loved our nerdy little world that made us happy. Until Joanne ruined it.

And I'm honestly not trying to be dramatic, but when something has been so intrinsic to your life and your social circle and even, to an extent, part of your identify, it's fucking devastating when you find out the creator of that thing is a bigot and actively using her platform to target people you love. I stopped supporting her (buying books/movies/merch etc.) a couple years back, and I was content in embracing the concept of Death of the Author (or, as I've previously termed it, "we've killed the author and are now rifling through her stuff to keep the good bits and throw out the bad"). But now, in light of her continued escalations and the recent TV series announcement, and the conversations I've been having with friends (particularly Jewish and trans friends), I do mean that the very concept of Harry Potter is ruined for me. My, now decades, of nostalgia just...aren't enough to supersede what feels like an irresponsible attachment. Before, I wanted HP's social presence to live on in spite of and without JK Rowling. Now, it's becoming more and more apparent that the entertainment industry is going to squeeze as much money out of the HP world as possible which will, by extension, continue to give her a platform and money with which to actively support her shitty dogma.

So. Here I am, too sad to pick up my HP books for my annual summer re-read, or start the new fic a writer I love has just posted or open the document to work on my own HP fic. Which is not at all a condemnation of folks in fandom who ARE able to keep reading and creating and loving the world while thumbing their nose at her. I just can't right now.

So I'm stepping back and blocking the tags and ignoring the show and trying to let other worlds consume me.

Anyway. That's what it meant to me. Sorry for the tiny violin moment but your ask made me sit down and confront the fact that I'm dealing with an extremely weird sort of grief I haven't ever encountered before.

#I'll update SSS tomorrow and put it on haitus #sorry for folks following me for HP stuff #I'd love to come back some day #the tiniest of violins #jk rowling #harry potter #sigh

245 notes · View notes

neonponders · 1 year

Text

For @billyhargrovebingo 📚

~ read on ao3 ~

C2 - Bookstore AU

• • •

Billy had meant to buy a new car. His old blue beauty was still going strong, even if she creaked through left turns and the air conditioning went out every summer.

The price was right, and Billy might not know a lot about real estate, but he knew books. And the whole location, location, location thing.

There just wasn’t a bookstore where both kids and adults could be taken seriously, ie. comic books as well as the New York Times’ hoity toity favorites list. Billy had distinct, annoyed memories of having to travel across his California home town just to get the stack of Spider-Man and novels that he wanted. Not to mention the amount of times he’d had to listen to his stepsister complain about walking into a comic book store like the grown ass men had never seen a woman before...

So he bought it.

It was a real fixer-upper, but he bought it, and that felt great. The ground floor was the store, and he could renovated the second floor too, but he didn’t have the money to rent an apartment and get a business off the ground.

So he lived on the second floor’s barebones floors while the electrical and plumbing got sorted out. The summer heat had certainly sweetened the price on this place - air conditioning units were a small fortune - but as they say, some like it hot, and Billy never shied away from heat.

That gave him an idea. Aside from his pillow and mattress right on the floor, the first thing to go into his new shop was the movie poster for Some Like it Hot. It went right onto the one finished wall of the place: a typical brick wall. Terrible for insulation, and Billy didn’t give one rat’s ass about it.

Slowly but surely, his money dripped into the repairs on the place. He collected more and more pictures for the walls, a whole stack of frames upstairs just waiting to be mounted. The place was going to be a real queer dump when he was through with it:

Plants everywhere. Pictures of men in drag for movies and stage. If things finally settled, he’d get a shop cat. Or a dog. The laziest geriatric the shelter had. A record player was a must. Between the books, ambiance, furry shopkeeper, and plants, if some stiff even noticed all the queer on the walls, then Billy could keep a sheet of gold star stickers for his ass to get kissed on their way out.

That was the dream. Dreaming is easier than building.

Maybe the heat did get to his head, because somewhere in July, Billy officially lost it. The floor of the upstairs wasn’t finished, meaning that he had to be very careful with his showers, or else create water damage in both his home and business. He was officially in debt, because goddamn books were expensive the longer her held onto them because the shop wasn’t ready yet. He was walking on unstable floorboards in his own home, so how the hell was he supposed to bring a hookup over to blow off some steam?

Welcome to my place. If you fall through my bookshop’s ceiling, you’re paying for it.

The final straw was a bug. Admittedly, Billy didn’t know what termites looked like, but a small bug crawling out of one of those goddamn boards just did him in. He ripped the floor up, throwing down shards and heavy boards of wood. Soon, he didn’t have a second floor at all. Just a staircase that didn’t even connect to a loft holding up a poor excuse for a kitchenette -

“Uh, hello?”

The short curl right at the top of Billy’s forehead stuck to his sweaty skin as he stood up straight, and looked into the fresh face of a tall guy with huge brown eyes and a crown of soft, glossy hair on his head. “What d’you need?” Billy said gruffly.

That cupid’s mouth gaped like a fish until he scrounged together, “I work next door at the ice cream shop. I heard the noise, I thought you were being robbed.”

That explained why the guy somehow didn’t sweat in July. Billy shamelessly opened his arms at his travesty of an investment. “Steal what?”

Those big doe eyes wandered, clearly looking for an answer. He pointed at the Marilyn Monroe poster. “Anything with Marilyn on it sells.”

“It’s a poster,” Billy clipped.

“A big one,” the guy corrected, stepping onto the staircase to touch the corner of the frame. “The kind that might’ve been in the theaters when the movie released. You’d be surprised how much movie nerds would pay for this.”

“Well that’s great. Really great. Will it pay for a new floor and ceiling? Otherwise Marilyn isn’t buying me shit.”

That closed the guy’s mouth and he preoccupied himself with reading over the names on the poster. Then from memory, he recited, “And why would a guy wanna marry another guy?”

“For security,” Billy huffed.

All at once, the ice cream man smiled at him. And...Billy should’ve invested in ice cream.

“The movie hasn’t aged well, but I always liked that joke. Sometimes Hollywood accidentally gets things right. So,” his shoes clapped the floor as he stepped off the stairs, “you need some fresh lumber. It’s good that you rage-ripped these up. If they were from old trees, they’d be sturdy, but these were cheap when they were put in.”

Billy cocked a brow at him. “You know construction?”

“My dad’s a contractor. Well, that’s the easy way of putting it. He’s a real snob about architecture and real estate.”

“Then why aren’t you working for him? Sounds like there’s real money there.”

“Because in my dad’s effort to make me a respectable man like him, he made me too much like him. We can’t exist in the same room together for more than fifteen minutes.”

Billy huffed a laugh and kicked a plank of wood out of his way. “Yeah. I get that.”

“Do you have power tools?”

“I have one drill and a spare battery.”

“I know a guy who can loan you saw horse and an electric saw. Hell, show him your lack of a ceiling, and he might just build it for you. He’s a retired guy who needs the chores. Just pay for the supplies and lunch, and he’s in.”

“I’m not interested in an old man breaking his leg for my pursuits. That’ll only make the property value go down further when I try and get rid of this place.

The guy put his hands on his hips and looked around, visibly thinking hard on something. “What about two losers who don’t have anything better to do?”

Billy smiled. “Who’d you have in mind?”

That’s how Billy met Robin Buckley. And Steve. His name was Steve.

Billy couldn’t be sure which was more frightening: a retired carpenter with rickety bones, or a lesbian with a power drill walking over the beams overhead. But the three of them got the floor reinstated that afternoon, and the following morning, Robin and Steve arrived with linoleum and caulk to finish and waterproof his floor.

Even more, Steve got the fire department and city to repair the fire escape in the alley between the bookshop and the ice cream parlor. He shrugged when Billy asked him about it. “Some things have to be built to code. Code name: Harrington. Are those fries?”

Billy smiled and slapped the fast food bag against his abdomen. Steve took it eagerly and stuffed four fries into his gullet. Billy couldn’t believe his luck at having one of the city’s precious heirs getting humbled in the ice cream shop next door.

Steve’s opening day gift to him was a movie projector. After hanging up a white sheet in the back of the shop, they played Some Like it Hot while Billy rang up the first purchases from his shelves.

And yet...even with money finally dripping back into his pockets, Billy looked forward to 4pm, when the ice cream shop closed and Steve and Robin strolled into his place with a carton of chocolate-chocolate chunk, and a gift collar and leash for the old German shepherd mutt waiting to be picked up that Friday.

As the movie said, “It’s not how long you wait, it’s who you’re waiting for.”

#harringrove #book shop!au #neonponders #billyhargrovebingo #billy bingo #ficlet

19 notes · View notes

chloeseyeliner · 9 months

Text

on a different note (of course as regards the cmq-verse again, duh, i love being annoying about their bookworld) i have an example of (literally) judging a book by its cover.

i went out to a book fair with some people i hadn't seen in a long time about two weeks ago. i ended up buying nothing, because these books' prices were unreasonable (small town, monopoly, etc etc).

as i was searching for emma (which, you don't care, but i found somewhere else and way cheaper and with an amazing font- yes, i deeply adore certain fonts in books, lol- and it's my current read also idk it seems quite lgbt+ to me-) i came across i kissed shara wheeler at one of the shelves and, almost not having talked at all the whole evening, i immediately started rambling on and on about how it describes being queer in a very traditional, strictly religious school and community through the eyes of many different people, how it talks about gender and self-expression, how it shows different kinds of relationships with god and the lack of one thereof, how it gives us sapphic academic rivals to lovers, how it presents people of various backgrounds, how it puts emphasis on friendship and platonic love and (queer) community, how it shows us that the kid you see having the perfect grades at school isn't always who you think they are (i had to say that last one, because... personal reasons. anyway).

a minute or two after i finished this embarrassingly long rambling, earning a smile or two from these people, one of them is looking through the shelves, when she finds another cory of iksw, picks it up and, and i say that with true and utmost respect of and for people's different tastes and genre preference in pieces of literature in general, says, coaxing a snort out of the other person:

"i kissed shara wheeler? wow, that sound so freaking cringe, dude."

and it... hurt? i mean, apart from the fact that everything i said went from one ear and out of the other which i am used to but i really do not want anyone to think i am victimising myself here, i don't know. everyone is judgy of anything nowadays, that's what i mean. i have fallen into this trap multiple times myself, i am not going to play the part of the saint, but i think you know what i mean, if someone ever reads this, lol.

i hope all this makes sense.

#i have to stop treating tumblr like my personal diary sometimes #whatever #i kissed shara wheeler #casey mquinston #i hold a special place in my heart for this book but i really did not write all this to force my opinion or anything #iksw

7 notes · View notes

magicalyaku · 2 years

Photo

Finally the month of summer I've been waiting to have: Just sit back and read. That's all I've done. Or all I remember. I'm pretty sure I was kinda exhausted inbetween but I'm opting to ignore that.

Because I read so many gay boys the month prior, I started off with a YA fantasy adventure, The Song that moves the Sun by Anna Bright and it reminded me why I started reading gay boys in the first place. I have no patience for these girls! 8D Throughout the book I kept wondering "Is it just me or is it the book?" I'm not even sure why. One girl was smart after all, the other one overcame her trauma. Nice! But why do the two girls have to fall for the boys who happen to be two as well? I can see one pair, but why both? Also the pacing was terrible, especially towards the end. The chapters switched viewpoints each and were so short later on I had hardly time to adjust to the scene. How are you supposed to get emotionally invested when you don't even get a minute with these guys before being thrown somewhere else? I hate that in movies too. D: Also this:

He smells like the beach somehow, like sweat and boy.

(Emphasis as in original.) What. Who thought this would be a good thing to write? I'm aware that not every sweat smells bad and I assume not every boy does either. But sorry, that line just does not sound good! What is boy-smell anyway? Is there girl-smell too? (The one distinct smell that comes to mind is not a good one ...) They also cuddle a few chapters later after explicitely telling me that they washed their clothes but not themselves. Why would you tell me?! I don't want to knowww!! I don't think the book is a bad one. I just got frustrated. 8D

The next bunch was more fun: Icebreaker (R.L. Graziadei): Not quite what I expected but in a good way! 40 pages to the end I wondered whether they would really wrap it up or need another volume. Thinking about it now I would not mind a 2nd book. uAu Thanks a lot, Universe (Chad Lucas): The wildest Middle grade book I read so far! You know that when the first episode of an anime series is all nice and dandy and then there's that insane after-credits-scene? The beginning of this felt a little bit like that. And it just continued! And it was so nice. The Loophole (Kaz Kutub): I liked it. Felt a bit different from usual. Reggie was a handful and is was glorious. But f*** that "I thought about it for months but I'm upset with you because you cannot decide within three seconds"-Farouk. uAu Boyfriend Material (Alexis Hall): Good characters and that humour that actually reminded me of Earnest by Oscar Wilde (must be because both involve British nobility). 8D Looking forward to volume 2! (I read the German edition, so vol2 will be in January!) Der Heilige Fisch (Dia Lane): A detective novel by a German selfpublishing author with illustrations by Livanya. I bought the book at her artist alley table at Dokomi this year. :D I usually don't read mystery and I could never write any, so my respect to the author. A solid read, I'd say. uAu Small Town Pride (Phil Stamper): More Middle grade! Nice and sweet. I believe this would be a good read for parents as well, because the adults in this have just as much growing up to do as the kids and it'd probably provide a good insight into the perspective of a queer kid. A Little Bit Country (Brian D. Kennedy): I know nothing about country music and I would never have listenend to it by my own free will before but the nice thing about good books is how they can give you a reason to like something you never knew before, right? Not that I actually went and listened to single song but I did open my mind and will be benevolent when I ever come across one. uAub The book was solid and I liked how it all came together (and yes, I bought it for the cover). The Past and Other Things that Should Stay Buried (Shaun David Hutchinson): The Past was my SDH book of the month and it was that book about friendship I've been screaming to read these past months. That's why I feel a little bad I didn't like it as much as some of his other works. 8D But I did like July. Much like Jenny from A Complicated Love Story. They are probably not girls I would like to engage in real life but reading about them is so much better than these boring whiny emotional soft girls. /D I probably said it before, but I just like how Mr. Hutchinson wraps his serious thoughts in these weird ideas and just goes with them. Last was another one by SDH, The State of Us, which I borrowed from the library. I was hesistant about this because the “Red White & Royal Blue” comparison and such, but as you can figure I like the author's other books so I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I don't care about US politics so that might've made it easier for me to enjoy. It was far from groundbreaking, but I had fun. I also liked that Dean was on the ace spectrum. uAub

And ... I guess tumblr does do brainwashing after all. I just borrowed The Foxhole Court from the library. We'll be going to Seoul in a few days and it will be a very long flight, sooo ... uAu~ (I also have “A Far Wilder Magic” und “A Taste of Gold and Iron”.)

#yaku reads #august wrap up #small town pride #icebreaker #the loophole #the song that moves the sun #boyfriend material #thanks a lot universe #a little bit country #the state of us #the past and other things #der heilige fisch #books #queer books #queer lit #booklr #lgbtq books #this gets longer every time

40 notes · View notes

childishzombiejellyfish · 1 year

Text

Tagged by @comediakaidanovsky

Are you named after anyone? yeh, both my birthname and my chosen name (I do not consider the former a deadname, merely a “for special occasions” type name). My parents named all of their kids after book characters or historical people, and I went with the feeling and gave myself a name after a writer (it’s also a name belonging to a fictional character + genderqueer painter and sculptor -- it’s versatile)

When was the last time you cried? I cried watching lilo and stitch yesterday

Do you use sarcasm? I think I do, but not in a conventional sense. I simply am bad at modulating my tone of voice, so things don’t always come out as intended

What’s the first thing you notice about people? hair, I think. also height.

