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tyunniez · 3 months

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converse high... bttm male reader

!!.. this has to be my worst work yet,, uhh rough sex, creampie, kinda vanilla ngl, not proofread idfk also bts ref borahae 💜

you jumped around in excitement to see one of your favorite group is finally going on tour! and they're coming to your city!

you immediately rushed to check the tickets, choosing the vip standing seat. " wait, how much money do I have left? " you stopped yourself before making a bad decision.

you looked at your bank account and almost passed out. you're broke as hell.

" why the hell am I so broke? " you questioned yourself, trying to find a genuine reason.

you scanned throughout your room till your eyes landed on your closet. " ah. that's why. "

multiple articles of clothing brimmed your closet causing it to overfill, making you slightly grimace at how your clothing rail was holding on for its dear life.

you recently went on another shopping haul after seeing your favorite idol adorning a new collection that was released by your favorite fashion brand.

you just had to get it.

yeah, maybe you had a bit of a spending problem..

your parents have spoiled you since birth because you're their one and only child. no, you weren't wealthy. you had to take on jobs multiple times, but hey hard work pays off!

you were currently on your break, and you intended to spend it going shopping till you went broke but unfortunately, due to you blowing your money to buy another vip standing ticket, that money mysteriously vanished.

" hmm.. is there any job I can do right now? " you rolled around in bed while scrolling through your phone, trying to find any quick gag you could do to earn some cash.

you ended up throwing your phone to the wall, groaning aloud when you could find none.

" i'm so lazy! not to mention my piles of assignments... " you sighed to yourself, opting to go downstairs instead to eat your sorrows away.

you were greeted by both of your parents downstairs, your mom already getting started on making lunch. " oh dear, what's wrong? you look stressed. "

you go to stand beside her, washing your hands in the process to help her cook. " I'm looking for a job to buy a ticket for a concert. my fav group is coming here you know! " you complained to your mom.

you grab the onion and began slicing it, shedding a few tears meanwhile. your mom thinks to herself, turning to you with an idea.

" you know our neighbor is actually looking for someone to babysit her kid. the pay is quite good since her kid is quite.. naughty. " you stared at the soup you were stirring and hummed.

" i can send you the details if you're interested, dear. " you nodded and decided to see how much would the pay be, who knows it might be enough.

a bonus is the kid has a total hottie as her brother!

you took one look at the pay and were sold immediately. you did the math and doing this for the amount of time needed will be more than enough.

i mean, babysitting can't be that hard, right?

⊹₊⋆

you sighed nervously as you finally approached the front door, your tote bag on your shoulder with everything you needed inside. you knocked on the door, anxiously waiting for the mom to greet you.

instead, you were greeted by someone else. " you the new babysitter? "

you stuttered, brain short-circuiting. instead of answering, you stared at the man in front of you.

the red-haired cocked his head to the side, waiting for you to answer with a raised brow. " hello? you there? " he asked in an annoyed tone.

" oh, oh yeah sorry. y-yeah, i'm the new babysitter. " you gripped the strap of your tote bag, trying your best to maintain eye contact with the man in front of you.

he hummed and opened the door wider for you to come in. you excused yourself and stepped into the house.

you walked up to ms. moore to greet her but before you could say anything she rushed towards you, her bag already in her hand.

" oh yn dear! i was just about to leave! thank god you're here. so there's money on the counter in case maya wants anything to eat. you can ask my son for any help. i'll be back before one so i hope you can withstand.. "

before you could ask any questions, she already rushed her way out towards the door. " jason, you better help the babysitter this time! thank you again and i'll see you when i get back, dear! "

with a slam of the door, she was gone.

you stood there, trying to process the information she just dumped on you. in your shocked state, jason gave you a pat on the shoulder. " she always does that. good luck dealing with that devil. ", was all he said before leaving you alone.

" maya, go easy on him! " he shouted upstairs.

you turned to the kid staring at you from the couch, a little concerned about what he just said. you've dealt with kids before, this will be easy.

⊹₊⋆

god, you regretted even thinking that.

there was a reason why babysitters kept dropping out like flies. this kid might as well come straight from hell!

you let out a long sigh as you crashed onto the sofa. you finally managed to put maya to sleep. though you couldn't really relax, still scared she might pull something with you thinking she was asleep.

" don't worry she's asleep. " you looked to the side to see jason slipping next to you on the couch, remote in his hand as he scrolled through various movies.

you let out another sigh, leaning your head back against the headrest and closing your eyes. you crossed your legs over one another, inspecting your slightly dirty converse high.

you peered over next to you, silently admiring jason.

you observed how his grown-out wolf cut, his red-haired that was now washed out is slightly messy, making it look like he just rolled out of bed.

your eyes were especially glued to his piercings. from his industrial to his snake bite, god he has so much.

you were more so drawn to his lips, that you could see his tongue-piercing. he purposely toyed with it, flicking his tongue out to tease you.

he licked his lips ever so slowly, his pink tongue grazing over his lower lip, not forgetting to graze over his snake bite. you gulped and looked away to try to get your mind on something else.

you didn't want to pop a boner in someone else's house!

" had enough already? " his sultry voice suddenly asked. you whipped your neck to look at him, eyes wide like a deer caught in a headlight, did he catch me staring..?

you cleared your throat and grabbed a nearby pillow to try to cover your growing hard-on.

" w-what're you talking about? " you glued your eyes towards the tv, trying to seem as unbothered as you can, thou the stuttering clearly gave it away..

jason rolled his eyes and discarded the pillow you were clinging onto, " oh come on, don't play dumb now. "

he pinned you down on the couch, caging you in leaving you no choice but to look at him.

" don't tell me you didn't notice at all.. "

you tried your best to look at him in the eyes, trying to figure out what he was talking about. well, he was really touchy.. his hands always found their way to touch you no matter.

he always knows just where and when to linger his touches to make you slightly flustered, the way he held your waist earlier still not leaving your eyes.

he also never took his eyes off of you ever since you stepped into his house. his eyes always trailing over to wherever you are, observing whatever the hell you are doing.

your cheeks got redder as you turned your head to the side, trying to hide from his gaze. " see i know you were a smart boy, now how far are you willing to go, bunny? "

you clasped your hand over your mouth, eyes rolling back to the back of your head. this is all too lewd!

you peeked down to look at him and the view below you was breathtaking.

jason's messy hair was now slicked back with his sweat, his big hands holding your legs open as his tongue worked its way on your dick. you could feel his tongue piercing along it, the added sensation making your thigh quiver.

you slowly released your hold on your own mouth, breath shaky. " jason, i-i'm close.. " your meal voice was shaky from the amount of pleasure you were experiencing.

he hummed and just continued to suck you, his hand now fondling your balls, massaging them as if to coax you to release.

you gripped the bedsheet below you, the warmth of his mouth mixed with the occasional cold feeling of his piercing was driving you over the edge. with a loud moan, you finally released in his mouth, eyes closing in bliss.

jason swallowed it all, making sure not to leave any drop behind. you didn't know whether to feel grossed out by it or not.

" ready to move on now bunny? " jason asked you while grabbing a bottle of lube, squirting a glob of it on his fingers. you silently nodded and watched as he squirted another glob on your hole.

" cold.. " you whined at him, feeling the chilliness of the lube. " don't worry, i'll warm you right up bunny. " he smiled.

he first inserted one finger into you slowly, letting you get used to the feeling. he began slowly moving it, occasionally grazing over that spot that made you see stars.

he then inserted another and another, steadily picking up his pace and getting more rougher as time went on. your eyes shoot back open as you kept your lips as tight as you could.

you were close and jason seemed to know this too.

before you could reach your climax, he swiftly pulled his fingers out. you looked up at him in confusion, dumbfounded as to why he stopped. " w-why'd you stopped? "

he took off his boxer, tossing it somewhere else. " don't tell me you were gonna cum just from that. the real fun begins now, bunny "

you watched as jason stroked his own dick, pouring lube on it. he was big. maybe too big for you. " are you sure it'll fit.. " you asked him while your eyes still trained on it.

" don't worry.. " he aligned himself with your hole, " i'll make it fit. "

with that, he shoved himself into you, the student action made you let out a loud moan. your eyes instantly teared up from the sudden stretch. you bit your lips to make sure no other noise escaped from you.

he was so big and you felt so.. full. his tip perfectly kissed your prostate, almost as if you were molded just for him.

" look at you taking it so well.. i knew i should've stuffed you full the moment i saw you. "

you stifled another incoming moan. your hands both covered your face, trying to hide your flushed face. two hands suddenly held onto your wrist, effectively prying your hands off of your face.

" don't hide this gorgeous face from me now. "

his own fingers intertwined with your own as he pounded into you roughly, going fast and aggressive from the start. a string of moans left your lips, your voice shaky due to how fast he was.

soon, one of his hands sneaked its way onto your thigh, hoisting it up. you almost screamed from how much deeper he was inside you. you didn't think it was even possible.

" jasonn, i'm near.. " you whined. your own dick bounced and twitched begging for release. " i'm close too, bunny.. cum with me, yeah? "

you nodded while jason held onto your ankles, his fingers digging into the fabric of your converse high. he somehow began speeding up, chasing his own climax.

you closed your mouth with your own hand, knowing damn well your moans were echoing throughout the house already.

with no warning whatsoever, you felt the warm liquid soon filling your inside, dropplings of it escaping from your hole. the feeling of being filled with jason's thick cock mixed with his own cum running down your ass caused you to also release.

you shut your eyes as your release painted your stomach white, some of it landing on jason's.

after a few moments of silence, he then let go of your ankles, slowly pulling out. you winced at the feeling of emptiness. you rolled to the side, jason also crawling next to you.

you soon almost lull yourself to sleep before remembering that tomorrow you have to babysit maya. oh god maya. you prayed she was sleeping like a baby and didn't hear anything.