What’s your eye color? grey/blue

Scary movies or happy endings? stealing from comedia: i mean i wanna say neither, or somewhere inbetween. love a good scary movie, also love an earned happy ending, but definitely have a penchant for tragedies

Any special talents? Idk if it’s “special,” in the sense of rare, but I am a trained classical singer, and my friends tell me I have a wide range of niche knowledge on things

Where were you born? England (raised in Denmark)

What are your hobbies? reading, writing, movie watching and analysis, research (especially into queer histories), loooooong walks, singing, music composition, filming + video editing hmmm... also hoping to get back into some sports this year

Do you have any pets? used to have a family dog called Neo (which is very funny a name-choice in transgender hindsight)

What sports do you play/have played? football, badminton, swimming, judo, hockey, handball, briefly basketball, poledancing

How tall are you? about 175. shorter than my younger brothers, taller than my older brother hehe

Favorite subject in school? Any subject where the teacher and I got on, so at varying times english, history, danish, ancient history, german, music... it really depended on whether or not the given teacher at whatever school I was at fed into my hyperfixation tendencies (I realise that now, looking back)

Dream job? artist/historical researcher who makes enough to live like that 😂 tbh I realise the best work I ever did was volunteering at an LGBT+ charity and I am very bad at paid things, so idk how to reconcile that with needing to eat.... wish there was universal income, then I’d just want to help out youknow?

thank you for tagging me: anyone wanna do this, please tag me so I can see!

#me #personal #i am Very Tired today which translates into: my ability to interact isnt at its best #hence the lack of tagging #genuinely would like to know though

3 notes · View notes

salmonellaandcheese · 1 year

Text

Tag Game To Better Know You!

Tagged by the lovely and talented @lady--lisa (So sorry for taking so long! I didn't forget! I just couldn't figure out a way to copy all the questions easily on mobile)

If you saw the first version of this no u didnt

What book are you currently reading?

I'm halfway through Anne of Avolea by L.M Montgomery and a few chapters into the Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett. I really should read more, I used to devour books back when I was a kid, but the library I volunteer at is based on community requests so its almost entirely formulaic ghostwritten thrillers (curse you James Pattison). If anyone has book recommendations let me know!

What’s your favourite movie you saw in theatres this year?

I think the only movie I saw was the new Top Gun, which I only watched because my mum loves the original and we went for her birthday. I wouldn't say its fantastic, but I did end up infodumping to my friends about propaganda and pop culture.

What do you usually wear?

Usually loose jeans or other sturdy pants and some variety of print t-shirt with my red flannel. Anxiety kind of made it into my uni uniform, I never thought I'd miss my high school uniform that much. When I'm at home I'm usually wearing shorts and an old singlet that I got in grade 8 or something. Winter means I get to wear big jumpers! I have this horrifically ugly one on it that says New Zealand with a red kiwi on it, I adore it. If I'm reaching out of my miniscule comfort zone I'll wear a funky button up or a more form fitting shirt, I've always dressed quite modestly (although not entirely by choice) and this year I cut my hair off and started to explore my masculinity and being openly and visibly queer. I pretty much only wear natural fibres and very practial/sensory friendly clothing, so most of my clothes are made to last and will be repaired until I deign them unwearable.

Fun fact, I used to actually dress in a style I'd say is somewhere between classic lolita and cottagecore, lots of pinafores and frilly shirts and ribbons. Next year I'd like to step out of my comfort zone and dress in any way that sparks joy, maybe experiment with makeup, different styles or more revealing clothing (ooh a shoulder, scandalous).

How tall are you?

I'm actually not quite sure, between 165cm and 170cm I think (5'5" to 5'7")

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

Gemini

Do you go by your name or a nick-name?

I introduce myself with my name but with hopes that I'll get a nickname, I've always wanted one.

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

I'm still in uni but by a technicality yes? I wanted to be a scientist but came to dislike science in high school, but now I'm doing archeology (and history) through an arts degree but I could do it through a science degree. I did really enjoy digging in the dirt as a child, so I think little me would be happy about that, even if i was more into paleontology.

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

No. I do have a bit of a crush on my best friend, who I turned down a year ago because I'm the stupidest person alive and can't tell the difference between friendship feelings and romantic feelings.

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

I'm good with precision and detail orientated things. I love knitting and I've picked up archery and bread making recently. Its actually why I got into archaeology, I wanted to work in restoration and conservation.

I'm bad at remembering to do stuff. It's the ADHD man. Assessments? whoops. Consistent meals? Forgot. Cleaning? sorry not happening

Dogs or cats?

Dogs, I've never had a cat and don't really know how they work.

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favourite picture/favourite line/favourite etc. from something you created this year?

I knitted my best friend some lovely socks, they're my first pair of socks and my second time doing fair isle.

What’s something you would like to create content for?

Look I know this means fandom but I have to start planning for what I'm putting in the show next year, it's only 6 months away. I'd love to do some more sewing, maybe make a gunne sax style dress (provided my anxiety will let me wear it out of the house) and I want to find something technically challenging for knitting, maybe lacework? Send me knitting/crafting inspo. I was thinking of maybe picking up counted thread embroidery too (yes I hate myself).

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

Star Wars. I've got brain worms about it. I've been microwaving it for months. Its been on my mind constantly, yet I have no thoughts. I'm forcing all of my friends to watch it. I'm rewatching all of it. I know nothing but also everything. I'm being excessively autistic about a background character wearing a cable knit jumper.

Good thing is that it makes conversation with men under 25 incredibly easy. I've made industry connections over a conversation about Lego Star Wars.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

Uhhhhhh. My uni's archaeology society? The history society raised my standards high, they do a lot of fun events, whereas the archaeology one is useful but a lot more industry training and connections focused instead of having regular pizza and power-point nights like the history one.

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

Hmm. I'm not too sure. I can flip an egg without using anything other than the pan, does that count? Like just wiggle, wiggle, throw it up in the air and catch it.

Are you religious?

Catholic but in a cool and funky queer way

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

A concrete plan of what the hell I'm doing and how to do it. A solution to my joint pain?

Tagging: (only if you want to) @elprupneerg @rights-for-redshirts @doveyluvey @notaghost3 @swagtalia @radioactivehydronerd @hetaari @arthoe-iceland @ratfish-blues and anyone else who sees this is welcome to join in!

#if anyone is going to do it i would recommend copying the questions across not on mobile #long post #ask game #tag game #love tag games!

3 notes · View notes

nobodynobodynobodynobodynobodyn · 2 years

Text

I can’t even shit with the door open now that he’s moved in. Ngl it feels like my rights to shit comfortably are being taken away. I don’t like the light or the noise from the bathroom. So now I’m shitting in pitch black. It’s cool tho. I kinda conquer my fear of the dark when I do it. I’m the shitting conqurer. Facing my fears one upset stomach at a time.

I have to accept that finding friends that I like, that I truly vibe and feel comfortable around , is gonna take a long time. I’m probably not gonna find them on an app. Ideally the people I would probably be really good friends with are agoraphobics but i won’t find them outside. And I don’t believe knocking on everyone’s door asking if they want to be friends is a good idea. So I’m thinking about a book club. But all the book clubs in my area are filled with white people who either read books abt unbearably sad white women or all the variations of rich dad poor dad self help capitalist genre.

I think the only way to fully complete my new emergence of self is to move to a new city. I wanna move somewhere hot. Somewhere where there’s a lot of queer black ppl. Somewhere with a vibrant culture. I’m thinking North Carolina or Georgia or Texas or Colorado. I have to do more research.

I wonder why I want to move away so much. I’ve actually always wanted to move away. Virginia is an absolutely beautiful place. It’s the place I was raised up in. But I feel like I’ve seen it all. Even though I don’t get out much, I know the layout. The parks. All of it. I want somewhere new. Where I can establish my self. I’m not going to become a whole new person once I get there. I’m already beginning the process. I think I’ve outgrown this place. I’ve grown confortable here and I want a change. An uprooting of everything I know of how to be comfortable. I’ve had great memories here and poor ones too. But I need new air. A new place.

New place new titties too. I don’t really like having big boobs. I think they’re giving me body dysmorphia. I don’t like the weight of them. They make my back hurt. They sweat to much. They’re uncomfortable. Especially bras. I never liked bras. But now I got DD and I’m confined to the cotton n latex prisons for life. Solitary confinement of anything whether it be titties or people is an injustice. My boobs don’t feel like me. I feel like I need small boobs in order to move around comfortably. I even hated wearing bras in hs they were awful and always made me sweat. I def went braless most my high school career and didn’t really care. I want to wear shirts with out that uncomfortable feeling if skin to skin fabric to skin irritating the skin friction even more. I hate it.

The more I look back in my life the more I want to get tested for autism. I’m realizing I had a lot of sensory issues as a kid. I would always wear sunglasses in the house if was too bright. I could hear the sounds of light pass through my head. I always beat box or hum of tap my fingers on my chest in a drum pattern. I always used to have bad anxiety in school. Also with making friends.

A part of me wonders though about the bad things I’ve done. Cause I’ve only seen autistic people be described as kind, giving. There’s been times where I had to say no and it really hurt me to say no (this was when I was first establishing boundaries and my ability to say no. My friend asked me for twenty dollars and I thought about it and I thought how much he owed me and what happened last time I asked him to pay me back and I didn’t want to deal with potential conflict so I said no and I felt bad cause he’s in a bad place but, idk man I just had to say no) I also used to be really mean to my cousin when I was lil. I regret it now. I wish I could have clearly stated my boundaries. I didn’t like him being so close to me so my go to was to hit and scratch and I hate I did that. I regret it. I want to say sorry but I’m not on good terms with my family, I think.

I’m figuring out ways to reconnect with my family after not talking. I know I could just say hi. You know what,.. I think I will just say hi. Cause it’s been too long and I haven’t seen or heard from them. I think they think that I don’t like them, that isn’t true. For the longest time I didn’t know how to talk.

I hold my body really still instead of moving. I’ve been so afraid to move. Cause I think I saw my stinking behavior once and didn’t like it.

#monday #9 #2022

0 notes

the-ghost-king · 3 years

Note

I think most of the olympians are characterized semi well, except for aphrodite. I don't have a problem with aphrodite being awful, but i wish we had gotten a more twisted version of her meddling and interference. I think part of the problem is that we see all the gods through the eyes of mortal until toa and they are going to have a different perception fo things. I sort of get why apollo was written the way he was, but it's still annoying at times because its an ancient deity written for 10 year olds. I liked his moments when he seemed more ancient and classical even though those moments are few and far between. Most of the gods fall into very obvious tropes, which was fine for me when i was young but now that im older i want more depth which rr just cant provide in his writing style.

ps. do you prefer the pjo gods or the kane chronicles gods?

Eh, I think it's hard to say any of them are characterized well considering how godly personalities are viewed by Hellenistic polytheists. Each individual will feel a different way about a certain god and interpret their presence a different way, to say a god is characterized well is mostly a subjective experience, so it's almost impossible to do so objectively.

However, I think yes Aphrodite was really poorly written, Apollo is also one of the worst written gods by Rick. Apollo is a god of civilization alongside Athena, meaning he has a deep respect for the order of humanity. He was considered one of the most Hellenistic gods by the Greeks, and often overseen the writing of treaties and the creation of cities ("that a town or a colony was never founded by the Greeks without consulting an oracle of Apollo, so that in every case he became, as it were, their spiritual leader"). He's also a god of sciences, and very smart because of it. He is rarely angered or overly invested, and is often described as kind, energetic, and cheerful. He's extremely femme, often depicted in women's clothes, with women's hairstyles (and has even been confused for Kore in some art), and yet he is known for his athleticism. He's a god of agriculture alongside Demeter, and god of light and the sun alongside the titan Helios.

And he's not at all what Rick wrote him as, a self-conceited, bored with humanity, priss who's also a jock. I bet from Rick's writing you also never knew Dionysus was basically a god of gender? And yeah sure, if you know the myth of Dionysus's origins you know about how he was raised as a girl but the fact that Dionysus also often wore women's clothes and hairstyles is completely erased from Rick's work... (Part 2) Or maybe most of Dionysus personality? Yeah sure, one could argue that he's maybe a bit peeved at not being able to drink and having to babysit kids, except wouldn't some of his personality still come through somewhere? Like his clairvoyance, or go with the flow kind of attitude? Where's his love of peace, and his love of theatre? I am thankful at least we got to see some of his madness.

I can go on really, about Hera, and Hermes, and Ares, and Persephone, and so many others. Rick's characterization of the gods is almost like he took the idea of them and then remolded it to be whatever he wanted. I'm not here to say there's a correct way to depict the gods, because as aforementioned it's a very subjective experience which is encouraged in Hellenistic Polytheism- however a lot of what Rick did shows a lack of care in many ways. That's avoiding even really truly digging into the amount of queer erasure (most specifically genderqueer erasure) in Rick's depiction of many Greek gods (and some goddesses too).

I understand the need to simplify them but the need to alter them significantly? It's very weird to me, and I'm not Hellenistic Polytheistic or anything but even as just someone who's read up a lot on the myths it's very quick to see where he went wrong. I've seen more complaints about the PJO fandom than Rick's books in Hellenistic Polytheistic communities, but the books are also criticized.

Again, subjective not objective, but simply to compare Rick's version of the gods to the original myths he is very far off the mark, which is fine if that's how he sees the gods, but I still think he was very far off the mark (again avoiding erasure, which is objective not subjective).

As for my favorite, I like the way Rick wrote the personalities of the Egyptian gods, he did a much better job with making them less simplified and more of a full individual. I will say I am not as familiar with Egyptian mythology, and I have only kept up with some of the stories about Anubis and the underworld, so I don't know how accurate his depiction of the gods is in comparison to them in mythology. I'm more familiar with Egypt and it's gods from historical standpoints than Mythological ones. So in that case the Kane Chronical gods, but even then I'm very aware that Rick was well off the mark with them- whitewashing is common in TKC and that's a whole problem in and of it's self.

#asks #anon

18 notes · View notes

sapphicambitions · 4 years

Text

Hey y’all so i made a book recs quiz earlier today but i had an even better idea. The quiz is fun and all but i think it’d be more effective to have all the questions and answers i made written out and books that i associated with those answers laid out so you can make more informed choices about which books you wanna read. Might be a dumb idea but i’ve been thinking about it all day and have nothing else to do so! Here we go. For the purposes of this, I have eleven books selected: Red, White, and Royal Blue, Carry On, The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue, They Both Die at the End, The Song of Achilles, Crier’s War, Girls of Paper and Fire, The Abyss Surrounds Us, Of Fire and Stars, Tell Me How You Really Feel, and Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe. There are many many many more great queer books but these are my faves and the ones I’m recommending. This is all of course my own opinions about the books!

Here we go!

Do you wanna read something that’s:

Women Loving Women? (Crier’s War, Girls of Paper and Fire, The Abyss Surrounds Us, Of Fire and Stars, Tell Me How You Really Feel)

Men Loving Men? (Red, White, and Royal Blue, The Song of Achilles, Carry On, They Both Die at The End, Aristotle and Dante, Gentleman’s Guide)

Pick a Place to Go:

Somewhere ancient (The Song of Achilles, Crier’s War, Girls of Paper and Fire, Of Fire and Stars)

Europe (RWRB, Carry On, Gentleman’s Guide)

The ocean (The Abyss Surrounds Us)

America idk (They Both Die at The End, Tell Me How You Really Feel, Aristotle and Dante, RWRB)

What Book Series Shaped Your Childhood?

A Series of Unfortunate Events (Girls of Paper and Fire, They Both Die at The End)

Percy Jackson and the Olympians (The Song of Achilles, The Abyss Surrounds Us, Crier’s War)

Harry Potter (Carry On, RWRB)

The Chronicles of Narnia (Gentleman’s Guide, Of Fire and Stars)

Umm i actually didn’t like book series growing up. I was more of a standalone book kind of person (Tell Me How You Really Feel, Aristotle and Dante)

Pick an LGBT Movie:

Brokeback Mountain (The Song of Achilles, They Both Die at the End)

But, I’m a Cheerleader! (Tell Me How You Really Feel, Carry On)

Moonlight (Aristotle and Dante, They Both Die at the End)

Love, Simon (RWRB, Gentleman’s Guide)

The Handmaiden (Crier’s War, Of Fire and Stars, Girls of Paper and Fire)

Star Wars if they hadn’t been home of phobic (The Abyss Surrounds Us)

Okay Honestly I Have Three Favorite Tropes. Pick One.

Enemies to lovers (RWRB, Carry On, Crier’s War, Of Fire and Stars, The Abyss Surrounds Us, Tell Me How You Really Feel)

Hurt/comfort (Girls of Paper and Fire, They Both Die At the End)

Childhood friends to lovers (The Song of Achilles, Gentleman’s Guide, Aristotle and Dante)

How do you feel about science fiction / fantasy?

YES TO BOTH (Crier’s War)

I like the science stuff but i don’t like the magic stuff (The Abyss Surrounds Us)

I like the magic stuff but i don’t like the science stuff (Carry On, Girls of Paper and Fire, Of Fire and Stars, The Song of Achilles)

I don’t like either. I want real people and real stories (RWRB, Gentleman’s Guide, Tell Me How You Really Feel, Aristotle and Dante, They Both Die At The End)

How do you feel about having parents in stories about LGBT kids?

I don’t mind as long as they’re loving a supportive (RWRB, Aristotle and Dante, Tell Me How You Really Feel)

It’s not the parents story. I dont want them involved heavily with the plot. (They Both Die At The End, Girls of Paper and Fire, The Abyss Surrounds Us)

It’s realistic and i think it should be a way for kids with less than loving and supportive parents to see themselves in the stories and see how they can heal as the characters have from the trauma of their childhood and parents. (Carry On, Gentleman’s Guide, The Song of Achilles, Crier’s War, Of Fire and Stars)

Opinion on Period Pieces?

Does it count if it’s in the future? (The Abyss Surrounds Us)

It’s about the YEARNING and the HANDS and the HISTORY (Gentleman’s Guide, The Song of Achilles, Crier’s War, Girls of Paper and Fire, Of Fire and Stars, Aristotle and Dante)

Miss me with that pride and prejudice shit. No thanks. Modern Day Only. (RWRB, Carry On, They Both Die at the End, Tell Me How You Really Feel)

How do you feel about royalty? Like the mood of it all?

Megan Markle is the only bitch i respect. (Red, White, and Royal Blue)

Okay honestly i love royalty shit. Don’t judge me. It’s a whole mood. (The Song of Achilles, Of Fire and Stars, Gentleman’s Guide)

I like royalty stories as long it’s about how to take them FUCKING DOWN break out the guillotine ladies!!!!!!!!! Down with the monarchy!!!! (Crier’s War, Girls of Paper and Fire, The Abyss Surrounds Us)

Hmmm no thanks (Carry On, They Both Die At the End, Tell Me How You Really Feel, Aristotle and Dante)

Do you want things to get steamy?

I mean i don’t mind a sex scene but let’s not get nasty. (Crier’s War, Of Fire and Stars, The Abyss Surrounds Us, Tell Me How You Really Feel, Girls of Paper and Fire, The Song of Achilles)

Ummmmmm no thank you i don’t want a sex scene (Carry On, They Both Die at The End, Aristotle and Dante, Gentleman’s Guide)

I only ever select the mature/explicit ratings on ao3. I know what im about. (Red, White, and Royal Blue)

How deep of a read are you trying to get into here?

I want a book I can completely immerse myself into. I want to be so pulled into the world that I’m awake till 3am reading the book. I want maps. I want timelines. I want to this book to suck me into its world and never let me go. (RWRB, Carry On, They Both Die At The End, The Song of Achilles, Crier’s War, Girls of Paper and Fire, Gentleman’s Guide)

Just like something casual (Of Fire and Stars, Tell Me How You Really Feel, The Abyss Surrounds Us, Aristotle and Dante)

How would you like your ending served?

Something that gives me chills (Crier’s War, Girls of Paper and Fire)

Warm and lovely like a cup of tea that fills me up and makes everything okay (RWRB, Gentleman’s Guide, Tell Me How You Really Feel, Aristotle and Dante)

The kind of ending that acknowledges the characters just went through a LOT and probably need some THERAPY and probably sets up the sequel (Carry On, The Abyss Surrounds Us, Of Fire and Stars)

Like i wanna be wrecked. I should be sobbing. On the floor. (The Song of Achilles, They Both Die at The End)

What Do You Want To Do?

I wanna YEARN (RWRB, The Song of Achilles, Crier’s War, Of Fire and Stars, Gentleman’s Guide)

I want to feel seen (RWRB, Aristotle and Dante)

I want to laugh (RWRB, Carry On, Gentleman’s Guide, Tell Me How You Really Feel, The Abyss Surrounds Us)

I wanna get riled up and ready to kick some ass (RWRB, Crier’s War, Girls of Paper and Fire, The Abyss Surrounds Us)

I want my heart to go: “Oh.” (RWRB, Carry On, The Song of Achilles, They Both Die at the End, Aristotle and Dante)

Emotional Check, how are you feeling in the quarantine?

I’m horny and restless. (Red, White, and Royal Blue. Trust me.)

Everything sucks! The World is Ending! (Okay homie you may not be in the emotional headspace for a dark story. May I direct you to: Carry On, Gentleman’s Guide, The Abyss Surrounds Us, Of Fire and Stars, Tell Me How You Really Feel, Aristotle and Dante, Red, White, and Royal Blue)

I mean obviously not fantastic but im in a pretty okay headspace (You are probably a little bit better suited to handle something heavier. May I direct you to: The Song of Achilles, They Both Die at The End, Girls of Paper and Fire, Crier’s War)

I hope this is helpful to anyone who’s looking for a new book to read!

576 notes · View notes

themollyjay · 3 years

Text

On Representation In Writing

When I was fourteen years old, a book saved my life. That may sound dramatic, but I’ll be honest, it was a dramatic story. You see, I’ve suffered from depression since I was six years old, and I never felt comfortable in my own skin. Like a lot of transgender kids, I loved things that didn’t match up to the gender I was assigned at birth. I liked He-Man, but I loved She-Ra. I liked Superman, but I loved Supergirl. When it came to GI Joe, I had a ton of figures, but I only ever really played with Scarlet, Lady Jay and Covergirl. I had a BMX Dirt Bike with faux snakeskin pads on it that looked really cool, but I preferred to rid my neighbors pink and purple bike. I thought look was cool, but my Leia action figures always stole his lightsaber.

I hid those things because I knew they were ‘wrong’. I got dragged to church three times a week, and it was a Southern Speaking In Tongues Pentecostal Church. The kind that policed gender presentation and sexuality with militant fervor. So, I grew up not really understanding what it meant to be gay, or transgender (transexual was the term at the time), or lesbian, or queer. I only knew they were bad and meant you were going to hell. My only real exposure to those concepts outside of the fire and brimstone sermons were as the but of jokes on TV, or as a point of horror in movies like ‘Dressed To Kill’ (I’d say look it up, but honestly, don’t, because it’s horrible).

I was seven or eight years old when the AIDS crisis really hit big, and I got an education on what it meant to be gay or lesbian, and I started to understand that maybe, possibly, those weren’t horrible things to be. I never said that, because hell was still a big and scary thing, but I kind of wondered if I might be gay. Being assigned male at birth, and loving all sorts of ‘girl stuff’, that’s where my mind went, because I didn’t understand what was wrong with me. I just understood that I was miserable and I felt trapped in my own skin.

When I was fourteen, I went to Dallas for the summer to dog sit for my aunt for a couple of weeks. Not really a big deal, but at the time, I was a voracious reader, and I burned through the stack of books I had brought with me in about three days. My aunt had mentioned to me that there was a small bookstore a few blocks away, so one day in the middle of July, in Dallas Texas, in hundred plus degree heat, I walked I think six or seven blocks to get to the bookstore.

It was a terrible bookstore. At least, to my mind. I stayed there for a couple of hours, wandering around, waiting for the sun to go down a bit and for it to cool off before I went home, but the store didn’t even have a science fiction section. Just romance, mystery, and a bunch of self-help crap, and a whole ton of stuff about how aliens were among us and Elvis was still alive and other crap.

Somewhere around my sixth circuit of the store, when I was seriously starting to eye the bodice rippers out of sheer desperation, I found something that didn’t belong there. Tucked in between the bodice rippers and the murder mysteries was a name that was familiar, and a title that wasn’t. I found a copy of a book by Robert A. Heinlein called I Will Fear No Evil.

For those of you who have never heard of the book, it’s about a Billionaire named Johann Sebastian Bach Smith whose brain is healthy, but whose body is falling apart. He pays for an experimental procedure, a brain transplant, and wakes up in the body of a women, Eunice Branca, who is young, beautiful, and happens to have been Johann’s secretary.

I Will Fear No Evil is widely regarded as one of Heinlein’s worst works. People call it sexist, and fetishistic and all sorts of other things. I don’t care. It was the first time in my life that I saw a sex change presented as something other than the butt of a joke. It was the first time in my life where I saw a story about someone who started out as male and ended up as female and was happy for the change, who lived a happier life after the change, who loved and was loved in return after the charge.

I’m not sure how many times I read that novel in the week and a half or so I had left in Texas, but at least four times. I got a little obsessed with the idea, and by the time I went home, I understood myself in a way I never had before. I wanted to be a woman. I wanted it more than anything else in the world.

It didn’t change my life overnight. It didn’t make me not depressed. It didn’t make everything okay, suddenly. But it did help me understand myself. It did show me that people like me didn’t have to live miserable, unloved lives. It did show me that being the way I am wasn’t a one-way ticket to hell. It made things better, seeing myself reflected in a story like that.

Knowing myself, understanding myself, it helped stop a downward spiral that would have ended in a very bad place. It gave me something to hang on to for a long time. It took a long time after I found that novel for me to come out and transition, but finding that book, a twenty-year-old science fiction novel in a bookstore that didn’t even have a science fiction section, still feels like the closest thing I’ve ever seen to divine intervention. It was the light that started me on my journey to becoming myself.

That’s something I think about a lot I sit down and start writing. If that book hadn’t shown me a reflection of myself, I would have spiraled down into self-destruction. That book saved my life. Representation saved my life. And that’s something I want to give back in my own stories.

#writing #original fiction #self promotion #representation #queer fiction

17 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 5 years

Text

Discredit Pt. 2: More Recommended Reviews For A.Z. Fell’s

Alright, folks. Some notes first:

1. You all rock. I’m sending out 20k+ virtual hugs for all the notes I NEVER expected to get on this nonsense.

2. This is probably the final section, just because I’m not sure I can adequately follow up part one and it might be foolish to attempt it here. Let alone twice. But for now, here we go.

3. Kudos to the anon who reminded me of Aziraphale’s cash-only policy <3

4. Nicole Y’s review is based off an actual comment I read years ago, but heaven only knows where online it was. I’ve got the memory of a goldfish.

5. Trigger warning for the use of a queer slur in this. It’s the same review as above, number 5 if you want to avoid it.

6. There’s a text-only version of just the reviews at the end, after all the images. I’ll upload that to my Sparse Clutter collection on AO3 in a bit.

Bonus 7. People thinking this is a real shop deserve all the good things in this world.

That’s all I’ve got. Hope you enjoy! 👍

****************************************************************************

I’m a simple guy who likes simple jokes. If there’s a whoopee cushion I plant it. I will call you up to ask if your refrigerator is running and then tell you to go catch it. (Actually that one died out so thoroughly it’s actually capable of a comeback now!). Yes, I’m a dad and yes, I have a t-shirt that says Dad Jokes? I Think You Mean Rad Jokes! which I wear un-ironically every Saturday. All of which is just to say that my wife was well prepared for my stupidity when I walked into Fell’s.

I? I was not.

You see the bibles when you walk in? The ones to the left? Let them be. Don’t even look at them. Definitely don’t pick out the fanciest one you can find and absolutely don’t walk up to the owner with it held in your pudgy little fingers, grinning like a loon, cheerfully asking whether this should be in the fiction section. Just don’t. Mark my words you’ll regret it. Though your wife won’t. She’ll get a great old laugh out of it all.

In conclusion: it’s quite possible that mama did raise a fool and he just got his ass verbally whooped by a guy in a bowtie.

***

Shout-out to Mr. Fell for being the only decent bloke in this city. I’ve popped in and out of his store for years—including before I started transitioning. So he knew my dead name, dead look, whole shebang and I was definitely nervous to play the ‘You know me, but this is what’s changed and are you gonna throw a fit about it?’ game.

You know what he said? “Oh, Rose! What a lovely choice. Crowley dear, why aren’t you growing any roses? Some white ones would look splendid next to my Henredon chair.”

That’s it. He just went straight into dragging his partner for not giving him roses. So hey, Mom? Next time you’re snooping through my social media why don’t you explain to all these nice people why the 50+yo book seller accepts me in ways you won’t. Don’t go telling me age is an excuse or that you’re ‘Stuck in your ways.’ I’ve watched Fell dress in the same damn clothes since I was ten!!

Yeah. Sorry. Rant over. Fell’s a gem. That’s my take. Rose out.

***

Anyone else in the shop when that guy started yelling about buying pornography? And then got escorted into the back room for some ‘private conversation’? Well done, Mr. Fell! Didn’t know you had it in you.

***

Alright alright alright alright I am TOTALLY calm about this.

Went into A.Z. Fell’s last Thursday. Not because I knew anything about the place. Just because I’ve been hitting up every bookshop within a twenty-mile radius, asking if they’re hosting any book signings. Long story short I self-published my novel Blight last month—which you can get for a mere £5 here but I swear this isn’t a promotional thing I’m just BROKE—and have been looking for networking opportunities, tips, stuff like that. So the owner listened politely as I explained all this. Then said he didn’t do anything of that sort, which didn’t surprise me given the shop’s vibe.

But then? Then??? He offered to let me do a signing there??????

As said. Totally calm about this. This man either plans to kidnap me or is actually giving me my first shot at an audience outside my blog. AKA totally worth the risk.