" shit.. i honestly can't feel my legs and i still have to babysit maya tomorrow... " you groaned out loud next to him, trying to brainstorm an idea on how to babysit that devil in your current state.

jason only laughed next to you. talking about how he'll figure out a way to deal with her tomorrow. you hope he will since you can't miss the pay...

#tyunniez 🕷#tyunniez asks 💌#x male reader #bottom male reader #bttm male reader #male reader #uke male reader #amab reader #male x male smut #oc x male reader #i rlly dont like this one yall LMAO

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gyuswhore · 5 months

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Fifteen to Forever

"I can’t not be happy when I know I have you."

PAIRING: hockeyplayer!choi seungcheol x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: Fifteen was the age you had met Choi Seungcheol at a school hockey game. Forever was the age you would find yourself spending with him.

CONTAINS: fluff, angst, smut (MINORS DNI), growing up, tears (a lot), distance, this is so emotional you will be in your feels, kissing, p in v sex (unprotected), clit stimulation, handjobs, happy endings bc we love them, i think that's it

WORD COUNT: 6k

masterlist

[AN]: thank you so much @ressonancee for birthing the idea of hockey player cheol in the first place, reading over some of the bits and helping me w some of the plot!!! ty for letting me ramble in your dms lol. hockeyplayer!cheol WILL reappear in other fics bc I'm obsessed with the idea, for now, I hope you enjoy this angsty fluffy creation <33

It wasn’t until the last echo of the slammed car door had faded that you realized, yes, mom, I do actually want you to go in with me.

But alas, as the last tresses of exhaust from her car fade into nothingness, you accept that you’d have to do this alone. Gripping the straps of your brand new backpack helps you ground yourself as the increasingly erratic breathing takes over you. It sinks in now that you’re alone.

There’s a honk, and you realize you’re still frozen in the drop-off zone, the mom in the Subaru not appreciating the 7 AM delay to drop off her own high schooler. You wonder if her kid would let her drop them off inside.

Scurrying into the entrance of the open gates, you find the courtyard full. Huddles of teens laughing and yelling despite the early morning hour, not a spare square foot on the grass. You try to find someone who looks like an adult but fail, hoping you’ll be luckier once you’re inside the building.

You do find yourself lucky as you find a line of teachers at the entrance, ready to greet the new batch of freshmen on their first day of high school. There are a few other kids who look as tense as you, but you feel better with the way the administrator pats your shoulder as she hands you your schedule, assigning you to a lanky sophomore to show you around the building that’d become your second home for the next four years.

Jeonghan tells you his name as he leads you into your homeroom, where you deposit your bag before going back out. He’s peculiar, you decide. He tells you to never walk without looking at the floor on Monday mornings to save your shoes from the occasional start-of-the-week breakfast hurl. He tells you in the cafeteria that the lasagna was horrible, but not the sloppy joes; the sloppy joes were good. He tells you in the gym that the coach would let you off if you rubbed a little eyeliner under your eyes, “he’s an empath.”

By the time he’s listing off clubs and teams, you feel a little less nervous, pushing you back into your fuller homeroom with a sign-up sheet and a goodbye. You don’t get to say thank you.

Kwon Soonyoung slips into the empty seat next to you, introducing himself a little louder than you’d anticipated, but you suppose you needed the enthusiasm. He innocently slips you his home number and hopes out loud that you’d be the best of friends.

You get in the car that afternoon, responding with a wider-than-expected smile at your mother inquiring about your day.

“It was great! I think I’ll like it here.”

You found it strange that the rink was so packed for a high school hockey game, but that was before you saw the ten-foot banner and face paint. Soonyoung sits on your right as Jiwoo places herself on your left, both donned in blue and yellow, sandwiching your uncoordinated outfit. For whatever reason, you’d thought movies exaggerated the hype around high school sports, yet the support for the boys entering the rink roars into your ears to prove you wrong.

They win, and with the way the rest of the team pats him on the back after sending in the last puck, you assume it’s all thanks to the boy with the Choi on the back of his jersey.

He removes his helmet, hair flopping into his eyes as you realize you know him. He was always in the cafeteria with Jeonghan, the boy who gave you a tour on your first day, along with many other boys from his year. It was hard not to notice them with the ruckus they were always causing, yet you found them easy to drown out with the rest of the noise.

“What’s his first name? The guy with the 08 on his back?” you ask Soonyoung.

“Oh, that’s Seungcheol. Dude’s a fucking progidy or something.”

“Prodigy,” Jiwoo corrects.

“Yeah, that. Jihoon said the only reason they got to finals last year was ‘cause of this guy.”

You watch as he drinks from his bottle from the benches, smiling at his coach and teammates as they debriefed. At least you were guessing that was happening; the only thing you were thinking about was how you could hear his laugh from where you sat. And how it was making you smile, too.

You stare at your worn shoes that glow in multicolors as the beats in the gym warp and stagger through the speaker. You’re on your third punch, finding yourself awkward without something to occupy at least one hand.

You had danced a little with Jiwoo, watched with bright eyes as Soonyoung dance off-ed yet another senior to his victory, giggled as you let another freshman, Jun, take Jiwoo away for the next dance. You now lace the edges of the party, taking a breather as you down the remnants of your punch, already trailing the memorized path to the snack table. Maybe you’ll try some of the lemonade this time.

There’s already somebody occupying the lemonade cooler when you get there, back to you as you patiently wait for him to finish up. He moves away, leaning against the table. He takes a sip from his cup, and you move forward to fill your own.

It’s Seungcheol. You recall his name as you recognize his face. He somehow looks as haphazard as you last saw him from yesterday’s hockey game.

If he had come in with a tie, it’s long gone as he has his collar popped and shirt unbuttoned the first few steps. It doesn’t end there as you note the hair that dresses his eyes, soaked in what you cannot imagine is water with the way you saw someone with a similar build typhoon across the floor with nearly as much vigor as Soonyoung has had tonight.

He’s downing the cup in haste, and you take a sip of the slightly tart drink as you debate if you should say something.

“You did really well yesterday. Congrats,” you decide to say.

He emerges from his cup to acknowledge you sipping on your own lemonade, “Oh, thanks. Were you there?”

“Oh, yeah, I was. First hockey game, went with my friends,” you let out a little chuckle, not understanding why you suddenly felt so awkward.

“Cool,” he answers plainly, mouth glistening and posture stagnant. “You’re friends with Soonyoung, right? Seen him hang around Jihoon a lot.”

“Yeah, he’s — he’s friends with everybody,” you laugh a little, and you hear him laugh with you.

“How do you handle him? He’s giving a run for everybody’s money out there,” he gestures to the dance floor with a smile.

“He mellows out after a while; he’s just excited,” you say, understanding his bewilderment.

“How’re you finding high school so far?” he asks when he runs out of things to say, yet forgets that he can easily excuse himself. But he doesn’t.

“Pretty alright. I’m having fun so far.” You don’t need to ask him the same, knowing well that the sophomore was having the time of his life.

“Good to hear, hope it stays that way for you.”

It’s another painful five seconds before you see Jiwoo waving at you from afar, pointing at something Soonyoung is doing.

“Uh, I’ll see you around, my friend’s waving me over–”

“Oh, sure, uh, I’ll see you around.”

You give him one more tight-lipped smile as you wave from waist length before retreating.

“Wait!”

You turn around at his voice.

“I never got your name.”

Seungcheol took you on your first not-date in the spring.

Not-date because neither of you had labeled it as such, but you were pushed to reconsider when both Jiwoo and Soonyoung insisted.

He had brought his car that you slipped into after school to drive to the movies, where he bought you popcorn and paid for both of your tickets. He held your hand as you walked out of the theatre, wide-eyed and all smiles as you discussed the film you had just sat through for two hours.

His palm fit in yours like it belonged there, and maybe it was your fifteen-year-old brain talking. Still, you never expected to be this comfortable with him — especially after the possible insinuation your friends had instilled.

He drove you home that night as you searched for a million excuses to stay a little longer in his car as he parked in front of your door. But alas, you open the car door at the end of the night and are surprised to find him doing the same as he walks around to where you get out.

“I had a lot of fun today,” you say in your rehearsed line.

“Me too,” he smiles. “The weather’s getting nicer, we should see the cherry blossoms next weekend. If you wanted to. We can take the car again.”

He didn’t kiss you, at least not on the lips as he hugged you at your front door and pressed his lips to your cheek.

You were quick to squeak out your goodbyes after that happened, slamming your door shut as you vaguely heard him drive off.

With a hand to your racing heart, you count to ten. Perhaps you’d reconsider that not-date after all. Besides, you had cherry blossoms to look forward to.

Choi Seungcheol kissed you, really kissed you, when he brought the team to the cup they missed out on last year, throwing himself at you as soon as you appeared before him. He was sweaty, half-dressed in his gear with his skates still on as he embraced you tighter than anyone ever had before.

He put his lips on yours the second he saw your face as you pulled away, unable to help himself despite the groans and retches of his teammates, despite the fact that an entire bleacher’s worth of people saw you both.