Tuesday the 9th. 7:00pm. Just in case anyone’s interested ;)

***

holy sweet baby jesus i was tripping balls last week you tryin’ to tell me that kING KONG SIZED FANGED FUCK SNAKE IS REAL

***

Witnessed the most perfect exchange the other day:

Grumpy Dude With No Manners: “You. Boy. Where’s the man I spoke with over the phone?”

Mr. Fell’s Partner Who Knows Damn Well Only Two of Them Work There But Clearly Doesn’t Like This Guy’s Tone: “Did this man give you his name?”

Grumpy Dude: “Might have. Don’t remember. Sounded like a fairy though.”

Me: “....”

My girlfriend: “....”

This Poor Sweet Startled Kid On Our Left: “?!?!?!?”

Fell’s Partner In The Drollest Voice I’ve Ever Heard: “None of us have wings. Out!”

***

This shop gets full stars simply because every time I walk in they’re playing Queen.

I mean, I’ve walked in once, but once is enough when you’ve got Crazy Little Thing Called Love blasting full volume.

***

Okay, I’m still kind of shaken up but I needed to write this out somewhere and this seemed as good a place as any.

I spilled my latte on a book. Just tripped on thin air, popped the lid, and chucked a venti’s worth of coffee all over a very expensive looking text. I didn’t mean to, obviously, but it happened and I just started bawling on the spot. Full on sobs because this semester has been absolute hell, I ruined this guy’s antique, there’s no way I can pay for it, I can’t even sneak away because I’m drawing the whole store’s attention...just all the things all at once. I really was straight up panicking and was seconds away from pulling out my inhaler. I couldn’t breathe.

And then Mr. Fell showed up.

Jesus it’s embarrassing to admit but I think I hit him once or twice. On the arms I mean, because he was trying to touch me and I figured, I don’t know, it was a restraint or something. He was going to call the police and hold me until they got there. But then he managed to start rubbing my back and I lost it like I hadn’t already been bawling my eyes out in this shop. Ever cry into a perfect stranger’s chest? I have! But if Mr. Fell seemed to mind he definitely didn’t show it. Just kept holding me while I probably ruined his shirt and then took me into the back and made me a new coffee in this cute little angel mug. He let me stay there while I called my sister and waited for her to arrive.

She’s a good twenty minutes outside of Soho, so we talked for a while. It’s not like Mr. Fell could fix my shit roommate or bio classes, but I guess just talking about it all really helped. I was a lot calmer by the time my sis arrived and Mr. Fell insisted I come back any time I wanted—for browsing or more coffee.

Of course, sis offered to pay for the book herself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so surprised in my life. “Certainly not!” he said. “Contrary to popular belief, no one should pay for their mistakes. It’s what makes you all so wonderfully human.”

So yeah. Thanks, Mr. Fell.

***

This little shop must have started a book club for kids! Lately I’ve seen the same group of children hanging out at Fell’s. Three boys and a girl. They’re a bit rambunctious at times, but who isn’t at that age? So wonderful seeing literature passed down to the next generation. Even if some of it is rather questionable looking...

***

It’s an honest crime that more of you aren’t talking about what a wonderful bookstore this is.

I’m a book lover at heart and Fell’s always makes me feel like I’m coming home. I just arrived somewhere safe and familiar after a particularly harrowing day. I’ve slipped under the covers of my bed after dinner and a bubble bath. It’s something like that, but with an element of surprise too. One of the reasons why I adore private and used shops over chain stores is that little touch of chaos. You walk in and sure, there are general sections to browse, but everything is just a little bit disorganized from people leafing through books and then putting them back somewhere else. There’s no real record keeping, you’ve just gotta head to one particular corner and hope for the best. It’s not the sort of place you go to if you want something specific because the chances of them having it are slim—that’s just how the universe works—and even if they did no employee knows where it is anymore.

But if you wander the shelves for a while, crouch down low to get a look at everything on the bottom shelf, pay attention to the books that don’t have easy to read titles or any summaries to speak of... you just might find something you didn’t know you were looking for. That’s Fell’s: the comfort of the familiar and the excitement of the unknown.

*** A lot of people might assume that these stories are embellished or outright made up, but as a bookseller myself going on twenty years I believe every single one of them.

That being said, I accidentally moved a rug and found chalk sigils that look like they belong in a cult. Make of that what you will.

***

There’s a special place in hell for 21st century shop owners that only take cash. Who carries cash anymore? Not me! I haven’t bothered with that nonsense in years! You can get a card reader for 15 pounds on Amazon. Or you know what? Be stingy and pay 7 for the little attachment on your phone. This place is nuts if it thinks it’s going to survive much longer on a cash-only policy, especially with some books that look like they’re worth hundreds or thousands of pounds! Yeah, yeah, just let me pull out this giant wad of bills for you. I’ll carry them around a crime-laden city because there’s no ATM near you either.

I mean jesus, you’d think this guy didn’t want to sell anything.

***

I walked in. There was a man screaming at a fern while another threatened him with an umbrella. I walked out.

5 stars do recommend.

***

I once walked in on the same (?) guy yelling at a book for daring to fall on the owner’s head. I think that’s just a Thing over there.

***

Like a lot of people here I didn’t actually go to Fell’s for any books (flat tire, Angel Recovery taking forever) and ended up staying three hours (not because of Angel). No, I wandered towards the back and found this ancient CRT set propped on a table of books, the kind that my Dad used to watch Twilight Zone on. This lanky guy had a marathon of Gilmore Girls going... though how he was managing that with a broken antenna and no DVR, I really don’t know. But yeah. He told me to pull up a chair and I did. Guy gave me popcorn.

I wish I’d paid a little more attention to his name. Charlie? Curley? I really can’t remember, but thanks for the enjoyable afternoon, man.

***

I BOUGHT A BOOK HERE

Not sure how though. Just kinda happened. First edition of Just William. Frankly I didn’t even want the thing, but the owner basically shoved me out the door with it when I took two seconds to look at the spine. Odd that he was so willing to part with this one.

Update: ... hold up. I didn’t buy a book because I never actually paid the guy. ‘Basically shoved me out the door’ was literal. Do I go back??

***

This page has really gone feral the last couple of months so I’m just gonna bite the bullet and say it:

Anyone notice that Fell’s snake and Fell’s partner are never in the same room together?

***

I really don’t like the implications of this…

***

This is precisely why the Internet has turned into a cesspool. You all should be ashamed of some of the stuff you’re writing here. Can’t two men just be friends anymore? Two real life men? These guys aren’t some characters for you to ‘ship’ or whatever. Quit making outrageous assumptions about their sexualities and use this website for what it’s actually for: reviewing the bookshop. Honestly I’m so sick of this sort of this shit.

***

Dude. They run a queer-focused shop together with a flat on the second floor. Fell calls the guy ‘Dear’ and he’s always calling him ‘Angel.’ People have literally seen them kissing. If you want I can give you the number of my physician. He might be able to help you pull your head out of your ass.

***

What the hell is your problem? I’m literally just reminding people to stop making assumptions. It’s gross and insulting. These guys check their Yelp page. You really think they’re gonna be okay with this stuff?

Also: I’m not the five-year-old relying on insults, so.

***

Making an account purely to set the record straight: I’m the hot twink in question and I married that angel. Peace

#good omens #ineffable husbands #air conditioning #good omens fic #guess who spent 48 hours doing nothing but writing and formatting #can I get a wahoo

11K notes · View notes

heloflor · 3 years

Text

As Time Passes Prologue : My Brother, part 1

AO3 link ; Prologue 1 (The Estate)

A collection of scenes from Vinnie’s early life. From his younger years as a toddler to his last years as a teen. From a life of fear to a life of uncertainty. From an abused child relying on the only good people in his life to a young adult determined to make things right for them.

TRIGGER WARNING : child abuse, violence, depression, mentions of drug and alcohol, infidelity. Basically anything that goes with messed up abusive parents. And to that regard, this fic is NOT made to romanticize abuse or mental illness ! There’s also a moment in part 2 mentioning a dystopic future with the urbanization of the world and its consequences on every species (it’s only one part and you see it coming). This also means mentions of animal abuse and LITERAL animal genocide !!

Notes : Well, this took 8 months longer than expected…

Seriously. I started working on this chapter BEFORE “The Estate”, only deciding later to start with Cav’s backstory because it makes more sense given what I intend to write for chapters 3 and 4.

Though, that chapter is very, VERY long so that also explains the delay. And even despite the size, I feel like I tried to cram in too much elements and underdeveloped some stuff as a result. Like, that whole thing could be a fic in itself if I had enough ideas to fill the holes there and there.

On a lighter note, during that “hiatus”, I read the book “Wanderers” by Chuck Wending and one interlude gave me the idea of putting dates at the beginning of each new part of the story, which is going to come in VERY HANDY for the story (also the fact that the fic is called “As Time Passes” makes it even better).

As for the chapter itself, let’s just say that, after giving an idea of what Cavendish’s life used to be, now it’s time to show Dakota’s. Though, this chapter will be much longer and goes onto basically his entire life before B.O.T.T.. There are also a lot of dark stuff (as said in the trigger warning) because apparently my brain still hasn’t gotten past that teenager need to make anything as messed up as possible.

Regarding the sibling OCs, fun fact : the idea of Dakota having older siblings came partly from Tumblr and partly from my wish to have Dakota be an uncle due to how much the guy seems to love kids (but I don’t see him have his own, for reason that will be talked about in the main fic). Then, while listening to random songs and coming up with Dakavendish animations in my head (yeah I’m THAT kind of weirdo), I ended up listening to “A Guy Like You” from Disney Hunchback and suddenly Dakota had three siblings. Then all that needed to be done was give them a personality and choose which one would have a kid. And then make them all queer because I spend too much time on the internet.

Another thing about them, to make it easier at the beginning : there are four. And for the age-gap, as an example, the fic starts with the ages being 13 (Enzo “Enzie”), 9 (Bettina “Bettie”), 5 (Donatello “Donnie”) and 3 (Viviana “Vivie”/Vincenzo “Vinnie”).

(side-note about the writing at the beginning : using the wrong pronouns for a character is MUCH harder than I thought it would be)

Btw I don’t know how to draw so instead, if you want to see how the siblings look like, I made them in Miitopia (don’t ask). Here’s the link for it (just ignore my ramblings in this...).

Also, while the idea of him having siblings comes partly from my brain, the idea of Dakota being Italian is 100% from Tumblr and AO3 with like half the Dakavendish fandom who seems to follow this headcanon. Hell, I even have an irl friend who told me Dakota gives them a European vibe while I was telling them that one of the reasons people saw him as trans was his height.

(and I guess you could say the same thing about him having heterochromia and being colorblind ; all the credit for these two ideas goes to the fandom)

Btw, despite them being Italians, the dialogue is in english. In future chapters tho, depending on the character’s POV, some dialogue will either be in Italian or in English in italics.

And fun fact : while googling Italian names to help me name these characters, I discovered that there’s an Italian name that’s “Baldassare” and this is 100% how Dakota’s siblings and nephew/nieces would call Cavendish.

And one last “””fun””” fact : the character of Enzo is partly inspired by a guy I know who, by the age of 6, was the one to wake up, dress, feed, bring to school and overall raise his 4 younger siblings. And if you’re wondering, the guy is 23 now and is doing pretty fine (much, MUCH better than the shit I plan for my OC here). And no, the name of the OC isn’t inspired by this guy. I looked up random Italian names for each sibling + Vinnie’s dead name.

Anyways, onto the fic now. Enjoy !

January 10, 2134

The morning started with their usual routine.

Vivie was sleeping soundly, her brother Donnie by her side, until their oldest brother Enzie came to wake them up. Vivie could hear her sister Bettie grumble, not helped by Enzie urging her to get up. He would always claim that, unlike the other two, she needed to be ready early. They didn’t go to school at the same hours. First it was Bettie, then Donnie, and finally Vivie was brought to the nursery.

Enzie also went to school. Bettie once said that Enzie always turned out late because his school started before them. But Enzie always insisted to take care of them first. The older brother didn’t like letting them alone with Mamma. And, truth be told, Vivie didn’t like it either.

Once Enzie reached their bed, Donnie pretended to still be sleeping and made snoring noises. Sometimes, Vivie would do the same. Today though, she just giggled, listening to her brothers argue.

She couldn’t open her eyes. The light hurt her. So she waited for her brothers to be done, for Enzie to focus his attention to her and give her her sunglasses.

Then, the four kids sat on the beds to have their breakfast, taking out the bags hiding under their beds. Years ago, way before Vivie was born, Enzie had decided that they should all hide their fruits and snacks in the bedroom instead of in the kitchen where Mamma could take them, and the others obeyed.

Enzie was always worried about food. Even though Mamma brought enough for them to eat everyday if they shared in small portions, Enzie insisted that it was never enough, that kids like them needed more than that. He always told them that, if they found something to eat, they should eat until they were full and share if some was left. As a result, Bettie and Donnie often brought food back from their lunch at school.

As for Enzie, how he always found something for the three of them was a mystery. Vivie had heard Bettie get angry at her brother more than once, accusing him of stealing food and talking about how he was going to end up in prison. But then Enzie would show what he got her, and she would stop yelling. But Vivie could see that she was still angry, and it made her sad too. Vivie heard that prison was bad, that the people who went left for a long time.

Vivie didn’t want Enzie to go to prison.

Who would take care of her, if Enzie was not here ?

…

Despite her young age, Vivie would sometimes feel bad for Enzie. He was very nice and always helped her when she was upset. But was anybody helping him ? Enzie slept on the scratchy couch in the living-room to let Bettie have her own bed. He refused to eat until his siblings ate enough. He helped Bettie with her homework before doing his. He never slept if one of them wasn’t, willing to tell as many songs and story as needed. He always went outside with them to watch over them. If one of them needed something from Mamma, he would talk to her for them.

Vivie couldn’t talk that well yet. While she knew a few words, she was said to be behind on language. But while she couldn’t communicate, she could observe.

When she was at the nursery, Vivie would see the other children, the other families. She was told about how a family worked.

The parents took care of the children. The parents fed the children, helped them with their homework, told them bedtime stories, watched over them, cared for them, have a bed for each one of them.

Mamma didn’t do any of this. She never did.

Mamma was just there, in the house, with them. Enzie told them not to talk to her. She could be dangerous when she was bothered.

And yet, she would go to them sometimes. She would go outside with them, just walking ahead as she brought Donnie and Vivie to the closest playground. She would mention them on the phone. Vivie even saw her go to Bettie’s school play once.

But the rest of the time, she would be lying down somewhere in “her side” of the house, glaring when any of her children would come close all the while holding one of those bottles Enzie completely forbid them to touch. Or she would be out of the house, especially at night, going to what Vivie supposed was her job.

So, since she was never there, Enzie took care of them.

It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t how the other children lived. Enzie was not an adult, at least Vivie didn’t think so. Bettie said he was as much of a child as she was.

But Vivie couldn’t do anything about it. As of right now, all she could do was finish her morning snack, brush her teeth, let Enzie dress her up and follow her older siblings as they packed for school, listening to the same instructions Enzie gave them each day : “Don’t go with any strangers.”, “Listen to your teachers.”, “Don’t get in trouble.”