Not that either of you cared; you were just happy he didn’t have his mouth guard on (and that he kissed you before you couldn’t help it yourself).

It was in your junior year and Seungcheol’s senior year that you began to hear the absurdities about the strength of your relationship, that you wouldn’t make it, that high school sweethearts never do.

With shaking hands, you grip your boyfriend’s arm as he has a conflicted look in his eye.

“No,” you say. You wonder where all of this strength was coming from when you all wanted was to cry. “You’re gonna go. You will go. I won’t let you throw all of this away because of something that’s never gonna waver.”

He’s silent as he refuses to meet your gaze. The voices were getting to him, his older college friends laughing when he suggested that his relationship would last both college and the distance it would bring. He realizes he’s not so sure anymore.

He sits cross-legged in front of you on your bedroom floor, mentally prepared to walk out for the last time.

“You’re supposed to be happiest about this; I don’t understand why you insist I leave. And so far away?” he looks slightly bewildered.

“Because you’ll regret it if you don’t. This isn’t about me, Cheol, it’s about everything you’ve worked for all these years—”

“Us, what about us? I’ve worked on us, too.”

“Why have you gone years without listening to a word what other people say to only listening to them now?”

“Was it just me, then? Because it feels like I’m the only one worried about our future together—”

“Choi Seungcheol, stop right there.” Your voice is brittle, and you don’t know how long you can keep the tears at bay.

“I…I don’t know what to think,” his shoulders slump even lower.

His hockey scholarship would take him so, so far away. He thought you were strong enough for this, but with every anecdote, every comment, every dejected “have it your way” to his resilience, he wonders if the both of you would be forced to fight a losing battle if he left.

There were sports universities here at home, but there was no you with his scholarship.

“I’ll tell you what to think. Will you listen to me?”

Slowly, but surely, he nods.

“You can get the scholarship you’ve always wanted, and we can stay as we are, although a little farther away.”

He looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t.

“I believe in us. And if you don’t right now, I’m ready to believe for the both of us. We’ll get through this.”

In the end, Seungcheol believed you over everything the world told him, praying he wouldn’t let you or himself down as he laid with you on the last night he’d call his bedroom home.

Graduation was a happy endeavor, momentarily forgetting what lay ahead as he enjoyed his last hours with all his friends in one place. The heavy feeling returned as the night progressed, agreeing to spend the night with him, tucked under his covers as you listened to his heartbeat. You wonder how long it will be until you're able to do this again.

As you lay in his stripped bedroom, there’s little either of you say, an unspoken agreement to not sleep, not tonight. He has an early morning, but he doesn’t really seem to care as he continues to fiddle with your hair, kissing you at intervals like he's trying to bring back the feeling when it begins to fade.

There’s little you can talk about when you’re trying to memorize each other’s scent. You remind yourself to give him your sweater when morning comes, already noting the hoodie you need to remember to pick up, the lone one he left you in his closet.

But as the first rays of sun peeked through the blinds, sending stripes of sun into the bedroom, you tried not to feel the hard clench of your heart as the bare room came into sight. Despite the snoozing of alarms, the multiple knocks on his door, and the dawn of a new day, you let yourselves have an extra five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes.

Just you and him before it would be you, and it would be him.

Seungcheol called you more than you called him. It was everywhere, even if it was just to say a quick “I love you” before a game, to hear your voice before he went to class, to listen to you complain about an assignment before he had to do his own.

As resilient as you showed yourself to be, you’d be lying if you said there was a part of you that was afraid of how much faith Seunghceol held for the both of you, but at ease you were with the constant bugging he’d do and the bugging he seemed to appreciate back.

By Christmastime, he’d texted you his itinerary for the holidays, explaining how he couldn’t spare a second to things like thinking. Most of his list involved spending all day rotting indoors with you.

As much as Seungcheol had hoped you’d pick a college nearer to him, he was less scared when you finally announced your college decisions close to graduation. The past year had proved a lot, mostly that you both were stronger than the distance. Which is why he was the first to congratulate you when you got into the college of your choice, despite the fact that you’d be even farther away, leaving home in what felt like the opposite direction to him.

You were scared too, mostly of how Seungcheol would react, but seeing the smile break out on his face when you told him gave you all the reassurance you needed. That summer brought you the best memories of your teenage years, with Seungcheol, preparing for you both to leave. Except this time, the air was less tense, fewer tears shed, fewer solemn goodbyes at airport gates, and less desperation in both of your hearts. A surety that you’d come back to each other.

Seungcheol was offered a contract with his dream hockey team when you were on the cusp of your final year. He told you nearly two weeks after he received the first email, not believing it until he was pestered to do so by the representative.

You cried on the phone that night, the ache in your chest unbelievably present as you wished you could hug him at that moment. He denied his own tears, but you knew his glassier-than-normal eyes weren’t just through the camera lens. You told him you were proud, you told him this was only the beginning, that you needed to sit in the bleachers with his jersey on for every game he’ll ever play, that he was about to have an entire career to be proud of soon.

He let a couple tears slip.

And when he showed up to your graduation, sitting next to your family, you gave him the biggest hug you could muster from your bones. That year may have been the last you’d have to endure apart, but it was somehow the hardest.

It was in that moment, when you pulled away to look at his smiling face, that the years registered in your mind.

You’re fifteen again, seeing Seungcheol for the first time, donning the features he hadn’t grown into yet, the features you hadn’t grown into yet. You have to tiptoe to meet his lips now, see a man where there was once a boy, the deep set of maturity behind his pretty eyes.

When he drops the last of your boxes into his — your shared apartment, you’re brought to the stark realization that you're going to stay here.

It’s when you’re unpacking your toothbrush, placing it in the cup right next to his that you realize you could do whatever you wanted with each other without having to work around flight schedules. It’s when he’s hobbling around wooden planks and screws in the bedroom, putting together the brand new queen-sized bed to replace his too-small twin, that you realize that you weren’t here for the week, or for the month or for any set amount of time; you were here forever.

At least that’s what you hope as you watch him collapse the last of the cardboard boxes to recycle, shoving in the corner of the entryway, leaving that job for tomorrow.

By the time you emerge in the living room after a shower, Seungcheol has already begun to unpack the delivery food on the coffee table. It’s an array of delicious smells, slightly soggy food, and mounds of styrofoam and plastic wrap; a feast for your tired, tired bodies.

The dumplings are amazing, and the warm feeling in your chest expands as you realize you can now order them whenever you like.

Seungcheol picks out the chopped chilies from his food, migrating them onto your own plate as he talks about his next practice session without interruption.

A thought occurs to you in that moment as you watch him down his cola. “Hasn’t coach put you on a diet plan?”

“Yeah,” he says normally. You merely stare at him, not understanding how any of this junk could be any good for his form, especially when you know he’s good about abstaining when it comes to training.

He smiles at the questioning look on your face, setting down his utensils, “It’s our first meal, in our first home. I think we deserve to share this with each other.”

A smile breaks out on your face at the thought of this being your first meal, the first of many meals together in this home. Of all the meals you’ll share in every home after this, every day.

And while Seungcheol finds himself sacrificing his diet to enjoy all of this greasy grub with you, you will also find yourself occasionally sharing his awfully bland chicken breasts and salads. All to share with each other.

Walking into the bustling restaurant in your uncomfortable shoes and your arm around Seungcheol’s, you’re quick to find the group you’re looking for.

The noise is a dead giveaway, and you quickly realize they haven’t changed.

You hear Soonyoung before you see him, his distinct laugh echoing the loudest across the sea of mingling heads. A loud banner hangs at the end of the room with your high school grad year.

You detach from Seungcheol as he finds his junior friends, and you find yours, taking both Soonyoung and Jiwoo into a bone-crushing hug. It’s been a while since you last saw them. The crowd of familiar faces greets you, making small talk with everyone as they introduce you to their partners and even their children. You’ve grown; all of you have.

“Seungcheol’s here too. You guys were together in high school, right?” somebody asks you at some point during the night. “He graduated before us, though; wonder who he’s here with.”

You don’t blame them for assuming, considering both of you have been in your own circles all night. That, added to the obvious assumptions of high school sweethearts, you only laugh a little as you reply with a wider-than-usual smile.

“Oh, he’s here with me,”

You go home with a permanent smile stuck to your face, talking more animatedly than usual in the car ride home. Seuncheol mirrors your smile as he listens.

Your good mood prevails for the rest of the night, even as you slip under the covers, ready to end the night on a happier-than-usual note. Seungcheol is reading his book when you crawl under his arm, head on his chest, and your arm slung across his torso. You feel his lips on the top of your head, the faint sound of his book being placed on the bedside table.

“What’s got you so smiley?” he asks with one of his own.

You shake your head as you reply, “Nothing. I’m just happy I saw Soonyoung and Jiwoo.”

“I’m glad you saw them too. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

You hum in response, suddenly remembering a conversation you had. “You know, Jess asked me who you were there with.”

“Figures,” he shrugs before laughing a little.“How much did she hesitate before asking you?”

“Looked like she was holding it in for a little bit. Don’t blame her, though. She probably thought we ended it in epic teenage fashion.”

He snorts at that, “Probably would’ve if you didn’t talk some sense into me.”

“Probably would’ve if you didn’t trust me like you did,” you crane your neck to look at him.

“Glad I wasn’t that far gone,” he whispers, a faraway look in his eyes despite looking directly at you. “Haven’t doubted us ever since.”

There’s that warm feeling that spreads throughout your body, an overwhelming feeling of contentment coming over you. There was nothing, nothing, that could convince you to be anywhere else, especially anywhere that wasn’t in his arms.

“Sometimes…well, a lot of the times, I think about us,” you start. “I thought us hitting six months was enough to tell me I’d be with you forever.”

He smiles at the thought of high school you, starry-eyed, awkward little kids. He remembers the way you blushed when he kissed you for the first time in front of the whole school, the heat that had risen to his own face at the time.

“And then we hit a year, and then two years,” you remember every surprise for every anniversary, from when you’d collect your allowance for weeks to get him something he’d like.

“And then college happened. I tried being so positive, but I had never been more scared for us. I hope we never have to go through something that hard ever again.” You almost sound like a child not wanting to go to the doctor’s office, but with the way you feel yourself tighten your grip around him, you don’t think it’s any different.

You can feel your eyes begin to well, and your voice begins to shake. It was nearly comical how quickly the smiles were turning into sentimental tears.

Seungcheol places a kiss on your lips, and you know it was meant to be reassuring, but it only wrenches open the floodgates. The tears begin to make their way down your face, sniffles muffled as you go back to burying your face in his chest, his shirt soaking the wetness. You can feel a rumble in his chest as he laughs at your state. He’s also squeezing up your sides and placing kisses in any place he can reach.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you murmur into his shirt.

“It’s okay. Today was very reflective,” he reassures, letting you stay hidden.

“I just—” you sniff. “I just wanna stay happy like this all the time.”

It’s only then that he guides your stained face away from his shirt to bring you to look at him, wiping the remnants of your tears as you try to keep the fresh ones at bay. “We’ll be happy, even when we’re sad. I can’t not be happy when I know I have you. I love you too much for that.”

“I love you,” you whisper into his lips, arms around his neck as you pull yourself to him, chest to chest. You kiss him properly, pecking him a few times to have your fill.

And then he’s pulling away, ever so slightly to bring a bare millimeter of gap between your lips. His hands burn where they rest, one on your waist, one on your thigh. He’s breathing hard. Both of you are.

“I’m gonna say something so not fit for right now,” he breathes.

You can’t help but freeze in his hold as you register his words, hesitating before you ask. “What?”

“Marry me.”

It comes out as the same whisper, directly into your lips as he utters the words. Like he was keeping a secret from the walls and the furniture, like they were only meant for you; because they were only meant for you. Your heart stops, and you vaguely wonder if you’re breathing at all.

“I—” he takes a long, shaky breath from his nose. “I was supposed to do this a little differently, but…”

You watch him reach over into his bedside drawer, the one you never touch, and bring out the smallest velvet box. Opening it reveals the prettiest, most delicate diamond you’ve ever seen, the jewel glinting and sparkling even in the dim bedroom lights.

That’s when you let out a tiny gasp, feeling the tears return, dripping down your face one after the other. “Choi Seuncheol, you bitch.”

You’re sobbing at this point, and it has him sitting up straighter, leaving the box to the side as he lurches for you when you pull away.

“Wait, fuck, sorry, I thought,” he exhales in frustration, hands trying to pull yours away from your face as you cry into your hands. He sounds desperate. “I got carried away, I don’t know what I was thinking—”

“No, it’s not that,” you finally manage through hiccups.

“Yes, of course, I’ll marry you, I’m just fucking emotional.”

You hear him laugh again, no doubt out of pure relief, as he nearly doubles over at the situation.

You’re a little calmer as you continue to sniffle, watching him with a half-disgruntled, half-amused expression, “Put it on, stupid, or do I need to cry again for you to do that.”

You don’t need to tell him twice as he slips the ring on your finger, the perfect fit, the perfect jewel, the perfect ring.

Bringing him closer, you kiss him again, lips pressed hard on his as you try to communicate every last emotion into it. You’re out of words, and you hope he knows what you're feeling. You know he knows; he always knows.

He’s reciprocating with the same vigor, arms coming up to wrap around you so tight it pushes you flush against his body. He nips at your lip, running his tongue over it for good measure before letting it enter your mouth. You let him take the lead, let him guide you through every motion, every step forward.

You’re putty when he pulls off your clothes for you, feeling your heart scream in protest whenever he pulls away to get rid of the obstructions. Your emotions were in a delicate place, and you suddenly couldn’t handle not being able to feel him against you consistently.

He does well to make it quick, moving back on top of you to occupy your mouth once more. He tries to migrate lower, latching onto your neck to continue his ministrations there, but you don’t let him as you pull his face back to yours again.

“I love you,” you whisper against his mouth before latching onto his lips.

He lets out a low grunt, pulling away for breath as he whispers it back, “I love you more.”

If you won’t let his mouth move, you let his hands do whatever they wish, feeling them move lower against your sides to reach your hips. His thumbs draw circles on them as he slowly moves his hands to where you can feel the arousal grow.

His fingers hit your bare heat as he plunges them into your folds, encasing your clit between his fingers. He drags them up slowly before moving back down, all the way to your now sopping hole to brush against the opening.

You sigh against his lips as he pushes his finger in slowly, lips releasing yours as you throw your head back to feel his digit around your walls. He pushes a second one in without hesitation, and you know he’s just as desperate as you right now.

He’s only two fingers deep, and yet you feel yourself beginning to come undone. He always knew what to do when he wanted to stretch you out faster, always knew what to do when he wanted to draw the pleasure out, keep you writhing for hours.

Right now was different; it felt like he was holding himself back to the point where it was almost painful. If he wasn’t worried about the stretch, he would’ve buried himself inside you already, and yet, when he feels you clench undeniably hard around his fingers as you orgasm, he feels like he might’ve cum himself.

His low moans echo off the walls with your louder, more desperate ones, riding out your high as you feel him bring his other hand up to rub your clit in fast circles, making the pleasure last. Coming down from your high, you feel him pause for a moment as he peppers kisses on your face, down your jaw and neck, finally coming to press his lips against yours.

“You okay?”

You nod in response, already grasping at his boxers to yank them down. Despite having just orgasmed, the satisfaction is yet to come, needing to feel him inside you before you combusted entirely.

He helps as he discards himself of the final obstruction, letting you stroke his painfully hard member in your hands. The face he makes is heavenly as you watch him feel your hands wrapped around him. The impatience takes over as he finally removes your hands, instead pinning them beside your head as he guides himself to your entrance.

Seungcheol goes back to planting himself onto you entirely, knowing exactly what you wanted from him, needing to feel him against you so flush and tight. He lets you wrap your hands around his neck as he finally begins to push himself into you, letting his tip graze the beginning of your entrance.

He breathes into your neck in deep, deep exhales, trying so hard not to cum before he’s even entered you entirely. He takes his time pushing into you, focusing on your fingers as they play with his hair, your palms running down his shoulder blades in a pathway. He closes his eyes as he sheaths himself in you completely, continuing his steady breaths to not come undone before you.

He begins to move when he feels like he’s gotten a hold of his bearings, feeling you hold onto him as he starts thrusting into your cunt. The sounds you make are bliss; the feeling of every inch of your skin on his is making him lose his already lost mind.

Your arms drop when they can’t hold onto him any longer, your hands remaining on him regardless, in some way or the other. Seungcheol takes hold of your hand, emerging from the crook of your neck to bring it to his mouth. He kisses it, your palms, the back of your hand, your fingers, directly over the rock he slipped on you himself.

The tenderness of his actions makes your brain rattle against your skull, the building feeling in your abdomen coming so close to collapsing into release. You find yourself pushing yourself up on your elbows, face finding the crook of his shoulder as you push yourself back into him when pulled back in the slightest.

You’re so close now, so, so close. “Cheol,”

“I know, darling. Cum for me, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve always got you.”

You release to the sound of his voice, the words that tumble from his desperate mouth, the feeling of his own cum shooting inside your spent walls. He continues to thrust into you as you both let out the loudest moans of the night, letting yourself get wrapped up in the feeling of each other before you lose your peak.

You register nothing as you feel him drop his weight on top of you, letting the moment pass.

Despite having had nights rougher, more lengthy than this, you somehow feel more spent than you have at the end of any of those escapades. The answer comes to you in the few minutes it takes for you both to catch your breath, Cheol being just as fatigued as you despite his athlete stamina.

You feel him continue to press his lips onto your skin, letting you do the same to him in between kisses. Neither of you speak for another few minutes, letting the heaviness of your hearts come forth in the showers of love you seem to want to give each other.

He’s grasping your left hand, toying with the ring fitted there. “I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

A picture of the both of you hangs on the wall in your bedroom, dim yet decipherable in the low lights. There’s a moment where you have a flash of that same photo on multiple different walls. Different shades of neutral, in different rooms in different houses. It’s the same picture.

You think of what forever might hold for the both of you, separately and together. You let the prospect of every step, every change, and every milestone wash over you in waves that keep coming, crashing back to feed into another.

Change, you rehearse. There had been lots of it, and yet you had merely scratched the surface of what life was about to throw at you. You knew that, Seungcheol knew that. But you found yourself, in that moment, convinced in entirety that change is good, whether it feels good or bad.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder; you didn't realize the meaning of the phrase until you had to live apart from the love of your life. Painful, difficult, sometimes agonizing, yet also necessary, you conclude. You wonder if your love would ever have grown this deep if you hadn’t felt life without each other.