Maybe it wasn’t normal, but it was all that Vivie knew. And at the very least, she supposed it was better than nothing.

---------------

October 30, 2134

Vivie didn’t understand how she ended up here, on the examination table of the nearest doctor. She had been in the bedroom, getting yelled at by Donnie for taking his clothes. She always liked his clothes more than her own. But when Enzie arrived to investigate the noise, a confusion happened.

Donnie complained that Vivie took his yellow shirt and his red pants. And while Vivie couldn’t lie about that, she insisted that everything she was wearing was of the same color and that Donnie was using two words that meant the same thing. While Donnie and Vivie went back and forth about colors, Enzie went to pick up a few clothes. He then quickly interrupted his younger siblings, sat Vivie down and asked her to tell him the color of each outfit.

The four years-old was confused but decided to comply. Describing blue shirts, purple costumes and pink underwear. But then, there was the color of the clothes she was wearing, a color Vivie had heard being called by three different names : yellow, red and green.

Each time the clothes would have this color, she would use one of those words randomly, getting several huffs from Donnie, making her feel like she was doing something wrong.

After a few more, the thirteen years-old asked Donnie to close the blinds and turn off every light, which the six years-old quickly did. Then, Enzie requested that his sister remove her sunglasses.

They tried his game again, leading to the same results. The girl started sniffing while twirling one temple of her sunglasses. Was there something wrong with her ? Were her eyes wrong again ? Enzie was quick to hold her and calm her down, singing her her favorite lullaby.

Next thing Vivie knew, she was walked to the hospital by her brother. There, a doctor tried to look at her eyes with a light, leading to a lot of struggling from the young child. He then followed with a guessing game with numbers hidden inside colored circles. It was only then that the doctor explained what was wrong with her.

He called it “color-blindness”. It meant that she didn’t see colors the same way other people did, the same way her siblings did. In his explanation, the doctor mentioned how it was incredibly rare for a girl to be colorblind without any sibling or parent being colorblind as well. Enzie replied that he never questioned his parents about it. And while Mamma seemed able to see colors just fine, the teen had no idea if Papà was the same as her.

But, in any case, there was a way to partially fix this.

The doctor excused himself for a minute, letting the anxious teen and the fidgety child alone. Enzie went to sit next to his sister, who was quick to jump on his lap. He ran a finger through the toddler’s curly hair and she pressed her head against his chest. She smiled, feeling peaceful and safe in his arms.

When the doctor came back, he was holding a small pair of glasses with orange lens, along with two identical balls. Enzie stood back up and the doctor gave the plastic balls to the toddler, telling her to raise her head so that he could put the new glasses.

Once Vivie opened her eyes with the new glasses in place, she found herself squeal in surprise.

The balls in her hands, they weren’t the same color at all ! And those colors…had she even seen them before ?!

While the doctor was talking to her brother, Vivie kept putting the glasses on and off, noticing the immediate difference in colors. How could this even be ?!

But before she could ask any question, Enzie gave her the other pair of sunglasses, took her in his arms, thanked the doctor and left the office.

Vivie seated herself in her brother’s arms, the movement from his walking slowly rocking her to sleep.

“Vivie ?”, the teen’s voice took away the fog in her mind.

“huh ?”

“Did you like seeing those colors with the new glasses ?”

“uh-huh.”, the toddler nodded.

“Do you want to have glasses like that all the time.”

“Yes !”, she replied, her head snapping away from Enzie’s shoulder.

“Then this Saturday we’ll got get you a pair. Okay ?”

“Okay !”

“Good. Now let’s go back home before Donnie or Bettie get on mamma’s nerves.”

As the teenager walked at a fast pace, a new question arose in his sister’s mind.

“Enzie ?”

“Yes ?”

“Do you…you will fall down for my new glasses ?”, the toddler asked full of worry. Bettie had told her the story of how she got her sunglasses. Apparently, she had refused to open her eyes as a baby and, everytime Enzie asked mamma to go see a doctor, she refused. She “didn’t care enough”, Bettie said. So Enzie decided to give her a reason to go, and jumped from a window, forcing mamma to bring him to the hospital, where the then-child was able to convince the doctor to help Vivie.

“Will I…oh ! Oh no, don’t worry !”, the teenager’s laugh didn’t do anything to ease Vivie’s worry. She pouted.

“Do not get hurt !”, she insisted.

“I promise you Vivie, we’re just going to go to a store. I…”, he looked away. “I can get the money for it…I mean…I’m sure mamma wouldn’t mind losing a few euros…”

“Mamma will help ? With no you falling ?”

“She will.”, Enzie assured. “And I won’t fall. Don’t worry about it, piccolina. Everything’s going to be alright.”

---------------

July 4, 2136

Vivie was hiding in a closet. She had done it again. She had taken Donnie’s clothes.

It was something she did a lot, something she had done for a long time now.

It wasn’t that she found it fun to annoy Donnie ! She just didn’t like her clothes. Bettie had tried to get her “good-looking girl clothes” with the little money they had for it, but Vivie couldn’t care less. She only wore the same few outfits, the ones that Bettie never called “girly”. The only “girly” thing she continuously wore was a heart-shaped pink hairclip, but only because it made her sister very happy.

She didn’t want “pretty girl clothes”, she liked Donnie’s clothes more, even if they were too big for her. She actually liked the size of these clothes, as she could flap her hands with the too-long sleeves of his winter shirts.

Sometimes, when Vivie wore his clothes, Donnie would just let it go and they’ll keep playing together. But other times, like today, Donnie got upset by it. And now, the seven years-old had gone to fetch their older brother.

So Vivie stayed hidden, not wanting to face Enzie’s anger. Las time she saw him, the fifteen years-old had been with Bettie, busy doing homework. And Enzie didn’t like being interrupted by their “small and stupid arguments”, as he once put it. Especially for homework. For the last year, he had been complaining more and more about how he never had the time to just sit down and work with three noisy kids running around and needing him left and right.

Still, it didn’t take long for the child to hear the sound of his footsteps getting louder and louder as he approached.

“Vivie !”, the older brother called.

“I’m not here !”, the five years-old replied. She heard her brother sigh.

“Vivie, come out there. We need to have a talk.”

“I don’t want to !”, another sigh.

“Vivie, I’m not mad at you. Just come out. I’m not going to yell.”

“...Promise ?”

“Promise.”

Tentatively, Vivie opened the closet’s door and caught sign of her brother. He was sitting on her and Donnie’s bed. As she opened the door a little more, he patted the space next to him.

She left the closet and went to sit on the bed. Enzie watched as the child scooted over towards him, looked at his face, scooted a little more, looked at him again and finally moved to sit on his knees.

“You want to talk ?”, Vivie asked.

The teen nodded.

“You’re not angry ?”

He shook his head. Vivie looked in front of her as she considered it. If Enzie wasn’t angry about the clothes, then why did he want to talk to her ? But her thoughts were interrupted by the fifteen years-old putting a hand in her hair, prompting his sister to snuggle against his chest.

“Polpetta ?”

“Yeah ?”

“Why do you keep stealing Donnie’s clothes ?”

“I don’t steal them.”, Vivie protested. “I wear them.”

“And why don’t you wear your clothes ? You don’t like them ?”, Enzie’s voice was calm and soft, though Vivie could still hear the sternness and tiredness his voice often carried.

The child shook her head as a reply.

“But you like Donnie’s clothes ?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you like them more than yours ?”

Vivie had to pause to think for a moment. With her worry from earlier and the drowsiness form feeling a hand play with her hair, she found it hard to think.

“Is it because of the colors ?”, Enzie continued. “Or the size ? Or is it because you have girl clothes ?”

“Yes ! That !”, she suddenly jerked.

“You don’t like girl clothes ?”

“Nuh-uh.”, she replied.

“Why not ?”

Vivie was back to thinking. Why didn’t she like girl clothes ? She knew she didn’t like it when Bettie called them girl clothes, but why ?

“Do you want me to tell you what I think ?”, Enzie asked with a smile. Vivie looked up at his face and the teen chuckled. “I think you don’t like girl clothes because you don’t like being a girl. Do you like being a girl ?”

Yet again, Vivie looked away with a frown as she tried to concentrate. Was it true ? Did she not like being a girl ?

Vivie didn’t like her girl clothes. She didn’t like people pointing at her and saying she was a girl. And everytime Bettie wanted to play with her, Vivie would refuse. She didn’t like playing dress-up with Bettie. She preferred to play marbles or yoyo with Donnie. Even at school, she tried and liked spending time with boys more than girls, even though the largest group of boys always rejected her.

But were all these feelings because she wasn’t a girl ?

“I dunno.”, she finally replied, looking at Enzie with a pleading look, as if her brother held all the answers.

“Let me put it that way.”, the teenager continued. “If you were a boy, would you be happy about it ? Just imagine yourself as a boy. With boy clothes. A boy’s voice. A boy’s name.”

Vivie did. She could picture herself among the other boys of kindergarten. She looked like them, talked like them, belonged with them. The thought made her smile. When she opened her eyes, she bounced, looking at her brother with a smile.

“I want to be a boy !”, she exclaimed.

“Are you sure ?”

Vivie nodded excitedly.

“Alright then.”, the teen shrugged. “Polpetta-to, since you’re so eager at the thought of being a boy, how about we got get the tablet downstair to find you an actual boy’s name ? And see if you like it ?”

Vivie jumped off of Enzie’s laps and ran downstairs, leaving the room before the teenager even had the time to stand up.

Half an hour later and the two siblings were still at the coffee table, Enzie reading through a list of names starting with the letter “v”. Vivie wanted a new name that sounded like her current one.

“Vittore ?”

“ummm. No.”

“What about Vladimir ?”

“…Maybe ?”

“We could call you Vladdie. Or Vaddie.”

“no.”

“Are you even sure you want a new name ? Maybe I was wrong earlier when I said you were a boy.”

“No ! You’re not wrong ! I’m a boy ! I want a boy’s name ! Just like you and Donnie !”

“Alright then.”, the teen sighed. He mumbled something.

“huh ?”

“Nevermind. How abou-“

“What are you two doing ?”, Vivie’s head perked up at the sound of Bettie’s voice. The eleven years-old was on top of the stairs, trying to look at the tablet over Enzie’s shoulder.

“Looking for a name for our little brother over here.”, the teen replied. “Where’s Donnie ?”

“In the bedroom.”, Bettie walked down the stairs. “You know Enzie, when I complained that Vivie acts like she wants to be a boy instead of being stuck as a girl, I was joking.”

“Maybe you were but he wasn’t. At least I think.”

he…their brother… Vivie liked being called that.

“Then…it looks like I don’t have a little sister after all.”, Bettie commented with a hint of sadness in her voice. This made Vivie frown. Sh-…He didn’t want to make his sister sad.

“Maybe not,”, the oldest brother defended. “but instead, you have a great little brother.”

“I guess…”, she went to stand near Vivie, her younger brother. “So,”, she continued. “you’re looking for a boy’s name ?”

“Uh-huh !”, the child replied.

“Found anything you like yet ?”

“We’re trying.”, Enzie replied, putting his head back onto the list.

With the teen’s attention away, Bettie turned back to Vivie.

“Say, once you’re done with that, how about we go return your clothes and buy you better ones ?”

“Yes !”, Vivie jumped in his seat. That’s when he remembered the hairclip he was still wearing. He took it off and presented it to Bettie. “For you.”, he explained. “I won’t wear it now. But you like it. So you should wear it.”

Bettie smiled. “Alright. Whatever you say, patatino.”, she looked at Enzie. “Found other names ?”

“You have Vivaldo, Vidone, Vezio, Vincenzo or Vincent in English,-”

“Vincenzo ?”, for some reason, the name stuck with him. Vincenzo…

“Do you like it ?”, Bettie asked. Vivie nodded. “You want to be called Vincenzo ?”

“I think so…yeah…yes ! I want to be Vincenzo !”

“Finally !”, Enzie sighed, dropping the tablet on the table. The two younger siblings just stared at him, until he glanced back and smirked. Bettie laughed.

“Let’s go return your old clothes, Vincenzo.”, the sister said, already on the move.

“Coming !”, the youngest sibling jumped to follow but was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder. Enzie ruffled his hair with a smile.

“Hope you’re going to enjoy being a boy, Vinnie.”

When the evening came, there was one last thing to do.

Vincenzo…Vinnie was standing in the doorway, his fingers tapping the wall as he anxiously watched Enzie walking towards Mamma. The woman was in the kitchen, making herself one of those drink Enzie prevented them to touch.

“…Claudia ?”, the teen asked.

“You know better than to bother me, Enzo.”, Mamma replied in a sharp tone without looking up from her bottle. She took a sip while Enzie seemed to gather his courage.

“It’s about-“

“Enzo.”, Mamma warned. Vinnie didn’t miss how her hand moved to the top of the bottle and he shivered, grabbing the wall. He knew exactly what mamma could do when she was angry.

“Vinnie is a boy, not a girl !”, the fifteen years-old blurted out before taking a few steps back.

Mamma turned around and glared at her son, but she didn’t make a move to hit him. Still, this didn’t make Vinnie feel any less tense.

“Vivie…Viviana. His name is Vincenzo now. He’s a boy.”, Enzie continued with a firmer voice.

Mamma’s gaze seemed to lose some of its anger, though she still gave the teen a dirty look. After a few seconds, she glanced at the child at the door and Vinnie froze. She started to make her way towards him, almost instantly followed by Enzie who ran to his little brother, holding him protectively against his chest.

Mamma ignored him, her gaze on her youngest child. Vinnie looked down, gripping Enzie’s shirt in fear.

“Very well, Vincenzo. And please make your brother understand not to bother me when I’m busy or he’ll deeply regret this.”, and with that, she went to her bedroom, bottle in hand.

Once she was out of view, Enzie let out a deep sigh of relief and let go of his brother. Vinnie continued to cling on his shirt for a moment. He started crying and buried his head in Enzie’s chest, trying to cover his sobs. The older brother ran his fingers in Vinnie’s hair in a soothing motion.

“Shhh, let it all out. It’s okay to cry.”, Vinnie kept his head where it was, though his sobs became louder. “There you go. It’s alright. Everything’s alright.”, Enzie was right, and Vinnie knew it.

Vinnie had a new name. He had new clothes.

His siblings supported him.

Enzie told him that, if he did continue to feel like a boy, there could be a few changes for him to do once he’s older, at least if he wished to. Enzie promised he would do anything to make sure these changes happen.

But for now, they did everything that could be done.

They talked to mamma.

Mamma had accepted him.

…

He was going to be alright.

As long as he stayed away from mamma, as long as he kept listening to Enzie, everything was going to be fine.

---------------

March 22, 2137

Vinnie didn’t know what to make of Papà.

As far as the six years-old could remember, which wasn’t a lot, papà would show up from time to time starting in January. He would spend the afternoon talking to mamma, or going to her bedroom, and then he would leave.

Papà never stayed the entire night. He never showed up two days in a row.

And once spring was coming to an end, during the first days of July, he would leave and not come back for the rest of the year.

Vinnie was curious about the man. He was his papà after all ! But he never got to interact with him, never got to sit down and talk to him. He wanted to learn who he was, what he liked, why he was only here from time to time and why it was only during winter and spring…

Vinnie had tried asking his siblings about papà, but none of them gave him a satisfying answer.