You think of how far you’ve come, how you’ve grown with each other. There was an encompassing of gratefulness that came with every step you had taken, and with every step you would take henceforth, you knew that for certain.

Perhaps you would find yourself voicing these emotional thoughts to him, but not now. The unspoken was louder than anything you could say.

“I can’t wait to spend forever with you, too.”

taglist (strikthru could not be tagged): @rubyreduji @vampirexlotita @simqly-yunjin @tomodachiii

#seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seungcheol fluff #seuncheol smut #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol x reader #seungchel angst #scoups #svt #svt smut #em.writes

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katrafiy · 1 year

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I think about this image a lot. This is an image from the Aurat March (Women's March) in Karachi, Pakistan, on International Women's Day 2018. The women in the picture are Pakistani trans women, aka khwaja siras or hijras; one is a friend of a close friend of mine.

In the eyes of the Pakistani government and anthropologists, they're a "third gender." They're denied access to many resources that are available to cis women. Trans women in Pakistan didn't decide to be third-gendered; cis people force it on them whether they like it or not.

Western anthropologists are keen on seeing non-Western trans women as culturally constructed third genders, "neither male nor female," and often contrast them (a "legitimate" third gender accepted in its culture) with Western trans women (horrific parodies of female stereotypes).

There's a lot of smoke and mirrors and jargon used to obscure the fact that while each culture's trans women are treated as a single culturally constructed identity separate from all other trans women, cis women are treated as a universal category that can just be called "women."

Even though Pakistani aurat and German Frauen and Guatemalan mujer will generally lead extraordinarily different lives due to the differences in culture, they are universally recognized as women.

The transmisogynist will say, "Yes, but we can't ignore the way gender is culturally constructed, and hijras aren't trans women, they're a third gender. Now let's worry less about trans people and more about the rights of women in Burkina Faso."

In other words, to the transmisogynist, all cis women are women, and all trans women are something else.

"But Kat, you're not Indian or Pakistani. You're not a hijra or khwaja sira, why is this so important to you?"

Have you ever heard of the Neapolitan third gender "femminiello"? It's the term my moniker "The Femme in Yellow" is derived from, and yes, I'm Neapolitan. Shut up.

I'm going to tell you a little bit about the femminielli, and I want you to see if any of this sounds familiar. Femminielli are a third gender in Neapolitan culture of people assigned male at birth who have a feminine gender expression.

They are lauded and respected in the local culture, considered to be good omens and bringers of good luck. At festivals you'd bring a femminiello with you to go gambling, and often they would be brought in to give blessings to newborns. Noticing anything familiar yet?

Oh and also they were largely relegated to begging and sex work and were not allowed to be educated and many were homeless and lived in the back alleys of Naples, but you know we don't really like to mention that part because it sounds a lot less romantic and mystical.

And if you're sitting there, asking yourself why a an accurate description of femminiello sounds almost note for note like the same way hijras get described and talked about, then you can start to understand why that picture at the start of this post has so much meaning for me.

And you can also start to understand why I get so frustrated when I see other queer people buy into this fool notion that for some reason the transes from different cultures must never mix.

That friend I mentioned earlier is a white American trans woman. She spent years living in India, and as I recal the story the family she was staying with saw her as a white, foreign hijra and she was asked to use her magic hijra powers to bless the house she was staying in.

So when it comes to various cultural trans identities there are two ways we can look at this. We can look at things from a standpoint of expressed identity, in which case we have to preferentially choose to translate one word for the local word, or to leave it untranslated.

If we translate it, people will say we're artificially imposing an outside category (so long as it's not cis people, that's fine). If we don't, what we're implying, is that this concept doesn't exist in the target language, which suggests that it's fundamentally a different thing

A concrete example is that Serena Nanda in her 1990 and 2000 books, bent over backwards to say that Hijras are categorically NOT trans women. Lots of them are!

And Don Kulick bent over backwards in his 1998 book to say that travesti are categorically NOT trans women, even though some of the ones he cited were then and are now trans women.

The other option, is to look at practice, and talk about a community of practice of people who are AMAB, who wear women's clothing, take women's names, fulfill women's social roles, use women's language and mannerisms, etc WITHIN THEIR OWN CULTURAL CONTEXT.

This community of practice, whatever we want to call it - trans woman, hijra, transfeminine, femminiello, fairy, queen, to name just a few - can then be seen to CLEARLY be trans-national and trans-cultural in a way that is not clearly evident in the other way of looking at things.

And this is important, in my mind, because it is this axis of similarity that is serving as the basis for a growing transnational transgender rights movement, particularly in South Asia. It's why you see pictures like this one taken at the 2018 Aurat March in Karachi, Pakistan.

And it also groups rather than splits, pointing out not only points of continuity in the practices of western trans women and fa'afafines, but also between trans women in South Asia outside the hijra community, and members of the hijra community both trans women and not.

To be blunt, I'm not all that interested in the word trans woman, or the word hijra. I'm not interested in the word femminiello or the word fa'afafine.

I'm interested in the fact that when I visit India, and I meet hijras (or trans women, self-expressed) and I say I'm a trans woman, we suddenly sit together, talk about life, they ask to see American hormones and compare them to Indian hormones.

There is a shared community of practice that creates a bond between us that cis people don't have. That's not to say that we all have the exact same internal sense of self, but for the most part, we belong to the same community of practice based on life histories and behavior.

I think that's something cis people have absolutely missed - largely in an effort to artificially isolate trans women. This practice of arguing about whether a particular "third gender" label = trans women or not, also tends to artificially homogenize trans women as a group.

You see this in Kulick and Nanda, where if you read them, you could be forgiven for thinking all American trans women are white, middle class, middle-aged, and college-educated, who all follow rigid codes of behavior and surgical schedules prescribed by male physicians.

There are trans women who think of themselves as separate from cis women, as literally another kind of thing, there are trans women who think of themselves as coterminous with cis women, there are trans women who think of themselves as anything under the sun you want to imagine.

The problem is that historically, cis people have gone to tremendous lengths to destroy points of continuity in the transgender community (see everything I've cited and more), and particularly this has been an exercise in transmisogyny of grotesque levels.

The question is do you want to talk about culturally different ways of being trans, or do you want to try to create as many neatly-boxed third genders as you can to prop up transphobic theoretical frameworks? To date, people have done the latter. I'm interested in the former.

I guess what I'm really trying to say with all of this is that we're all family y'all.

#transgender #third gender #hijras #femminielli #trans women are women #trans solidarity #trans rights #transmisogyny #transunity #transunitism #this is what trans unity looks like

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lesbiansandgayssupporttheminers · 5 months

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So, the DfE have released their non-statutory guidance for schools on "gender questioning children". I know much has been made of the idea of outing trans children to their parents, but I think the guidance actually has far more concerning sections. And by concerning I mean "deeply transphobic and fucked up".

I know some people are happy it's non statutory, but let's be explicit, this document is transphobic, it's dogwhistle politics, and it's existence will directly harm trans people.

Ironically, the DfE's own lawyers have advised that this guidance is likely illegal and contravenes the equality act.

I think the idea that there are lots of students who are fully transitioned in school but not out at all at home is a bit of a strawman from both sides. In my experience (and I've mentioned this on tumblr before), a school would not normally encourage this if a student was genuinely at risk at home if outed, because even if all the teachers knew not to out the students, you can't control the behaviour of other students/parents etc. I think it's a bit of a right wing scare tactic "Schools are transitioning your kids without your consent". It's a fascist dog whistle.

In my experience as a teacher, the vast majority of trans kids I've taught were transitioning socially at home and school. Some did only use their chosen name/pronouns in school, but parents were aware.

But this straw man has been used to build a document which is deeply transphobic and wide reaching and will defacto exclude some trans kids from school, or from school sports, or from attending a school where they feel comfortable.

Trans kids exist. Kids can know they are trans from a young age, and there is no harm to anyone from allowing social transition at a young age. Some kids transition back to their assigned gender at birth. That doesn't mean anyone was harmed. But this guidance explicitly presents the idea of transition as both harmful to the person transitioning and those around them. Which is fucked up.

The new guidance has some really concerning bits in it which will seriously negatively impact all trans students. Here are some quotes below, with my comments in italics. Please note I'm quoting directly from a document that uses transphobic language:

-Primary school aged children should not have different pronouns to their sex-based pronouns used about them. (This is fucked, I cannot stress how fucked this is. These kids exist and simply pretending they don't is awful in the extreme. The idea that children can't socially transition at primary school is really messed up. )

-schools and colleges should only agree to a change of pronouns if they are confident that the benefit to the individual child outweighs the impact on the school community. It is expected that there will be very few occasions in which a school or college will be able to agree to a change of pronouns. On these rare occasions, no teacher or pupil should be compelled to use these preferred pronouns. (How does a child using pronouns of choice impact the school community? It doesn't? In my experience, teens are much more accepting of trans classmates than some adults. Also giving teachers explicit permission to misgender kids is fucking dangerous).

-schools and colleges should exhaust all other options, such as using firstnames, to avoid requiring other individuals having to use preferred pronouns. (My initial response to this was "why the fuck" but a trans friend commented that the purpose is to make trans people's lives as difficult and as miserable as possible, and they're going after the most vulnerable trans people- trans kids)

-If a child does not want to use the toilet designated for their biological sex, and the school or college has considered all the relevant factors outlined above, they may wish to consider whether they can provide or offer the use of an alternative toilet facility. (this is weird because I'm pretty sure it contravenes the equality act, I'm pretty sure there is a legal duty on schools, and certainly colleges where over 18s attend to provide gender neutral toilet facilities if required. Also, not having an appropriate toilet defacto excludes children from school).