Donnie was as lost as he was. He never had an opportunity to talk to papà, always afraid to run into mamma or to have Enzie yell at him for it.

Bettie looked at Vinnie with sad eyes, told him not to go see papà, that he was dangerous. When the brother asked why, the twelve years-old refused to answer.

As for Enzie…

Enzie didn’t like papà. He said papà was very dangerous, that he didn’t care about them, that the four kids shouldn’t waste their time with him.

Everytime the kids would stumble across him while walking through the house, papà would stop in his tracks to gaze at them with an indecipherable expression. Enzie would immediately shush his younger siblings away, all while glaring at the man. Sometimes, Vinnie would look at his papà and see him glare back at the teen.

While Vinnie didn’t know much about his papà, since he never got to interact with him, there was at least one thing he was sure of.

Enzie hated papà.

Papà hated Enzie.

And because of that, Enzie would never let his siblings approach him.

But one day, Vinnie got an occasion to talk to him.

Enzie was doing homework upstairs with Bettie. Now that the teenager was in high-school, and with the other siblings old enough to be unsupervised for a while, Enzie decided to spend more time working on his future. In the meantime, Bettie has chosen to step up and help him, looking after her younger siblings if needed.

But right now, neither of them was downstairs. Same thing for Donnie.

That was how Vinnie found himself peeking inside the living-room where his parents were. His papà was sitting on the couch with his arms and legs stretched out, while mamma seemed to be “making herself a drink” as Bettie called it. The child crouched down at the entrance and listened as his papà talked.

“-shouldn’t be there anyways.”

“You say the same thing every single year, Pietro. And yet, you always come crawling back to me. It’s been more than ten years. Just admit you can’t help it.”

“Just like you can’t help having your load of kids ? Do you have any idea how much they cost me ?!”

“You can stop sending me money any time you want.”, Vinnie could almost hear the laugh in her voice. “But I don’t think your little family will take it very well once I go to ask them for my money.”

Papà grumbled and looked away from her. “You’re the shittiest human being I ever met, Claudia. I hope you know that.”

“You’re no better yourself. Lying and cheating at any given chance. Honestly it’s a miracle she still doesn’t suspect a thing. You two really found each other. So naïve and in denial of the truth about the world. ~ ”

As mamma kept smirking and teasing papà, the man was getting more and more angry. Vinnie could see his hands gripping on the sofa, as if trying to rip it off. This made the child tense up at the prospect of his parents fighting.

“What now ?”, mamma suddenly spat in annoyance. The two adults glanced at Vinnie, and that’s when he realized that he had been anxiously tapping on the doorway’s wall, giving himself away with his noise.

“Umm…hi…”, Vinnie said in a quiet voice, waving awkwardly. Now that he had been caught spying, he might as well show himself more. Who knew, maybe this would be his only occasion ever to talk to papà !

Mamma just huffed and went back to pour her glass, while papà kept his eyes on the child.

“This is the youngest one, right ?”, papà asked. “Viviana ?”

“Vincenzo.”, mamma corrected before Vinnie could. “Turns out your daughter was a son this whole time.”

“And you changed her-his name, without my permission ?!”

“If you have a problem with that, you can talk to Enzo about it.”

Papà looked down, teeth gritted. “This child should learn a little respect.”, he spat.

“Have fun telling him that.”, mamma replied, completely impassive.

“Why don’t you at least try to teach that boy anything ?!”

“I don’t know. Why do you suddenly care about these children ?”, she shrugged. “Besides, Enzo’s almost an adult. He’s not my problem anymore.”

“You’re going to throw him out ?”

“He intends to throw himself out.”, mamma explained. “But maybe if you give us more financial support, he would have half a mind to stay.”, she joked. Papà was not amused at all.

The man punched the couch and fell silent, looking away from the mother and son. For a few moments, Vinnie just stood there, observing the man with hesitation. He knew he should be leaving, now. If Enzie saw him there, his older brother would kill him. But right now, as he felt so close to having a moment with the older man, his curiosity to meet his father was stronger than his fear of consequences.

Eventually, Vinnie saw papà’s fists unclench. This prompted the child to try and make a move. With hope to finally have a conversation with the man, Vinnie tentatively walked to the couch. When the man didn’t move, Vinnie put a hand on his knee.

Still no reaction.

Getting more and more hopeful, the six years-old hopped on his knees. Papà still didn’t move.

Well, it seemed like Vinnie had to start the conversation.

“I…um…”, Vinnie had his hands on his own knees, opening and closing his legs awkwardly as he thought of what to say. “I’m…I’m not Vivie anymore. I’m Vinnie now.”

No response.

After a few seconds, Vinnie started wondering if maybe his siblings were right. If maybe it would be better to just let it go and leave, especially seeing the dirty look mamma was giving him. But before the child could move, something he didn’t expect happened.

Papà put a hand on his back.

Vinnie froze and looked up. The man still wasn’t looking at him.

Without much thinking, Vinnie pressed his face against papà’s chest. Suddenly, the hand on his back start moving, reaching his shoulder and slowly rubbing it.

Vinnie looked up as papà looked down at his face. The child smiled but his gesture wasn’t reciprocated. The older man just seemed to study his face, keeping the same neutral expression.

Vinnie had no idea how much time wet by before papà decided to open his mouth.

“Why are you wearing those ?”, he asked, tapping the corner of Vinnie’s sunglasses.

Vinnie felt himself ready to jump in happiness. Papà was talking to him ! They were having an actual conversation ! He could learn more about him !

But instead, Vinnie did his best to stay calm, letting his only sign of excitement be the rapid movement of his legs. He really didn’t want to ruin the moment.

Besides, thinking of how papà had acted earlier made the child feel intimidated by the man.

“It’s..for my eyes.”, he explained. “The light is bad for my eyes. So I need to wear those. I also can’t see every color without them.”

“How did you get the money for that ?”, the man asked, glancing at mamma. “Why wasn’t I told about this ?”

“You would have known already if you spent more time here taking care of your children, since you suddenly seem to love them so much.”, she replied in a sharp tone. “Or would it be too suspicious for your dearest missus ? ~ ”

Papà didn’t replied, instead looking back at the child still in his lap. Vinnie didn’t really know what the adults were talking about, and he had a feeling it wasn’t something he was supposed to understand. If anybody were to take care of it, it would be Enzie.

Vinnie was still in his thoughts when papà lifted his head with a finger, taking a better look at his eyes. Remembering his experience at school, Vinnie instinctively grabbed the sides of his glasses in case papà tried to remove them.

“Your eyes…”, the man commented. “They’re different colors ?”

“Uh ? Oh ! Oh yes they are !”, Vinnie was quick to reply. He smiled again, seriously wondering why Enzie was so against them talking to papà. Sure, the man was a bit scary when talking with mamma, but at least he seemed to care about his son. More than mamma at least…Or, well, when he was around at least…

“Vincenzo ?”, papà was moving a hand in front of Vinnie’s face.

“Uh ? Oh ! right ! My eyes !”, Vinnie quickly pointed to his left eye, tapping the glass. “This one is blue. And this one-“, he pointed to his right eye. “is brown. Just like yours !”, he commented with a smile.

“…Sure.”

The man fell silent again and Vinnie looked down, trying to find another thing to say.

“…Sa-“

“VINNIE !”

Vinnie froze at the familiar and booming sound of his oldest brother’s voice.

Uh oh…

“Enz-“, papà tried.

“YOU GET AWAY FROM HIM !”

Enzie ran into the room, snatched the six years-old away and walked out, all while looking at the older man with a murderous stare. Vinnie was able to give one last glance at his parents before the door closed, seeing papà stare in confusion and anger at Enzie while mamma walked towards the man with the same impassive expression, as if she had expected something like that to happen.

With the door now closed, Enzie put his attention onto the scared child.

“WHAT WHERE YOU THINKING BEING WITH THEM ?!”

“I…I just wanted to talk to papà…”, Vinnie sheepishly replied, his head down.

“THAT MAN IS DANGEROUS, VINNIE !”

“But we were just talkin-“

“VINNIE !”

Vinnie fell quiet, finding himself unable to meet his brother’s gaze. He instead focused on the underside of the shirt he was gripping on.

After a few moments, Enzie managed to regain his composure. He sighed.

“Listen, Vinnie. I know you just want to talk to papà, but that man is a bad person. I’ve seen him hurt mamma before, he’s as dangerous as she is, if not more.”, Enzie lifted Vinnie’s head. “I just want you to be safe, polpetto, alright ?”, Vinnie nodded, still avoiding Enzie’s eyes. “Good.”, Enzie kissed his forehead. “Now let’s get back upstairs, alright ? I think I can already hear Donnie calling for you. ~ ”, the teen said in a way that Vinnie knew was an attempt to light up the mood.

“…Alright.”

Enzie held Vinnie’s hand as he led him to his bedroom. Vinnie just followed in silence, stuck into his own mind.

Enzie was a good person. He took care of Bettie, Donnie and him.

Enzie hated papà, and papà hated Enzie.

But did that really mean that papà was a bad person ?

Was there really no way he could prove that papà was better than Enzie thought ?

…

…Will Vinnie ever get the occasion to talk to him again ?

---------------

April 10, 2137

Enzie and Bettie talked a lot when they were doing homework. Sometimes, Vinnie would hide behind the office’s door to listen to them.

They talked about all kinds of topics. From school to the girls Bettie liked to even Donnie and Vinnie and how annoying the brothers could be at times, making the older duo feel exhausted.

But other times, they would talk about their parents, about how they felt about them.

It was obvious that Enzie hated those kinds of talks. But at the same time, he always seemed to use Bettie’s curiosity as an occasion to tell her to avoid being around them.

Bettie mostly asked questions about the relationship between her parents and why they acted the way they did. Enzie answered as best as he could, but even he barely knew about them.

However, among the flow of questions Vinnie heard Bettie ask, one in particular stood out to him.

Does mamma have other men in her life ? Does the four of us come from the same papà ?

When she asked this, Bettie was mostly talking about Donnie and how different the eight years-old looked compared to his siblings.

Curious, Vinnie started to pay attention to the facial features of his family and, soon enough, the six years-old understood what his sister meant :

Out of all of them, Donnie was the only one who didn’t look like papà at all.

Enzie was almost a perfect replica of papà. He had the man’s square chin and nose, his thick eyebrows that were more than often furrowed, along with papà’s curly hair that, in Enzie’s case, was slowly growing past his shoulders. Vinnie wondered how much the sixteen years-old hated looking so much like the man he despised more than anyone else. The only real difference between the men was color, with Enzie having mamma’s black hair and blue eyes where papà had brown eyes and light brown hair.

Vinnie was the second closest to papà. Just like Enzie, he had his old man’s chin, nose and curly hair, though his chin wasn’t as pronounced as his oldest brother. Vinnie even had a brown eye and brown hair, even if his hair was darker than papà’s. Aside from that, the child had one blue eye, like mamma’s, and his eyebrows were not as thick as papà’s or Enzie’s.

Bettie, on the other hand, was more of a mix of her parents. While she had a square chin, it was less pronounced, like for Vinnie. She also had mamma’s smaller nose and eyebrows. For the rest, it was all papà’s. She had his brown eyes and curly hair, which she almost always tied into a bun.

Finally, there was Donnie, who couldn’t be more alike to mamma. He had her rounder head, smaller nose, thin eyebrows and her long straight raven hair that he kept in a ponytail. The only thing that made him different from her, aside from height, voice and personality, was his brown eyes that deferred from her ocean blue ones. Though, as Bettie had pointed it out, a lot of people had brown eyes. From her point of view, any man with brown eyes could be Donnie’s father.

Vinnie never talked about it to Donnie. He didn’t feel the need to.

Even if he did wonder sometimes if they had the same father, it didn’t change the fact that Donnie was his big brother. That Donnie was his best friend and favorite playmate.

Papà or not, Vinnie loved Donnie as much as he loved Bettie and Enzie. If not more.

---------------

November 15, 2138

Today was the day.

It was Enzie’s 18th birthday. The day everything was going to get better. The day they were finally getting away from mamma and papà !

The oldest brother had been talking about it to his siblings for months. Now that he was an adult, he could “have custody of you three instead of losing you to the system”, as he said. Vinnie wasn’t sure if he fully understood what Enzie meant. At least there was one thing he was sure of.

Enzie was trying to protect them no matter the cost. He was willing to do anything for them.

That’s what led the four of them into a lawyer’s office.

Mamma was there with them. As far as Vinnie knew, she hadn’t shown any objections to her son’s decision and even wanted to help his case, claiming that the fastest the trial would go, the less money she would have to waste.

Mamma was sitting in one of the two chairs of the small office. Vinnie and Donnie were sharing the second one, the two oldest siblings standing between them and their mother. Vinnie was bouncing his legs, squirming a bit in his chair. Several times, Bettie gently nudged him, telling him to stand still, but he simply couldn’t do it.

He was bored.

Enzie and the lawyer were talking things Vinnie didn’t understand. And when he understood, his mind would quickly end up zoning out. He mostly thought about how papà was supposed to be here, wondering what was taking the man so long.

He wished he had his toys with him right now. Or anything else that could distract him.

It was during a short moment of focus that Vinnie heard the footsteps coming from the hall, getting louder and louder.

The door busted open, revealing a woman the eight years-old had never met before. She had long frizzy brown hair that was slowly falling back on her shoulders after her running. As she entered the room, she pushed her glasses back onto her nose and looked around until her emerald eyes landed on mamma. She glared at the black-haired lady.

“I had to see it with my own eyes to believe it !”, the new woman said.

“Missus Dakota, I presume ?”, mamma replied. She was sitting cross-legged, her arms folded and her eyes closed, seemingly completely unfazed by what was happening. This confused Vinnie. How could she be so calm when some stranger was yelling at her ?

The child, on the other hand, was glancing in fear at the new lady. When the door had opened, he instinctively took hold of Donnie’s shirt. The ten years-old had been quick to return the gesture. Meanwhile, Bettie had gotten closer to the chair while Enzie stood between the three of them and the door, arms stretched protectively.

“To think this all went under my nose for EIGHTEEN YEARS !”, the lady continued. Vinnie’s grip on his brother’s shirt tightened. The lady was taller than mamma, somehow making her even more intimidating in the moment.

Before mamma could reply, new footsteps could be heard outside. Despite the commotion in the room, all eyes turned towards the door. Two children peeked inside the room. They looked around the same ages as Donnie and Vinnie. But more importantly, their features looked awfully familiar to Vinnie.

Enzie was the first to react.

“Who the hell are you ?!”, he yelled, pointing at the two children. “Who are all of you and what are you doing here ?!”

Before the lady could answer, papà finally arrived, looking at her with an uncertain gaze.

“Serena, you shouldn-“, he tried gently.

“DON’T YOU TRY FINDING EXCUSES !”, the lady replied, her anger now directed towards papà. “HOW DARE YOU HIDE ME ALL THIS ?!”, she continued to yell, cutting papà everytime he was opening his mouth.

Vinnie started feeling tears form at the corner of his eyes. He was scared. Overwhelmed. He had no idea what was happening aside from “the adults are all fighting”. So naturally, the eight years-old turned his attention towards the one new adult that was always there when he was feeling upset. He moved to sit with his chest against the chair’s back, gripping it tightly. From here, he had a good view of his eldest brother.