-Schools may have different uniform requirements for girls and boys. Some specify which uniform items are for girls and which are for boys, and similarly some schools have hairstyle rules which differ by sex. A child who is gender questioning should, in general, be held to the same uniform standards as other children of their sex at their school and schools may set clear rules to this effect. (So some schools could, for example, force a trans boy or non binary student to wear a skirt. Which is unfair and messed up. To be honest, I think sex segregated uniforms belong in the dark ages anyway, but this is just ridiculous.).

-There is no general duty to allow a child to ‘social transition’. (Firstly, there legally is. Secondly, why would a school not want to? This just gives licence to transphobic heads to say "oh, no, we won't allow you to transition", which is illegal, but the whole thing is just such a fucking mess. And again, why? Why would you not allow a child to transition socially? Unless you want to pretend that trans children don't exist?)

If you want to read the full guidance, it's available here, but trigger warnings etc do apply: https://consult.education.gov.uk/equalities-political-impartiality-anti-bullying-team/gender-questioning-children-proposed-guidance/supporting_documents/Gender%20Questioning%20Children%20%20nonstatutory%20guidance.pdf

Yes, the guidance is non-statutory, so in theory schools could ignore it, but in reality, OFSTED etc can use non-statutory guidance as a stick to beat schools with. At this stage, I think we all know the OFSTED don't give a fuck about anyone's mental health or wellbeing.

Interestingly, even the DfE's own lawyers have admitted the advice could open schools up to a legal challenge. This SchoolsWeek article on the topic is super interesting: https://schoolsweek.co.uk/trans-guidance-dfe-lawyers-said-schools-face-high-risk-of-being-sued/

Anyway, whilst the fact it's non statutory is something, this is not the victory some people are making it out to be, and the fact a document encouraging misgendering children has been published at all is fucked. This document could very much be used to prevent children from transitioning, and will likely prevent some children who have transitioned from attending school.

#uk politics #english politics #education #trans rights #trans children #fuck the dfe #tw: transphobia #tw: fascism

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raccoon-queer · 1 year

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y'know what? I'm gonna say it

asking if someone is afab or amab is transphobic

the only people who need to know what gender you were assigned at birth are medical professionals and potentially sexual partners. otherwise, there is literally no reason anyone needs to know your agab

"but I have trauma with amab people" "but afab people are annoying" that sounds like a you problem and does not justify asking people what's in their pants. because that is what you are doing – just with politically correct terminology

you cannot call yourself a trans ally and then ask to know what's in someone's pants. end of story

(also? some people aren't afab or amab. neither sex nor gender are binary)

#ace speaks #transgender #trans #trans man #trans woman #nonbinary #afab #amab #intersex #lgbtq #queer #trans ally

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foone · 5 months

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I want to make the wizard in One Hundred and One Magical Pistols trans, but the problem is that he's not afab. Or amab. He wasn't assigned anything at birth, because he wasn't born. (nor was I but that's a different story)

Like all chronomancers one of the first thing he did was undo his birth, because that's a risk you can't afford when you're a time traveler. What if someone goes back and shoots your grandfather? You'd get undone, unmade, a living paradox. And that can really put a crimp in your day.

So I'm not sure how to describe his gender, and that's on top of the whole issue that he's a wizard. Yeah sure, he uses he/him pronouns, but he's a wizard. If he had a driver's license, it'd be like:

NAME: *redacted because he doesn't have a name yet*

BORN: no

GENDER: Wizard

If sex is what's between your legs and gender's what's between your ears (and they aren't) , the answer for both of his is "incredible arcane power". What's in his pants? Probably a wand, a gun, or a portal to the Elemental Plane of trousers.

So I guess you could say he's afabtnaab(nb)tmtw.

Assigned female at birth, to not assigned at birth (not born) to male to wizard.

That's like, triple trans. That's the thing about fantasy worlds with wizards and shit, they can be trans in ways that we on earth can barely dream of!

Remind me to tell y'all about that dragon-to-werewolf-to-human enby. Speaking of which, they're an interesting case too. Like, you might think you'd call them an afab enby, but the thing is, they were born (well, hatched) as a dragon. Dragons only have one gender, and it's Dragon. They're very much like wizards in that way (which isn't a coincidence). So they didn't have a binary gender when they were a dragon, but when they became a werewolf, they got one (semi-arbitrarily: they got the gender of the werewolf that infected them). Or at least, they got a feminine body. They're still non-binary, because they're still a dragon, even if they have "female body".

And then when they turned into a human, they kept the female body, just... A human instead of werewolf version of it. So you could call them AFAB except they weren't assigned anything at birth, they were just assigned dragon at hatching.

So yeah. Gender, won't you?

#trans shitposting #One hundred and one magical pistols #My writing

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ileaveclawmarks · 1 year

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An interview with Leslie Feinberg appearing in the Oct/Nov 1998 issue of On Our Backs.

Please click on image to read or find the transcript below:

Feinberg and hir activist peers have transformed the landscape of current queer politics: they have introduced "trans" (even into the mission statement of the National Organization for Women) as an umbrella term for transgender and transsexual persons. "Transgender" refers to any person whose gender expression appears at odds with his or ber biological sex, including transvestites, drag queens and kings, intersexed persons, "passing" men and women, feminine men, and masculine women. "Transsexual" refers to men and women who challenge the sex they were assigned at birth, whether they choose sex-reassignment surgery or not. Feminism popularized the distinction between "sex" (as biological sex) and "gender" (as the social expression of masculinity, androgyny, and femininity); the trans movement took this distinction to the streets.

Feinberg discusses her struggle with the health care system in hir new book, Trans Liberation: Beyond Pink or Blue. Released in October, Trans Liberation chronicles Feinberg's career as a public speaker and collects the addresses s/he delivered to a variety of groups, from Gay Pride organizers to straight male transvestites. We spoke with Feinberg about why sexual freedom is impossible without freedom of gender expression.

On Our Backs: Trans Liberation was released this fall. Can you tell us about what you're working on now?

Feinberg: I'm deep into a novel titled Drag King Dreams. It's about a working-class, Jewish trans person who has a foot in both the diverse trans communities and also the lesbian, gay, and bi communities. It's a book about figuring out what "home" means and who your people are. I'm also trying to write a fable titled "Tale of Two Hearts." it's really a love song to Minnie Bruce Pratt-my wife, my lover, and my friend. It's just one chorus of the love song I write to Minnie Bruce every day of my life.

On Our Backs: Your relationship with poet Minnie Bruce Pratt, thanks in part to her book S/he, is well known. What is your advice to those of us seeking a long term relationship as loving as yours?

Feinberg: I just know that for me, this is a relationship unlike any other I've ever had. I wasn't looking for a lifetime commitment when I met Minnie Bruce. I°d been dating nonmonogamously for quite a while, nothing serious. Minnie Bruce and I both did a lot of work individually to grow up, get sober and work hard at developing our political consciousness and activism. We were ready for each other. Ready to be loving, to communicate, and to listen.

On Our Backs: Pat Califia once wrote that she wishes there would come a time when we don't pick a sexual partner by his or her gender, but by other criteria, such as whether the person is a top or a bottom. In your ideal world, what would attract people to one another?

Feinberg: It's hard for me to hypothesize. In the world we live in, individuals do organize their preferences around gender expression. But a spectrum of sexuality existed in ancient societies that predated state. sponsored repression of human love. That leads me to think that these preferences might continue to exist in future societies in which no form of sex or gender is outlawed or demeaned. I don't think the problem today is preferences so much as prejudices. For example, I read personal ads in which people say "no druggies or butches need apply." Wow! That's preiudice. If you say in an ad that you're looking for someone feminine or androgynous or some other form of preference. that's very different from saving "no butches." As more and more prejudices are defeated, and in a world freed from divide-and-rule bigotry, people will be freer to explore their preferences about gender and about individuals.

On Our Backs: Do transgendered persons have sexual representation-pornography, erotic fiction, videos made for and by themselves?

Feinberg: Right now, there are many people trying to write erotica that bends gender. And I think it's very important. For many of us, it's very hard, never being able to identify with the sexuality we see everywhere in the dominant culture. [So] it was very important for me to write about sexuality in Stone Butch Blues. In the novel I'm working on now, I've been thinking a lot about how to write about sexuality that's not necessarily masculine or feminine, or gay or straight.

On Our Backs: What do you mean by "sexuality that's not necessarily masculine or feminine"?

Feinberg: I see masculinity and femininity as forms of gender expression. But a person's gender expression doesn't necessarily determine their sexuality. It doesn't determine whether you'll be attracted to someone of a similar gender expression or a dissimilar one. It doesn't mean you'll be sexually aggressive or submissive or both. That's what makes me so angry when I hear people derisively refer to someone as "thinks she's so butch but she rolls over in bed." It's an assumption that masculinity translates into being a top sexually. It limits the range of sexual expression of masculine females. And it's a sexual attack on someone who is, by virtue of their social oppression, already sexually wounded.

On Our Backs: Both sex scenes from Stone Butch Blues were excerpted for collections of lesbian erotica. Did you intend the scenes to be sexually arousing for readers - to be erotica - when you wrote them?

Feinberg: That's such an interesting question. I have to say that when I set out to write the sex scenes, I began to be aware of internalized censorship: "Can I or should I write about this or that?" So I consciously blocked out any thought of readers with this odd mental trick: I told myself that whatever I wrote, I didn't have to publish it. First write it, then decide. By doing that, I discovered that I could write about the kind of sex that i thought was true to the emotional makeup of the characters. If it was erotic for readers, I think it was because I was true to the characters themselves, so the sex was "real," if you know what I mean.

On Our Backs: Can sexuality exist without gender? Or is gender an essential component of sexuality?

Feinberg: Certainly everyone is gendered - quite complexly. And we infuse much of who we are, as gendered people, into our sexuality. But sexuality is so complicated by oppression right now that it's really hard to study it removed from its social soil. Jesse Helms defeated funding for a study that would have backed up much of what Kinsey revealed decades ago: that human sexuality is not two opposite poles- one normal, one not. Sexuality is on a spectrum, and many individuals move along that continuum during their lives. But lesbian, gay, and bisexual love is outlawed in the majority of states in the United States. So how can a truly objective, intensive study of sexuality even be conducted? It's like doing a study on religious beliefs and affiliations during the Nazi regime in Germany. So much of what we will learn about the relationship of gender and desire, as well as unraveling other questions about the matrix of sexuality, will be tied to the victories of our liberation of humanity from oppression altogether.

On Our Backs: In Trans Liberation you wrote about how frustrating it is voting for a two-party system when both parties are backed by big business. Do you vote? Should poor, queer, and trans people even bother voting?

Feinberg: Well, politics is about more than voting. It's also about finding ways to move people to action. In a particular situation, voting on an issue in an election or a candidate could help advance the movement. In general, though, I don't think voting for Republicans or Democrats - both supported by wings of corporate America, as are their parties - advances our struggle. I believe we need to build an independent liberation movement that's not tied down by waiting to see what happens in the next election. Everything our movement has ever won, including progressive legislation, has been won based on the strength of our struggle.

On Our Backs: Lesbians who accept transgender liberation in theory often balk at making alliances with transsexuals. Why is this so?

Feinberg: First and foremost, transsexual men and women helped build the modern lesbian, gay, and bisexual communities and movement. I know of at least one transsexual sister who fought the cops at Stonewall. They haven't always been recognized for their valuable contributions. But I believe strongly that those in the lesbian communities who are opposed to building coalitions with the diverse trans communities are just one current, and very often a minority current. The question is: Which current of any movement will lead? Those who seek to narrow the movement, or those who seek to broaden and strengthen its collective power?

*In this interview, On Our Backs refers to Feinberg with the pronouns "hir" (pronounced "here") and "s/he." We choose to do so because Feinberg has stressed that if society is to accept transgendered people, our language must expand as well. S/he gives as an example Ms., a common term now, but unacceptable before the women's movement.

Source.

#leslie feinberg #stone butch blues #transgender warriors #on our backs #lesbianism

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pillarsalt · 2 months

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hi! i was wondering your opinions on how hrt affects the body? i hold a lot of radfem beliefs but i am trans (taking testosterone). would being a woman to you have to be completely about chromosomes? for example, trans men years on T do not have the same genetic makeup as cis women. same with trans women on E, their genetic makeup would be very different to cis men, and would more correlate to cis women. does this factor in who you consider female/male or having experience as women?

Hi there, thanks for reaching out.

Firstly, I think you may be a bit confused. Taking exogenous hormones does not affect your genetic makeup. Your dna will stay the same unless you're exposed to something extreme like radiation - this is a good thing because dna mutation is bad for you and causes cancer! Your genetic sex is immutable, a person with XY chromosomes cannot have their dna altered to have XX chromosomes instead.

Hormones will affect the expression of your genes, for example turning on facial hair production in women who are taking testosterone. This is why those patterns of facial hair, even in women, differ from person to person. The genes for it were already there, but hormone replacement therapy uses the endocrine system to change what signals get sent to your genes to tell them what features to express.

Beyond chemically induced genetic expression, there are particular physical features in males that do not occur in males, and vice versa. This is a feature of the /ancient/ evolution of sexual reproduction. Despite the variety of metaphysical beliefs about identity and personhood, the truth is that humans evolved to reproduce between two sexes, and human beings cannot change sex. Every cell of your body has your sex encoded within it. This affects us physically in many ways. I and most feminists believe that this fact should be irrelevant to any person's ability to pursue their passion, be themselves, and love who they love. Even so, recognition of biological sex is something important. This is really critical in a medical context. For example: men who receive a blood transfusion from a pregnant or recently pregnant woman have an increased risk of death by transfusion-related lung injury. Another example: tracheostomy tubes differ in size depending on sex due to dimorphism in average tracheal diameter. A women who is reported as a male risks considerable injury by having a male sized tracheostomy tube forced into her windpipe. A considerable amount of medications differ in dose effectiveness and side effects based on biological sex. Something as straightforward as a heart attack has different symptoms depending on if the patient is female or male. Denial of biological sex is dangerous, and as it stands, medical science has not advanced enough to change the biological sex of an individual. If you are born male, you will stay male for your entire life. You say that a transwoman who has taken estrogen is more genetically similar to a woman, I'm sorry but that simply isn't true. A male person will always be more genetically similar to other males than to a female person.

Determination of sex is very simple, it's about the easiest genetic test to do. They have kits for high school classrooms to try out ffs. We need to leave the "meaningful sex change is possible through medical intervention" thing in the past, all we accomplish with that is giving people false hope and an unattainable goal to fixate on. Sex is real and immutable, I wish it didn't matter, but it does.

And why it matters is, maleness and femaleness have become inseparable from certain stereotypes and assigned qualities by societies in human history. Overwhelmingly, the male people subjugate the female people. Since men, male humans, discovered womens' ability to give birth could be taken advantage of, it was capitalized upon. And this is the foundation of patriarchal society. Religions were founded to justify this as the will of god. To deny that women have historically been persecuted due to their sex is, well, misogynistic. There is no "woman feeling" that makes us targets for child marriages, FGM, trafficking/prostitution, and other horrors from the minute we're born and even before. No, it's the sex we were born with that makes the world think it can decide our fate. In fact, the way that people treat male children differently from female children is so different so early, that we are genuinely unable to study human behaviour unaffected by gendered expectations. This is what feminists are talking about when they discuss "socialization". There is not a single man on the planet who knows exactly what it's like to see the world from a woman's eyes, no matter how feminine that man is. Womanhood isn't something you can achieve or acquire through effort: you were either born a woman or you weren't, just like you were either born with detached earlobes or not. It's so simple.

All that to get to my final point: Yes, I believe the definition of womanhood comes down to biology, because anything beyond that is a meaningless stereotype. Women can do anything, be anyone, look any way they want, go through any experience they do. The one thing they have in common is that they are female adult human beings. There is not way to fail at being a woman or do it wrong, you just are. Womanhood is the experience of having been a female person in this world, and nothing else. There are certain things only female human beings need, like abortion and female contraceptive rights, access to spaces where we can be safe from our subjugators (male human beings), and the ability to define ourselves and fight for our collective rights.

(At this point you may object and point out that male people who identify as trans women are also subject to violence and scorn from men: unfortunately that is often the case, but this does not make male people who identify as women, well, female. We need solutions for them that do not involve requiring women to sacrifice our comfort and safety for the sake of a particular subset of men, because of the inherent risks involved and the fact that women do not owe men anything even when those men have it bad.)

One last thing: my opinion is that prescribing exogenous cross-sex hormones is unethical (so are all elective cosmetic medical procedures but that's a post for a different day). I understand the distress that gender dysphoria inflicts on people, however the ill effects of hrt are too numerous to condone. The huge increase in risk of stroke with estrogen, heart disease and uterine atrophy with testosterone, and the way that trans medicine studies are notorious for losing followup with patients after a year or less... it's short sighted and frankly, financially motivated. The amount of trans patients who are prescribed hormones without access to an endocrinologist, it's honestly infuriating. People deserve the best care possible, not lab rat bullshit where they cut you loose when it's not working out. I won't judge anyone for what they do to themselves to cope with distress, but I want everyone, especially girls, to be aware of the lifetime effects medical decisions may have, and that you also can find happiness within yourself without hurting your body.

Thanks again for your question, be well ✌️

#ask

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xxlovelynovaxx · 2 months

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This is gonna wait a bit to come out of drafts, but I'm actually spitting mad at that exchange between me and another user about the distinction between assigned sex and assigned gender. Despite bending over backwards to avoid upsetting them or making them defensive, as an intersex person, I felt like they downplayed the significance of how assigned sex at birth is weaponized as a form of violence against both intersex and trans people.

So I'm going to state now. AGAB and ASAB are treated as the same thing much of the time, but will be used however works to enforce both sex and gender conformity. Even if perisex trans people - and typically those who have a dyadic-passing body - only experience the weaponization of assigned gender most of the time, intersex people experience both regularly. "Male" and "female" may frequently be used as adjectives meaning "man" and "woman" to be transphobic, but they are used entirely differently to enforce intersexism and altersexism, and some other forms of exorsexism.

As much as I hope someday that perisex male and perisex female will be treated as just areas within the spectrum of sex, they currently ARE different from intersex variations. I don't even disagree that bodies shouldn't be sexed OR gendered, and we should just refer to specific body parts, outside of contexts of intersex oppression.

How hard is it to listen to an intersex person who is saying "actually, people are assigned a sex at birth, it's just that if you're not intersex, you don't face violence about it and in fact benefit from it and hold privilege over intersex people"?!

How hard is it, when someone extremely gently says "okay actually, ASAB as a concept does exist and is important; but you're right that ASAB and AGAB are conflated, that sex itself is gendered because of the conflation of the two, and that both are used to uphold intersexism AND transphobia"?

How freaking hard is it, when I say "yes, but", when I'm AGREEING that AGAB is a thing, a thing that does massive harm - that "but I'm referring to your physical sex" is a bunch of bullshit - that yes in usage male and female are often used to refer to gender rather than sex, to acknowledge that assigned sex can ALSO be a problem?

How hard is it to acknowledge that assigned sex is a form of (colonial, often racist, intersexist, often transphobic, exorsexist) violence, that is as harmful and at least as prevalent as that of assigned gender?

How hard is it to let go of the idea that assigned gender is the only thing that exists or matters, just because you've universalized your own experiences?

If they are intersex, I am not aware of it, and would still like to point out that intersex people too have a wide variety of experiences. I, for example, have only experienced coercive hormonal suppression of my intersex variation, at ages 9-12 and 18-23 (if I have said before that it was only in adulthood, it's because most of us don't have access to pre-2021 memories due to trauma). I have not, to my knowledge, experienced nonconsensual surgery - it's still possible that I did especially given my infant (specific type of related) trauma, but given my early life history I am unlikely to EVER be able to find record of such.

(Being honest, I've suspected it more and more lately, but I still will not consider myself an authority on the subject or that specific kind of survivor without at least more evidence of such.)

Anyway, point being, even as an intersex person, it is possible to have assigned sex weaponized to various extents, and not consistently, either. Some people may have very visible intersex traits and have been lucky in not facing too much intersexism, while others may have more covert variations and faces extremely violent intersexism.

But is it really that hard to say "huh, I hadn't considered that viewpoint, if people of the [oppressed sex group] are saying that assigned sex is a thing and even that it also affects the people of [oppressed gender group] and how assigned gender is used to hurt us, maybe I should listen"?!

I just... just talking about how it's used in the context of assigned gender when responding to someone talking about other uses, and even asserting that the assigned gender type is the "primary" usage? Estimated numbers when including medically debated but community-accepted intersex variations put us at potentially ten percent or more of the population, so is that really the road you want to go down? because your claim might be revealed very simply as anecdotal bias.

I mean.

"we aren't assigned sexes. we are assigned genders based on our sexes, unless our sex is "too ambiguous"."

To start with, intersex variations are more than sex being "too ambiguous", and in fact precisely because so many intersex people have seemingly dyadic sex organs at birth, even those who don't undergo coercive infant surgery are often wrongfully assigned a dyadic sex at birth, and then forced to conform to that sex if their intersex variation at any point becomes apparent in any way. Often, if the intersex variation is not apparent in specific gendered ways, things like genetic results will be hidden from people by doctors so that they won't find out they're intersex.

And.

"just because society tried constructing sex and gender as the same thing doesn't mean that a group that is harmed by that idea has to promote it, you know."

Yeah, the solution to that is not "actually all terms used to refer to sex are basically only used for gender. It's harmful to conflate sex with gender so I'm going to pretend that everyone does it and talk about how assigned sex and sex terms are actually just assigned gender and gender terms. Well, primarily, since I have to acknowledge someone whose experiences directly contradict that, but they're an outlier and don't need to be counted. I'm not conflating sex and gender, I'm just saying that sex isn't a category that really exists in any meaningful way and is so heavily gendered that sex is really just gender.

Okay, maybe the outlier part is too snarky and not entirely accurate, but that's what it feels like.

I mean, the worst part is, I agree with most of what they're saying. I think "perisex" is a more important distinction from intersex than "male and female". I agree that bodies shouldn't be arbitrarily genderwd OR sexed and that ideas like "male and female hormones" are not only extremely reductive but are so to the point of often being actively incorrect, even within the context of the purely prescriptivist medical usage of male and female for sex specifically!

I even like the idea of using wolffian and mullerian to make it clear that they're simply two areas within a wider spectrum. I agree that sex terms are heavily gendered, though crucially one of the things I mentioned is knowing plenty of people who don't use them that way!

"Actually I know plenty of people who don't conflate sex and gender, and use sex as a descriptivist identity separate from gender."

"Okay but most people use male and female to mean man and woman".

Even if that's true, you're missing all of my whole points!

I just... am tired of feeling pushed aside as an intersex person, even when attempting to pander to presumed perisex egos. Is it really that hard just to make an individual who is of an identity that in my personal experience is more erased than my own, trans, nonbinary, and aspec identities collectively feel listened to?

We blocked them, which honestly I feel bad for. We were triggered and a protector did it and I don't feel comfortable undoing it, because of how badly triggered we were and how deeply unable we felt to express our own upset without them reacting emotionally in a hurtful way.

That could be the trauma speaking, but as we told our partner, "if you put up a hand to be like 'whoa hey wait a second' and someone pushes back lightly in response, it's pretty rare that escalating and saying 'hey! that's not okay!' will get them to back off and apologize. There's cases where it can make someone realize that you're serious about something important to you, but usually those cases require them already knowing you well enough to both recognize that and care."

Idk, it's not like they did anything so terrible. Like I said, I agree with them for the most part. Maybe I'm as angry at myself for not being able to be more firm and assertive about something that's critical to the oppression I face. I dunno, y'know?

But I just... I can't stand it. And as a brief aside, I feel like I'm living in a funhouse mirror upside-down world. I just got into an argument and blocked someone for saying that gender isn't actually a real intrinsic identity and that it's simply a social construct typically expressed through changing the actual concrete identity of sex, and now this, a discussion of how assigned sex isn't actually a real identity and that it's just the social construct of assigned gender and just.

SEX AND GENDER ARE BOTH SOCIAL CONSTRUCTS AND INNATE INTRINSIC IDENTITIES THAT ARE THEMSELVES DESCRIPTIVIST AND THEREFORE CANNOT BE PRESCRIPTIVELY APPLIED BASED ON ANY OUTWARD TRAITS OF BODY OR PRESENTATION!

You can basically identify as any gender or any sex for any reason. You can identify as male or female or other as a trans man, woman, or nonbinary person. You can pursue sex nonconformity but identify as male or female, or you can conform to a dyadic sex but not identify as either (such as identifying as altersex) for various reasons.

Someday, if we achieve true transhumanism, we might even be able to change any aspect of sex at any time, from the microscopic to macroscopic level.

Right now, we're stuck with a bunch of bullshit of people trying to shove two massive roughly bimodal distributions into two binaries that they don't fit into at all, and the resulting violence at people who defy and resist being shoved.

The trans community has as much a problem with intersexism as any other community, so maybe that's just why I have an expectation that especially when a fucking trans intersex person says "hey actually assigned sex does exist and it's intersexist and transphobic", that the bare minimum response should not be "but actually people mostly use male and female to mean man and woman so assigned gender is more of a thing and more harmful and actually sex is so gendered that most people don't actually mean assigned sex when talking about it".

Because I'm telling you that plenty DO actually mean sex, and that it's harmful, and the gendering of sex disproportionately affects intersex people. I think expecting someone to listen and not to essentially go "well okay but, I'm right about it just mainly being assigned gender" - to not argue however politely and speak over intersex voices... well, it's not fucking unreasonable!

I know that was not their intent, and honestly, that makes it worse. Because not being able to take criticism from intersex people when being intersexist, quite honestly, means you have the same impact as purposely intersexist people and makes you just as unwilling to change, but you get "credit" from other perisex people for "trying" despite not really doing so at all.

The fact that it's so subtle, and so "polite", the fact that if I assertively and vocally disagree I know to expect the majority of people to get angry and cruel and more overt with their intersexism, the fact that it's deflection and a lack of acknowledgement more than outright denial... well, I guess the closest word would be "microaggressions".

Used to make minorities look and feel "crazy" for being upset since oppression first existed. (Fucking reclaimed, btw. Don't @ me).

I dunno. I'm not eloquent. I'm a seething intersex person who doesn't have nice little words to appease people about this. It doesn't matter anyway. This is literally about how people didn't listen when I was nice about it, so who is gonna stop listening just because I'm mad about it?

Honestly, I think I'm most mad that - not once did they actually even say the word intersexism. Not once did they respond in a way that even acknowledged what I was saying about that, or my identity as an intersex person even. Not once did they even say "okay yeah I don't have experience with (this kind of) intersexism, my experience is of it being primarily used this way". Not once did they not only not express that their experience might not be universal, but that intersex people even face oppression for their sex. There was a token mention of intersex people at the beginning that didn't even include most intersex people, based on a misconception of what being intersex is.

At every opportunity, they redirected it back to the gendering of sex and using sex terms as gendered terms and even the idea that bodies shouldn't be gendered at all... all while never addressing the actual thing I was saying.

All while ignoring assigned sex as it pertains to intersexism and continuing to insist that only assigned gender was a thing, while not actually taking intersex experiences into account.

It's just... I don't fucking know. Just fucking listen to intersex people. Whatever.

#intersexism #exorsexism #gender #AGAB #ASAB #intersex

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