Surely Enzie had the solution to all this. Surely he could make it all better.

At least, that was what Vinnie hoped.

The oldest brother was looking between the different adults in disbelief. Suddenly, he froze with a look of horror, as if he had just understood something really, really bad.

“YOU HAD A WIFE THIS WHOLE TIME ?!”

Somehow, Enzie’s booming voice managed to quiet the fighting. The lady -Serena- looked at him in confusion for a second, until her face bared the same shocked expression as the oldest brother.

“You didn’t know…?”, her whisper was barely audible. She glanced at the rest of the siblings. “None of you did…?”, while Vinnie believed she was still angry and could blow at any instant, he felt like there was a hint of sadness in her voice. Was she feeling pity for them ? Why for ? What did Enzie meant ? With everything happening, Vinnie found himself unable to follow.

“Bettina.”, mamma suddenly interrupted. Serena’s expression immediately darkened, as if she had just remembered the other woman was in the room. “Why don’t you take your younger siblings outside ? The adults are talking, and there’s already enough shouting as it stands.”

“I…um”, Bettie glanced at Enzie. The older brother put a hand on her shoulder and Vinnie could hear him whisper “go”. “Alright. Yeah.”, she turned to the boys still on the chair. “Come on, ometti. Let’s go to that playground we saw on the way in.”

Donnie and Vinnie shared a confused look before getting down the chair. The room was deadly silent as Bettie took their hands and led them out, under the adults’ gazes.

Right before the door closed behind them, Vinnie turned around one last time, seeing the adults ready to go at it again under the confused and concerned look of the lawyer.

He hoped Enzie would be alright…

--------------

December 3, 2138

The case had been taken into court. There had been a trial already, during which each sibling had been asked to testify about their living conditions. The younger trio spent their entire time talking about how their oldest brother had been taking care of them for as long as they could remember.

Vinnie didn’t know how to feel about all this. He had a hard time understanding everything. But most importantly, he was getting impatient.

It was obvious that mamma was bad at taking care of them. Why couldn’t the judge see it already ? They should already be on the road by now ! The eight years-old and his brother Donnie had already started to pack. Somehow, they hoped it could make things go faster.

The whole situation had also taken a toll on Vinnie’s grades. He already had trouble at school, between barely finding the motivation to do any homework unless someone was helping him and being seen by his teachers as agitated, more so than the other kids. And now that he had to worry about where he will end up soon, Vinnie simply couldn’t help zoning out in class to think about it.

And after the first trial, it only grew worse.

His teachers had gotten angry and started punishing him for it.

Vinnie couldn’t wait for Enzie to take them away.

…

…Enzie…

These last weeks, the older brother had been…distant. He spent all of his free-time in the office, working on his case. He only helped his siblings with basic things. Mostly food.

But more than that, the eighteen years-old had gotten more aggressive towards his parents since that day in the lawyer’s office. He couldn’t stand being downstairs if mamma was around. He was insulting them at any given chance, including during the trial they had had.

Enzie was also trying to get things to go as fast as possible. He absolutely wanted to leave before spring, before papà was around again.

Or so Vinnie thought he did.

According to Bettie, papà wasn’t going to ever come back home. At first, when the youngest brothers asked why, she refused to answer.

It had been like this ever since the day they met the lawyer. When they came back home that day, Enzie locked himself in a room, eventually letting Bettie in to tell her everything. The two then refused to explain the situation to their brothers.

That was, until one day.

Enzie had come back home, looking more stressed than usual. When Bettie went to ask if everything was alright, he snapped at her -something about their parents being the absolute worst-, and went to lock himself in the office. After that, Bettie had gone back to the bedroom, clearly upset by it all. And when Donnie and Vinnie asked her what Enzie meant, she told them the truth that forever changed Vinnie’s perception of his father :

Their parents never loved them. They never wanted them. At least, not the way they were meant to be wanted.

Their mother was a drug dealer, a criminal. There wasn’t a single penny she earned honestly. Her whole life revolved around getting money through schemes.

As it turned out, having children had been one of those schemes.

Mamma and papà met in an alley, in the middle of the night. Mamma had been out to sell illegal substances. Papà had gotten bored being home alone. His wife, Serena Dakota, had a job that led her to leave the country between January and July. They hadn’t been married for long when mamma and papà met. Bettie said it might have been a reason for his actions.

Papà “wanted a good time”, as Bettie said. He was out to meet a few women, doing things the older sister refused to explain to her brothers.

It was while looking for those women that papà ran into mamma. And when she heard what he wanted, she decided to use the situation to her advantage.

“She held him at gunpoint.”, Bettie explained to them. “The first night, Mamma had looked to steal his phone while he was sleeping and found the wedding ring he had been hiding in his jacket. She used that to blackmail him once Enzie was on the way.”

At first, papà had been happy to spend time with mamma. But then, his wife came home and they had to stop seeing each other. A month later, mamma called him out of nowhere.

She was pregnant.

According to Bettie, this had never been papà’s plan. Mamma had promised him that she was being careful. But, as per usual, mamma lied.

Knowing the child was his, she had been able to get money from him, threatening to reveal his secret to his wife. In exchange, papà only asked for two things : being the one to name them, and being able to visit them whenever.

The money had been the reason why mamma would sometimes go out with them or make sure they had good enough clothes or even prevent any of them from dying. She had to pretend like she liked her children. She needed people to believe they were one happy family, or else someone could call child services and “take away her safest source of income”. And while papà visiting them wasn’t part of her plan, it still at least helped her hiding the reality of her parenting.

Bettie believed that papà felt bad for them. The reason why he visited wasn’t because mamma forced him to be there. Sometimes, he just wanted to see his children, make sure they were still alive and well.

This was no excuse.

Even with Enzie’s warryness, he had had dozens of chances to talk to them, to be there for them.

At any moment, he could have said the truth to his wife. Instead, he lied to her. He kept her in the dark and made sure she still loved him. He had children with her, children he took care of. Children he loved.

Children he had chosen the name of years before they were born. Names he made sure none of his “other kids” had.

As he was hearing the truth, Vinnie felt like his parents had just thrown one of their bottles on his body, the glass piercing through his chest. For the following hour after Bettie finished explaining, Vinnie had felt empty. He ended up lying in Bettie’s arms, completely frozen, completely unfazed by the world around him.

Enzie was right.

Enzie had always been right.

Their parents were dangerous. Their parents never loved them. Their parents couldn’t care any less about them.

There was no point trying to get their attention, trying to get their affection. They were heartless. They never had the space in their hearts for him.

Vinnie was an unwanted child. They all were.

They were children born from an affair. Used by their monstrous mother to get money from their unconcerned father.

Enzie had been right all along.

…

From now on, Vinnie would listen to Enzie. He would listen to everything his older brother says.

Unlike his parents, Enzie loved him. Enzie wanted what was best for him.

Enzie was the only parent he needed.

---------------

March 22, 2139

“It had been clear for a long time now that Ms. Claudia Drowssap and Mr. Pietro Dakota are not fit to take care of their biological children. However, the question of whether or not Mr. Enzo Dakota could take care of said children had yet to be answered. Today, we have chosen an answer to this question.

While we still remain uncertain of his abilities to provide for them, this court had been told that Mr. Dakota found job opportunities along with possible apartments in Napoli. Furthermore, it is painfully obvious that Mr. Dakota is incredibly attached to his siblings and had been their only anchor for most of their life. For their own well-being as well as his, we believe that separating the four of them is out of the question.

Thus, this court is ready to give its judgment. The custody of the present Bettina, Donatello and Vincenzo Dakota will be granted to their brother Mr. Enzo Dakota. Their parents, Ms. Claudia Drowssap and Mr. Pietro Dakota, will have to repair their inaptitude by paying child support for the next five years. Furthermore, Ms. Drowssap and Mr. Dakota Sr are not to be allowed to visit their children. Finally, they will not be able to keep any other child they may have in the future.

If Mr. Dakota Jr decides to file a claim for child abuse, more consequences might come their way.

This court is adjourned.”

Vinnie couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

They did it.

They really did it !

The banging of the gavel resonated across the room, announcing the end of this session. The end of their last session. Vinnie jumped out of his seat, seeing from the corner of his eyes that he wasn’t the only one. As soon as the way was cleared enough, Bettie and Donnie ran towards Enzie. The youngest sibling immediately followed suit.

They jumped into his arms, all smiles and laughs. Even after they pulled away, the happy chatter remained. Bettie congratulated Enzie excitedly while Donnie was holding onto her, pushing her back and forth. Vinnie himself was jumping in place, his fists shaking left and right in excitement.

They were finally free ! They could finally get away from mamma and papà !

After a few more moments of celebration, Enzie led the group outside. They had to go home and pack up. The oldest brother told them they would leave as soon as possible.

“ENZO !”

The siblings had barely finished walking down the stairs when they saw papà walking towards them. The man was walking fast, teeth gritted and fists clenched, looking at his oldest son with a murderous glare.

Enzie stood in front of his younger siblings, shielding them with his arms. Afraid, Vinnie went to hug Donnie. When papà was only a few steps away, the eight years-old closed his eyes. He heard the footsteps stop, followed by ruffling and a short grunt. Vinnie felt Donnie tense.

“Are you happy with yourself ?! Are you proud of what you did ?!”

Vinnie dared opening his eyes and almost gasped. Papà had grabbed Enzie by the collar.

“Because of you, I lost my wife ! I lost my home ! I might even lose my job ! All because YOU decided to get involved in MY business !”

“All I did was trying to survive !”, Enzie replied, returning papà’s glare. “I’ll never apologize for that.”

“YOU RUINED MY LIFE !”

“YOU RUINED YOUR OWN LIFE !”, Enzie pushed papà away from him. The older man raised a fist but didn’t hit his son. Instead, he looked as the younger trio protectively put their hands on Enzie.

“Go.”, Bettie spoke up with a shaking voice. “Leave us alone.”

“…”, papà’s glare was now directed at the four of them. “You are all nothing but a bunch of ungrateful bastards.”, he growled.

“What should we be grateful for ?”, Vinnie surprised himself by deciding to speak. He knew he shouldn’t. Papà was dangerous, he could clearly see it right now. Enzie had been right about that, just like for anything else. And Enzie had told him never to talk to papà again.

And yet, the child couldn’t stop the words from flowing out of his mouth.

“Have you ever done anything to us ?! Have you ever cared for us ?! DO YOU EVEN LOVE US ?!”

Vinnie felt tears stream down his cheeks. He started sobbing.

“Vinnie…”, Donnie murmured. The ten years-old held his younger sibling. “shhh. It’s okay.”, he soothed. “It’s okay to cry.”, Donnie let a hand gently run into Vinnie’s hair, copying the way their oldest brother comforted them. The youngest sibling leaned into the embrace, crying into Donnie’s shirt. When he tried opening his eyes, he noticed that papà was looking away, seemingly more upset than angry after what his son said.

Enzie was the one to break the silence.

“You’re dead to us.”, he spat. “Don’t ever try to see us again, or they’ll be consequences. And if you don’t keep paying for support, I’ll sue for the child neglect.”, he threatened. “If you think your life is already ruined, you’re not ready for the hell I’m ready to put you through if you ever DARE try anything against us.”

The two men glared at each other for what felt like forever. Enzie’s last words kept replaying in Vinnie’s head. He wondered with dread how serious his older brother was, how far he was willing to go for them.

Finally, after a painfully long silence, papà started to back away. He walked a certain distance, glared at his chil- at them one last time, and turned away.

Enzie snorted. “Come on.”, he told his siblings. “Let’s go home. We have a lot to do if we want to leave.”

The oldest brother started to walk away, soon followed by his sister. Donnie and Vinnie looked at each other as they pulled away from their hug, before finally following the older duo.

As he followed the group, Vinnie couldn’t help but look around him, look back at the older man.

From afar, the eight years-old noticed mamma. She was looking at the man as well.

Despite everything that had happened, she was smiling.

-------------------------

Note : Regarding Vinnie being trans, I’m well-aware that someone doesn’t “become” a boy, they’ve always been one. But since Vinnie is 5 when he realizes that he’s a man, the characters simplify it to “becoming a boy” so that Vinnie can understand easily.

Italian translations :

Mamma : mom

Papà : dad

Piccolina : little one (female)

Polpetto : meatball (apparently it’s a nickname for young kids/siblings)

Patatino : little potato (for some reason I love this nickname)

Ometto : little man (ometti is plural)

Piccino : tiny one

6 notes · View notes

atendersun-archived · 3 years

Text

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

FULL NAME. Mason Uri Thompson

NICKNAME. Muu

GENDER. Male.

HEIGHT. 5′9″

AGE. 25

ZODIAC. Pisces

SPOKEN LANGUAGES. English is his primary language. Japan is secondary and verse dependent.

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬

HAIR COLOR. Blond

EYE COLOR. Brown-Green hazel

SKIN TONE. Fair, but with a pink, rosy undertone.

BODY TYPE. Mesomorph. His legs, back, and chest are the most muscular, while his arms trail behind as the leanest parts of his body.

VOICE. Is of average deepness at his normal speaking level, but raises when he’s nervous, or sad. His defense mechanism in stressful situations is to make himself appear smaller for safety purposes, but he’s working on being more aware of it.

DOMINANT HAND. Left

POSTURE. Somewhat arched. Having spent a lengthy amount of his time hunched over in an effort to take up less space as a person has had some life term effects on his posture. He does wear a bright blue brace for about thirty minutes a couple times a week to train his back to stay more upright, but he still finds himself slouching in the presence of people that unknowingly intimated him.

SCARS. He has a round shaped scar on his left arm from an incident with a colleague nearly from about five years earlier, so it has a lot time to heal to the point of being far less noticeable than it was when he first acquired it. There are also some very, very faded scars along his lower back from being unintentionally attacked by a dog as a child. He’d startled it when trying to retrieve a toy from a neighbor’s yard, and instigated a chase when he ran away. It was a small poodle.

TATTOOS. On the inside of his right arm is a tattoo is of very cartoony version of the character Oh from the movie Home. When he was very lonely, and down on himself, it became it his comfort film. He related a lot to the alien character of the film. When on a whim, he decided to get a tattoo, he knew he wanted it to be of something with a lot of meaning to him, but also something that would strike a sense of familiarity to those who also felt like they were an Oh in the world too.

BIRTHMARKS. On the side of his upper left leg, quite close to his butt in fact, is a small, circular mark with tiny, darker colored dots within it. If looked at the right angle, it almost appears to a smiley face. As kind of odd as it is, he really likes his birthmark, and the location it resides on. For a very long time, he held a lot hatred for his lower body for things that took a lot of counseling to come to terms with. Nowadays, he’s far too comfortable pulling down the back of pants just enough to flash his birthmark to people.

MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). In the sunny, warm seasons of the year, he tends to get freckles that scatter primarily across his nose and his arms. They cease to be noticeable come late fall only to reappear after the rainy parts of spring.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝

PLACE OF BIRTH. From what he’d been told by his grandparents, he had been born while his father and mother still resided on a military base somewhere within the outskirts of Phoenix, Arizona. After circumstances leading to the questioning of his mother’s parenting abilities, both him and his brother were relocated states away to live with their paternal grandparents once their father released custody to them in order for him to join the Navy.

HOMETOWN. Verse Dependent

SIBLINGS. An older brother named Matthew who is about two years older than himself.

PARENTS. His mother is entirely absent from his life after a string of broken promises that she’d gotten her life together enough to be a good mom to him, while his father and him are just distant from having very little in common with another. They can hold civil conversations with one another when they interact for brief moments at family get togethers, but he still is far closer to his grandmother than he is with any other parental figure in his life.

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

OCCUPATION. Preschool teacher at a daycare center for children between the ages of 6 weeks old to 6 years old. He never imagined himself as ever working with children, because quite frankly they kind of scared him at one point, but he loves his job more than he would have ever expected.

CURRENT RESIDENCE. He lives alone in a very spacious home that was actually leased to him when the man knew the younger was seeking out a place to live after an end to a relationship. His favorite thing in all of his home is the very large bath tub. It is far more comparable to a pool than a tub, but he has not yet had anything occur where he questioned downsizing it.

CLOSE FRIENDS. All of ‘em. Every last one of them. He has been especially grateful for the opportunities to reconnect with Hisao @angstiism, Hannah @kannojo, Alex @dis--parity, Pchan @nvrcmplt, and Yukio @silvxcs. Someday, when he grows the guts to meet with and check up on some old, familiar faces, such as Archer at @sonderrow, and Nicole @gamenu, he’d like to just listen intently in regards to where life has led them. He also is blossoming in the new friendships he is forming with new people.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS. Verse Dependent.

FINANCIAL STATUS. He falls somewhere on the back end of middle class, yet he doesn’t really mind. It is familiar for him enough that he has learned how to make do without having a lot of money left over. It is for the best, really, because he still remembers very much so the ridiculous amount of money he’d spent only on pudding and snacks many years ago.

DRIVER’S LICENSE. No. He’s terrified to learn how to drive, so he just makes do with either walking, riding the bus, and sometimes even riding his bike if he has the energy to do so.

CRIMINAL RECORD. Clean. He’d like to say he’s done some wild things that have gone untraced, but the most adventurous he’s ever gotten was the time he stole a Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal from a store in the mall. He later went back to pay for it out of guilt, so even that one doesn’t particularly count.

VICES. The constant need to be busy doing something to give his brain far less of a chance to dwell on things he is not satisfied with dwelling on. Maintaining an active and creative lifestyle are very important to him. Otherwise, in the event he does sink to an unexpected low, he tends to build himself back up by indulging in activities that brought him peace as a child. Doodling, watching cartoons, buying random things online from things he watched a kid to boost serotonin. His latest thing is to actually read poetry. He finds it really enjoyable to see something on a page that artistically expresses thoughts he can relate to, and has since started to collect an abundance of poetry books.

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. He identifies under the queer label. He doesn’t really know for certain where he falls in terms of sexual attraction, since frankly he went years without even getting close to it, but he does know that he has deep feelings for all kinds of people underneath other categories of attraction. A more descriptive way of describing himself would be to say demisexual panromantic, but he prefers to use queer.

PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE. Honestly, he really just thrives on fulfilling whatever role his partners request. He loves to care for people to immeasurable bounds, while shifting to a relaxed, or sometimes needier side of himself when the roles are reversed.

PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. He’ll tell you he’s a switch with a preference for topping, but in reality he is a switch with a preference for literally doing whatever the person he feels comfort and admiration for enough to get to that level with them in the first place. He does get a tad bitter when people make suggestions that he doesn’t have the assertiveness to be the dominant partner in those types of relations, and is therefore trying to education himself as much as he can on the overall process before he can even consider taking the reigns like that in real time.

LIBIDO. For the most part, very low. In his main timelines, he has gone seven years without going completely all the way with another person out of a fear of what could follow after that level of intimacy. He doesn’t necessarily have those same fears, but he does feel completely out of the loop in comparison to peers of his who have far more experience than he does. He is at least putting a lot of effort and thoughtfulness into being a more sex positive person, so in time he believes he will reach a point where he will have an average adult male libido.

TURN ON’S. Words of encouragement and affirmation, undivided attention, and playfulness are the primarily ones. Even if it doesn’t always sound exciting in its application, Mason actually finds it really helpful when a partner either verbally describes why and where they are touching him, or how they want him to touch them instead, because it gives a complete sense of clarity and consent. He’s admittedly very inexperienced and clueless, so being shown AND told are clearer in his mind than just being left to try and plan out his next move with limited reference.

TURN OFF’S. Dirty talk. Being called things like whore, slut, or other demeaning names while having sex not only turns him off, but it also really hurts his feelings even when it is jokingly implied that he is being labeled something bad. He also does not really like being referred to things such as little boy, bitch, baby boy. He doesn’t mind being called Baby when it is used to be an affectionate pet name, and he is so much of a sucker for being complimented on, that he’d probably not even bat an eye if someone playfully called him Princess. Just not around other people, because he takes his pride in being a top-man very seriously.

IMPORTANT RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. His main two love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch, while the others typically fall not too far behind. He also really just loves the ability to spend time with another person where both people are doing their own thing together. Those moments when he can just glance over to see the twitch of his partner’s lips, or the squinting of their eyes when they get seriously invested in their passion are very meaningful to him. He is also aware that he comes with things that are not always the easiest to love, such as heavy subjects spoken only about in serious conversations, and in the days that are harder to get out of bed than others, so he tries to actively make up for it in the ways he knows how. He’ll often take over the bulk of the work around the house and yard. As a man with a little bit of knowledge about a lot of topics, and a lot of love to give around to make up the difference, he seeks to love and be loved unconditionally by putting in all of his effort to doing whatever he knows will bring the people he is dating complete happiness.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. Here I am Alive, by Yellowcard and Way Less Sad, by AJR.

HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. Learning how to play the ukulele, drawing, listening to music, playing videogames from time to time, and texting his friends.

LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. Right.

PHOBIAS. He really doesn’t have any of the same intense, yet irrational fears as he did as a young man, so it is a lot more difficult for him to pinpoint whether or not he has any remaining phobias. In some ways, the fears of rejection and abandonment still linger at the back of his mind from time to time. Otherwise, he would likely only become of just how terrifyingly ingrained something was to him at the exact moment he was face to face with it. Additionally, he does not hold any trust towards demons, and would scream profusely if he was locked in a room with one, but he refuses to admit that he finds them scary out of spite.

SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. For the most part, it is pretty comparable to the self confidence level he had as an innocent, wildly curious teenager, and is a thousand percent better than when he was experiencing the complete lack of self esteem that came with the depression of his very early twenties. He still wrangles with moments of issues of self worth and blaming himself for things that he is slowly becoming to terms with being the result of other people’s problems instead of his own, but they are at least only on very few occasions. Saying he necessarily loves himself would really likely come down to who he is present with at the time, because in some circumstances he believes saying such a thing would lead to him being punished for reasons he might not be able to explain.

VULNERABILITIES. Expressing his feelings to people. He spends a lot of energy dreading the possibilities that can occur by him being anything but kind and happy around the people in his life. He takes no pride in thinking that he’d some way be passing on his troubles onto another person, thus making them take on part of his low as they go about their own day. Logically, he knows that the likelihood of someone physically striking him for expressing his emotions are low, but internally he knows why that sense of fear is there in the first place. He’d rather be a person who is openly loved and feels internally than be someone who feels openly and is not loved at all. It is very telling of his complete trust in another person when he cries around them.

#hisheadcanons #im a bum so im not gonna tag anyone but i really welcome anyone to also do it for their muse #i for one used my grubby hands to take it as an opportunity to ramble on about muu for forever so

11 notes · View notes

uh-drarry · 4 years

Text

Harry/Ron/Neville/Hermione Friendship Headcanon

Masterlist

Hermione moves into the neighborhood when they’re 8 years old.

Harry opens up to her quicker than he did with the boys. Mostly because it’s been awhile since anyone has treated him like Dudley did. He’s also noticed that her skin was like his, and that some boys were mean to her and he doesn’t want anyone treated like he was.

Ron and Neville are weary of the friendship for a little while. One, she’s a girl, have you ever heard of cooties? Also because they’re very protective of Harry.

She ends up proving herself to them when some kids are mean to Harry when they’re not around, and she yells at them. She’s been a part of the group ever since that moment.

They all quickly become best friends and spend all the time they can together.

When out on the playground together, Hermione often braided Harry’s hair and taught him how to braid hers. The other two let them try to braid their short hair and they always think that’s hilarious.

Neville taught them how to make flower crowns and Ron was actually the best at making them.

They all eventually learn how to help Harry through panic attacks. First Ron, then Harry had one on the playground one time and Neville wanted to learn how to help after that day because who knew what would’ve happened if Ron wasn’t there and Neville wasn’t there to get a teacher.

Harry gets embarrassed when he has them in public spaces but does feel better about it when his dads, Ron, Neville, or Hermione are there.

When Hermione first notices something is wrong with Harry, they’re playing in Harry’s room and the other two boys weren’t there that day. She asks him what’s wrong and he was able to ask for his dads.

Hermione ran out of Harry’s room and yelled “Sirius, Remus! Something is wrong with Harry!”

They of course drop everything and run up to his room to help him. Hermione could only watch and when everything was calm again she asked what happened and how could she help Harry next time. Then she gives Harry a hug and tells him she loves him and they watch a movie together after that.

Eventually when they’re a little older, Harry tells them why he gets the panic attacks. He tells them they’re usually triggered by being stuck somewhere or being chased. They ask him questions and he answers with what he remembers of his time with the Dursleys. He tells them about being starved, locked in the cupboard, bruised, etc. They eventually all cry and pile onto Harry in a big friend puddle to comfort him and let him know they love him forever and they’ll always be there for him.

Hermione often got teased about having only guy friends or her appearance and didn’t tell the boys about it. She didn’t want them to think less about her because of it. When Harry overheard someone harassing her, he got very upset and said some things he probably shouldn’t have said. He took Hermione to the teacher and held her hand while she explained what was happening. When Ron and Neville found out, they all buried her in a group hug and told her she was awesome and they loved her. She felt much better about her place in the group after that day and always told them if she had a problem in the future.

They became much more affectionate after that.

The boys weren’t afraid to hug, snuggle, or kiss each other's cheeks, etc. Hermione of course did all this as well.

When they’re maybe 12, they make an official pact to always be friends, to talk through problems if they have them and not let them fester, and they always have to end an argument and make up/apology with a hug.

They actually stick to this agreement.

When they all eventually get phones, they have them set so it’ll always ring if one of the four ever calls so they can always be there for each other like they promised.

When Ron and Hermione bicker, Neville and Harry will just look at each other and then go do their own thing together until the spat is over.

A lot of times, Ron and Hermione will just find them cuddled together and napping. Harry would always fall asleep on someone who ran their hands through his hair. His friends did it often.

The four are always hanging out at Grimmuald Place, and when they’re older they’ll hang out there even when Harry isn’t there. Remus and Sirius are like their uncles at this point and they all love hanging around each other.

They probably all got jobs at Sirius’s coffee shop.

They always get free things at the cafe, they can’t actually recall ever paying for anything. The workers are taught to not take their money. Hermione will always try of course and it has become a game to see who can get the most money into the tip jar without Sirius noticing. They’ve gotten $19.65 in the jar in 3.5 years of all four of them trying.

They all decided at some point that they wanted to go to East London Uni together. So they could go to school together and also because Remus teaches there of course. And it’s close to home.

They all encourage each other’s passions. Even when other people get annoyed by them.

They all come out to each other first.

They think it’s funny that none of them turned out straight.

First Harry told them he was going to marry a boy when he was older and claimed he was gay like his dads. He wanted a love like theirs. He was 13.

Second was Hermione when they were 15. She got her hands on books and such when she was curious and ended up realizing she was a lot like some of these queer girls and that she had a major crush on Elizabeth Swan from Pirates of the Caribbean.

Third was actually Harry again. His Bisexual awakening. He was talking to Hermione about some of her crushes and she would talk about why she liked them, and he realized he liked a lot of the same things and maybe he had a bit of a crush on some female actresses too. He was worried for a little while that he was actually only attracted to women and not guys. That maybe he had totally messed up and he only thought he liked guys because his dads did and he wanted to be like them. But then he spent a while at Ron’s house one summer with the other three and Ron’s brother Charlie came home from Romania (therefore Harry didn’t see him often) for a week or so. Harry, a dumbass, walked into the occupied bathroom when Charlie was drying off from a shower and froze and turned very red. He then yelled an apology, and ran back to Ron’s room and buried himself in his pillow and yelled about being bisexual and screaming a little about it too. The other three just laughed at him. Harry couldn’t look at Charlie the rest of the time he was staying at the Weasley’s house. They were 17.

Fourth was Ron. Viktor Krum was an exchange student for the year and very very handsome. They were friendly and Ron was always red around him. Ron talked to his friends about Krum a lot. They thought it was cute and encouraged Ron to ask him out but he never found the courage. They were still 17.

Fifth and last but not least is Neville. He’d been pretty sure for awhile that he preferred boys but he was somewhat confused as well because well he didn’t think he was sexually attracted to them or anyone really. He liked the idea of kissing a guy he was dating but it made him uncomfortable to think about anything further than that. He eventually went to his friends asking them if something was wrong. Hermione of course immediately asked if he was asexual and then explained what it meant. Neville thought maybe that was right. Ron claimed that Charlie was asexual and they ended up calling him and letting Neville talk about some of this with Charlie who had immediately agreed to chat for a bit. Neville felt 10 times better about himself after talking to his friends and Charlie and started saying he was asexual after that. They, again, were 17. (A big year for them.)

Harry and Hermione would sometimes chat about girls and who they thought was cute but then Ron and Neville would laugh and say “Excuse me but this is a hetero free zone. *cough* Harry *cough.*” Harry would then turn to one of the guys, usually the one that said something and do something like sit on their laps, kiss them briefly, or propose to them and then ask if that was gay enough for them.

One time Ron actually kissed him back and they did that for a bit. When they separated Harry smacked Ron’s ass and just said “no homo.” They all know they are only friends, they don’t feel romantic attraction to each other and never have.

Despite that, Harry has definitely at least made out with all three of the others.

The four have bestie tattoos. They all went together when they were all of legal age.

Hermione loved it and proceeded to get many more. At least one of the boys always went with her for support even though she didn’t need it.

Ron remains the only one with the single tattoo.

Hermione often gets exasperated by the boys but she loves all of them and tries to help when she can.

Throughout school they often slept over at Harry’s before big tests to study together and this continued into college when they did have classes together.

They really didn’t have secrets between each other. They are all very critical of people the others are dating until they can prove themselves however that happens. It hasn’t often happened that they approve of them before the couple breaks up.

They really don’t know what they’d do without the others in their lives.

---

Thank you for reading! I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope you all enjoy and are staying safe and healthy. Thank you again for all my followers I love you all. Let me know your thoughts?

Harry/Ron/Neville Friendship Post

Masterlist

Tags: @pan-and-ready-to-stan @spaceaas @abstractundefined @afanbloglikeanother @meandminniemcg

#Harry Potter #harry #Ron Weasley #Ron #neville #Neville Longbottom #Hermione Granger #hermione #golden trio #hogwarts #harry potter headcanon #wolfstar raise harry potter #dad wolfstar #wolfstar adopting harry #wolfstar raise harry

151 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs