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mediocrevideopodcast · 1 month

Note

First I need you to know I absolutely love the way you write rocky! He feels so in character!

Second I saw requests are open so speaking of rocky: imagine if reader was a wealthy client who helps fund the speakeasy but they're only really there for rocky

like everyone else thinks it's pretty obvious they're into him but I imagine rocky would be clueless lol

(can be neutral or fem pronouns, whichever you prefer :) )

A/N: Thank you so much! I'm always worried that I'm a little too heavy-handed with his speech patterns, so I'm glad that it comes off right! And wow, I loved this idea so much! I got a little bit carried away with this it, actually -- never let it be said that I don't love this silly cat. Buckle in friends, it's gonna be a long one -- 3.4k, to be exact. Thank you all for all of the lovely asks and reblogs thus far -- because as much as I love writing, it's all of you that keep that fire burning when times get rough. Enjoy!

Content Warnings: None! Gender neutral reader, no pronouns or presentation indicators used.

Deafening raindrops turn into quiet pitter patters as you descend the long, spiraling staircase into the speakeasy. Comforting and familiar walls lift your spirits from the dreary outside world, caked in gloomy clouds and ever-growing smog. You wipe your boots on the doormat as you reach the bottom of the stairs, frowning a little when you notice just how far the mud splashed up the leather.

What a shame -- you'll have to clean them off when you get home tonight. Lord knows how your coworkers love to gossip, and with how calm things have been lately, they're just itching for something to discuss. Like how the head doctor has mud on their evening boots… after a heavy rain. How scandalous.

You're pulled from your thoughts by the gentle voice of the doorman, peering over at you with a hint of concern -- Horatio, you think his name was? Sweet boy.

"Is everything alright, Doctor?"

You tear your eyes away from your shoes, smiling kindly.

"Of course," you chirp, "Just a bit of mud. Do be careful when you head out tonight. That suit looks nice on you, I'm sure you wouldn't want it getting dirty."

He straightens his posture at the compliment, adjusting his cufflinks with an endearing -- if not a little overenthusiastic -- nod. Content, you smooth out your outfit and move forward once again. You stride through the door, flashing your pin for formality's sake, and slink into the main room with a neatly contained excitement of your own.

Red satin curtains line the wall, contrasting beautifully with the natural grey stone -- the Lackadaisy speakeasy has a unique atmosphere, and despite having seen it no less than a hundred times, it never ceases to light a twinge of admiration within you. You weave between the towering stone pillars, letting your eyes rake across the room as you pad towards the bar. But… something is missing. Or, more aptly, someone.

The barstool squeaks in protest when you plop down at the bar, brows furrowed. Although before you're allowed to stew in your disappointment, a drink is placed in front of you. You look up, meeting eyes with the tall cat in front of you. Victor Vasko, resident bartender, for lack of a better word. He glowers down at you, although you know him well enough by now -- it's hard to be intimidated when you know his scowl is all but carved into his face.

You're also acutely aware that you're one of the last benefactors of St. Louis' finest speakeasy.

You slide a ten across the bar -- more than enough to cover drinks for the night, if not everyone else's too -- before swirling the drink in your glass. The amber liquid dances just shy of the rim before settling back down against the ice -- it's liquid gold in these parts, and they call it that for more reasons than one. You don't miss the subtle widening of Victor's eyes as he pockets the money and moves to the other end of the bar, presumably to clean -- or more aptly, shatter -- a handful of glasses.

Sweetness cascades over your tongue when you raise the glass to your lips -- it's a far cry from the common coffin varnish. That is to say, it's a luxury reserved only for new patrons… and those with deep pockets. You smile to yourself, savoring the taste. It's not the greatest drink in the world. Even a priest could tell you that. It's bitter, and burns in a way that tells you that its creator would really prefer to put the "fire" in firewater over anything else… and yet you couldn't fathom going anywhere else. It's not like you're aiming to get drunk here, anyways.

"So," Zib drawls, lumbering onto the bar stool next to you, "What's a man gotta do to get a drink around here?"

You huff a laugh into the glass, rolling your eyes. "Sorry, I only buy drinks for pretty boys."

He leans forward onto the bartop, leaning his head on his arms and gazing at you. His eyes are half-lidded, pupils lazily tracking your glass as you raise it to your lips. It's hard to tell if he's just tired, or if he's already gotten a headstart on drinking tonight. You'd put money on the "all of the above" option, if you could.

"I can bat my eyelashes if you want," he says. "Jesus Christ, shut up," you laugh, swatting at him but waving down Victor nonetheless. He stomps over, rolling his one visible eye, but acquiesces and pours him a drink at your soft smile. It's clearly a cheaper alcohol, but Zib doesn't seem to mind. He seems to prefer it, if anything. He takes a strong drink, sighing at the burn. He pulls himself up from his crossed arms, leaning back with a groan.

"Thank God, I don't know enough violin to pull anything else off. Or Shakespeare."

"Hey!" You sputter, kicking his leg beneath the countertop, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing." He hums, pausing. Sips. Tilts the glass. "Just that you seem to have a favorite here, no shame in that. Other than the fact that you've chosen the strangest man in all of St. Louis to set your sights on."

"Excuse me, for one, I don't play favorites. And two, he is-- he isn't…" Swirling the liquid around in your own glass, you furrow your brow. When nothing comes to mind you take a sip of your own, thinking.

You know well enough that your protests are just for show at this point. It's become a near-daily point of banter between the two of you, considering how obvious you are in your affections. Many moons have come and gone since Wick showed you the Lackadaisy, but unlike the astral body, your interest in Rocky Rickaby has never waned.

It's hard to remember what kickstarted your affections for him -- maybe it was his natural lyricism, or perhaps his flair for theatrics. Maybe it was his unwavering spirit, or his penchant for getting into trouble. If you asked Wick, you're sure he'd tell you that you were simply attracted to the danger he brings with him, but he's never seen the way his eyes sparkle when he's excited. He's never seen the way he glows when he's truly happy -- not like you do, anyways. Maybe it was a combination of all of those things and more. What you do know is that…

"He's got his own charm. He's different, yes, but I like different. But again," you say, looking at him over the rim of your glass, "I don't play favorites."

Zib chuckles, shaking his head, but says nothing. You wait one breath, then two.

Silence.

You scoff, muttering to yourself. "Set my sights on… You make it sound like I'm picking out a dog at the pound."

He grins, and you sense that you've fallen directly into his trap. Damn it.

"He'd bark if you asked him to."

"Oh, you reprobate," you exclaim, laugh tinging the edges of your words. You swat at him once again, this time making contact. You'd like to say he choked on his drink, or sputtered at your attack, but this has become such a song and dance that really, you'd be more surprised if he didn't expect it. "You're incorrigible, you know."

"Just being honest," he says.

You shake your head, sipping lazily at your glass before slipping back into easy conversation. It's nice to simply chat the hours away with him -- despite his dour outward demeanor, he's quite good at keeping a conversation going. His taste in literature doesn't hurt much, either, nor does your own affability towards his own theatrics. For as much shit as he gives Rocky, he isn't all too much better in the drama department.

You weren't always treated so casually -- the memory of Mitzi all but batting Zib and Rocky away from you still brings a smile to your face. Hell, you're sure if Mitzi heard the dreary remarks falling from Zib now, she'd pick up the broomstick again… if only for her own sanity. But once it became clear that you'd sunk your claws into their best -- and up until recently, only -- rumrunner, the air changed.

You don't have to guess why -- everyone's been plenty clear about it.

'If Rocky hasn't driven you away yet, there's not much anyone else can do to scare you off.'

You cast a look over your shoulder every now and again, glancing at the door, aflutter with anticipation. It's impossible to hear the rain this far down into the cave system, although it's unlikely that the rain has let up at all considering the torrential downpour you weathered just a few short hours ago. You nervously bite at your lips, forcing your head back into the conversation.

'It's just the storm holding him up,' you tell yourself.

You vaguely realize that somewhere along the way your simple affection and interest has bloomed into something more all-consuming, and you can only hope that Zib doesn't catch your sudden fluster. Best to file that thought away for later.

-----

It's half past midnight when Rocky waltzes through those towering wooden doors, caked damn-near head to toe in mud. His suit seems to have taken the brunt of it, although the drying flakes embedded in his fur and the single symmetrical pair of clean streaks along his lapel tell a story all on their own. He clasps two bottles in his hands, mysteriously absent of any dirt or grime.

Calvin is hot on his heels too, pupils pinpointed with what you assume are the remnants of adrenaline. He too comes through the door with bottles of what you presume is liquor, although he certainly has an… abundance compared to Rocky. Because for Rocky's two, Calvin anxiously clutches no less than eight bottles to his chest. He practically waddles through the door, more out of fear than exertion. He, however, is almost entirely clean of grime… save for his pant legs, which are all but drenched.

�� Once Calvin is past the doorway Ivy comes skipping through too, hands wrapped around her own pair of bottles. Her wardrobe seems to be in slightly worse condition than Calvin's. Mud dapples her sweater, and the twigs tangled in her fur so abundant that you could probably call her a fire risk. But she seems joyful nonetheless as prances past Calvin and falls in line right behind Rocky in his march towards the bar. You realize in the back of your mind that she's chatting happily with Calvin behind her, although the words turn to water in your mind as you gaze at Rocky. If he's noticed you yet, he gives no indication. His tail, slicked thin with muck, flicks happily behind him. Small drops of mud hit the stone floor, causing Calvin to flinch back and clutch the bottles tighter to his chest. There must be a story there, you think to yourself.

You huff out a laugh -- partially out of amusement, and partially out of relief. You'll have to ask for the story of tonight's escapade later on.

"Praise be to the rain, protector of your ever faithful moonlight servants," Rocky finally reaches the other end of the bar, placing the bottles down with a thunk. He spins, his back towards you as he casts a hand in the air with a flourish. The smile that stretches across your face is painfully lovesick, if the way Zib nudges you gives you any indication, but you pay him no mind as you lean forward to watch the show.

"For such modern ventures, we need no stream to wrench forth our gold from the Earth, dearest raindrops. Rather, it is you, oh dearest clouds who bring us such prosperity, such joy. It is--" he spins back towards you, locking eyes. He stiffens, blinking owlishly. A moment passes before his eyes sparkle in that perfect way you've come to adore, fangs peeking beneath his lips as his expression changes into a grin, and then a beam.

"You," he moves across the floor towards you, stretching his arms out for a moment before realizing his state of dress and letting his arms fall back at his sides. His tongue darts between his lips, practically buzzing with excitement as he pads towards you.

(You briefly catch the shocked looks of his, quite literal, partners in crime. Eyes wide, the two look at each other inquisitively, then at him, then back at one another. Clearly they're shocked at his willingness to drop his monologue, and the feeling is mutual. It makes the smile stretch further across your face, and you realize that if he hadn't silently retracted the offer, you would have accepted the hug, velvet be damned.)

You spin your stool to face him, pushing your drink to the side with a wave in his direction. And it should be illegal for anyone to be so damn cute, because the way he lights up -- at your acknowledgement? At your excitement to see him? -- sends a hot flush through your cheeks that has you melting from the inside out. Up close you realize that despite (somewhat) clearing himself of mud, he wasn't able to keep entirely dry from the rain. Water drips down his nose, and you fight back the obnoxiously domestic thought of drying his fur for him. Tender looks and loving touches, of hands carding through fur… It's soon replaced by the vision of him toweling off himself, and Christ, something so mundane shouldn't be so damn attractive. That too, you tuck away for later.

He stops at your feet, eyes crinkled with mirth.

"I didn't think you'd still be here," he says, leaning against the bar countertop. Although he quickly notices the muddy stain he's left, and while he does pull back to attempt to clean it… it's not like there's much clean real-estate left on his suit to wipe with. You giggle -- honest to god, giggle -- at his antics, and just like that his attention is pulled back to you. He leans back against the countertop, resting his face against his hand. It squishes his cheek with a boyish charm, ears flicking towards your voice. It's cute. He's cute.

"Well, I wouldn't want to miss my favorite…" Heat rises to your face at your own use of the word 'favorite.' Zib will never let you live this one down.

"...Musician."

Said cat snickers behind you, and oh yeah, you really aren't living this one down. It takes a lot of willpower not to shove him off the barstool then and there. But Rocky simply waves his free hand at him before turning it upwards, fingers splayed. It's clear that he's attempting to be casual in his body language, but the energy in his voice and barely hidden beam ousts his joy at your praise.

"Pay him no heed, dearest muse. Now, what form of entertainment would you desire tonight? Pick a key, any key! Through spoken word or melodic strings--"

Any other night you'd be enraptured with his rambling, but tonight you seem to get lost in his words. Your eyes rake across his face, taking in the little details that make him, him. You're only a little ashamed at the way your eyes keep darting to his lips while he speaks -- truthfully, you're more embarrassed at the longing it sparks within you. Maybe you should have taken the time to unpack this earlier, but alas. You force your eyes upwards, taking in how his own bright blue ones shine with excitement, before letting them fall once again.

And Rocky is nothing if not unique. The bridge of his nose tells stories beyond your imagination -- no matter how many times he tries to tell you their stories. They all just seem too wild to be true -- littered with little dots and lines that you could connect like constellations, they convey decades worth of life. A knife trick accident here, a wire snap there… allegedly, a horde of bees created many of the smaller dots. An experiment from youth gone wrong, he said, but you can't imagine he'd do anything different if presented with the opportunity again. Your lips upturn at the thought, and let your eyes roam to his cheeks: his fur bounces with every word he speaks, but even still, you can see little uneven patches. A thin line here and there, not quite reaching skin; a patch that's just a fraction shorter than the rest; all from recent incidents that simply came a little too close. But on his left cheek there's something new, something that you've never seen before.

There's one last streak of mud on his face that, clearly, he had missed. You're so focused on the mark that you hardly even feel yourself move to grab your handkerchief.

"--But in an art such as this, moderation is for the weak. If you'll give me just five minutes I'll have--"

He stills at your gentle touch, halting his speech for the second time tonight. His fur is softer than you expected, despite its dampness from the rain outside. You tilt his head upwards by just a fraction, your thumb and index gently holding his chin in place. Stricken with a sudden wave of adoration, you drag your thumb experimentally across what you can reach. The movement is so painfully fond and oh, so close -- just millimeters away from his lips. It's a gentle action that lasts no more than a second -- hell, maybe you didn't even realize you were doing it -- but it feels like a lifetime to him. He thought he'd get used to the lightheadedness that you always seem to inflict upon him, but he couldn't be more wrong. And before he has any time to recover, you're dabbing at his cheek with a silken cloth.

And for all your observations tonight, you end up missing the way his breath catches in his throat. You miss the way he leans into you by just a fraction, how his eyes widen at your softness; how they take to memorizing every contour of your face in awe; how he melts in your hold, like he's never been held with such kindness before. He doesn't think he has.

And that's nothing to say of all the things you can't see -- how his heart leaps into his chest, pounding so hard he's half sure you can see it through his shirt; how he prays for the world to stop just as it is now, so that he could enjoy this for just a few more seconds. How he's so sure that he's dreaming, but far too joyful to even consider pinching himself awake.

He's so enraptured with your touch that he hardly even processes your movements. It's only once you lean in -- close, so damn close, so easy to close the gap -- to get a better look at the spot that he finds his voice again.

"Oh, you don't have to, it's--" he curses himself for stumbling, for being so breathless in your presence, considering your previous praise for his eloquence. He doesn't know why you keep coming back here, why you keep entertaining him as you do, but he's not going to complain. He swallows, counting to five before starting again with renewed, albeit artificial, confidence. "I'm sure that lovely, lovely silk piece cost you quite the pretty penny."

And this time, it's your turn to blink owlishly. You look at the cloth, then back at him, before laughing softly. And just like that you're leaning back in, once again coaxing the mire from his face. It's silent between the two of you for just a moment, so quiet that you damn near forget where you are. And in a moment of courage, you up his face in full. You feel his jaw clench beneath your hand, emboldening you to push just a bit further. You catch his eye, smiling softly.

"You know money doesn't mean a thing to me, Rocky," you murmur, just loud enough for the two of you to hear.

A million words are left silently humming in the gap between you, a million words you hope he can pick up on in your silence. 'Not when it's you,' you think to yourself. 'I'd give up every penny for just another second with you.'

There's a glimmer in your eyes that can only be described as fond, and he basks in it before you turn back to your task. This time, he doesn't stop you.

#lackadaisy x reader #rocky rickaby x reader #lackadaisy rocky x reader #lackadaisy imagines #roark rickaby x reader #divider by @cafekitsune #you know with how often i write about rainy days you'd think its raining a lot here. it isn't. i just have a rainy jazz playlist.

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notruevampire · 11 months

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I don't know who needs to hear this, but your trans friend, sister, or daughter can be a tomboy. She can like playing soccer with the boys and want short hair. She may choose to abandon those things to get people to believe her that she's a girl, but she shouldn't have to. There are no answers for this paradox right now except for you to outshout and outvote bigots. Especially if you know them personally.

Your trans friend, brother, or son can know he's a boy even though he likes to play with girls because they make better friends. He can enjoy dolls and skirts on his own terms.

Your nonbinary friend, sibling, or child can continue performing the gender roles they were assigned at birth without being any less nonbinary.

Gender isn't presentation. It isn't interests. It isn't social roles. These vary among trans and nonbinary people, too. You can be both trans or nonbinary and gender nonconforming.

And your GNC friends need to be reassured when they let society gaslight them into thinking they aren't trans enough, androgynous enough, extra enough, etc. You don't need to hype them harder. You don't need to overcompensate. The best thing you can do is treat them just like you would a cis person of their gender (with nonbinary people, just follow their requests and/or offer to use new names, pronouns, etc).

All anyone wants is to find a little bit of happiness in this world, to be loved, to live as themselves.

It's so easy to overthink. It's not always easy to adjust, but you will in time. I promise. You just have to trust the process.

And believe in yourself, too.

#Gender #gender nonconforming #transgender #Trans #Nonbinary #non bianry

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sa1t0r1 · 1 year

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wondering if you would do hc’s of mercs w reader that comes out to them as trans? happy new years btw man!

Coming out as trans to the mercs

I am so sorry I can’t even lie but I totally forgot about this page also this might not be entirely accurate because I’m a cis guy, I apologise if anything sounds inaccurate </3 I did try to research a little bit before writing this though so I hope I’m using the right terminology

I tend to repeat myself a bit sometimes as well so these might start to sound similar at points

Scout

He is so clueless, he’s never considered that maybe some people aren’t happy in their bodies before. The concept is foreign to him so you’re going to have to sit him down and explain the ins and outs thoroughly. Once he wraps his head around it he’s very conscious of catering to your new identity wether it’s through gifting you things to help you pass or through trying his best to refer to you with the correct name and pronouns (although he will definitely slip up for the first few months, you’re going to have to correct him sometimes)

Soldier

Similar to Scout, he is very uneducated and might need some help fully comprehend the topic at hand. It might take longer to get Soldier to understand though, he’s a little bit slow. Once he understands he is very happy to refer to you with labels that validate your gender more although he doesn’t think before he speaks, he’s a very sporadic person so he’s going to slip up a lot at first. Despite his little mistakes he would do his best to correct the others frequently and make sure you’re comfortable. After you first come out to him he runs off to begrudgingly find either Spy or Medic to ask for advice on what he can do for you.

Pyro

Pyro is a little bit different to the others, they understand your situation but as they’re muffled by their gas mask you can’t quite hear how they refer to you unless they’re signing. They are, however, very happy to switch the gendered signs they use when talking to or about you. They don’t mess up at all, it’s very easy for them to accept you and they’re happy to sit and listen to you talk about any troubles you might experience.

Heavy

He understands but if you can’t explain it in Russian you might need the help of a translator for him to connect the dots. He’s foreign but he’s not stupid, he has heard of people struggling with dysphoria before and he’s very sorry you have to experience that. He takes the information with a grain of salt in that he feels terrible knowing you feel discomfort, as a result he does the upmost to help you through giving you tips on how to present better and clothing that better suits your true gender.

Engineer

Engineer has a vague idea of what you go through but he urges you to teach him more about it, he’s very curious and would love to know how he can help you feel happier. He adjusts to the changes pretty fast and once he does he helps to correct and educate the rest of the team.

Demoman

Demo is similar to engineer but he’s going to need a little bit more thorough of an explanation. He gets the hang of it after a week and he goes out of his way to incorporate more pronouns into his sentences just so he can validate you. He’s happy to go shopping with you rather than surprising you with gifts, he wants to see the smile on your face as you try on things you’re comfortable with.

Spy

Already familiar with the topic and understands your situation. Being rich he’s very happy to buy you anything that will help you feel more comfortable with yourself and ease your dysphoria. He’s definitely one of the better mercs when it comes to keeping up with your name and pronouns, he doesn’t forget often and when he does he’s quick to correct himself and apologise to you. Overall he’s both very respectful and very helpful.

Medic

Very familiar with the topic, he hasn’t helped treat dysphoria before but he’s delighted to offer his help. He would eagerly offer you top surgery (deny him, it’s a terrible idea and he just wants to experiment on your organs) aside from that he’s respectful and mindful when it comes to your name and pronouns. He would do his best to give you gender affirming care when he realises how important it is to you, he’s happy to assist in your hormone therapy if you ask and if you don’t he will research the treatment and suggest it to you.

Sniper

He has as very limited knowledge on your situation, he tries his best but he messes up frequently and it eats away at him every time. If he screws up he will apologise to you for 5 minutes straight as he knows how hard it is for you, he’s very sincere and it’s clear that he’s trying his best. Eventually he gets the hang of it though. Similar to Pyro he offers a seat in his van to you wherever you want to tell him more and vent to him about your troubles with dysphoria or transphobia in public. Hearing about your negative experiences never fails to make him angry.

#tf2 headcanons #tf2 x reader #headcanons #tf2 medic #tf2 demoman #tf2 engineer #tf2 heavy #tf2 pyro #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #team fortress 2 headcanons

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

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How about a Hob daughter badass!reader x Morpheus.

Do you know Attack on Titan? An AU where she a soldier in the survey corps or an assassin or spy or something. That would be cool I think 🥹❤️

Mortality

Dream of the Endless x Gadling!Reader

Summary: After a grueling day that's left your clothes, flesh and mind tattered and torn, you hear not only an earful from your father, but as well as the King of Nightmares that lurks in the corner of your room.

Word Count: >900

Warnings: gender neutral!reader, mentions/depictions of injury, survivors guilt, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: this is so wild i love it lets go. edit: idk why i thought i could write anything with AoT lore without having watched it 😬🤪 SO im sorry i just made a hurt/comfort-esque fic where reader is injured and dream freaks out cos hob cant die but his daughter can the req was daughter!reader but i didnt use any gender specific pronouns so ear your heart out. Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @shadow-pancake9 i hope you like it @deniixlovezelda my love <3 <3

"DON'T YOU DARE CLOSE THAT DAMNED D-"

But I did. I closed that damned door as I uninterestedly walked into my room and locked it behind me.

I whine as I clutch the bandages wrapped around my torso. It wasn't because it hurt... well, it did, but it was because my father was barking and banging on the door of my bedroom that I whined.

I ignored him, knowing he'd tire eventually and he'd talk to me levelheadedly after his anger wore off. I move to my desk and grab bandage wraps to replace the ones on my arm.

I open my lamp light, not bothered to open the light of my room cause it was by the door.

I remove my wraps and begin to replace the ones on the deep slash on my bicep. The sound of my father's barking and hammering remind me too much of the sounds from the incident earlier today and so I have to stop my wrapping and cover my ears until he ceases.

Hob Gadling nary waivers when he sets his mind on something though, so it is I that has to adjust. I release a breath and begin to work on my pulsing arm.

By the time the brutalizing on the door stops, I am halfway through wrapping my arm.

It is also the point I feel a presence in the corner of my room. I ignore it in lieu of dressing my wounds.

When I'm done, I huff and seal off bandage, "did my dad call you?"

"No," his voice is deep and harsh. It echoes in the room. He adds, "Hob is far too distressed to think of anything but you presently."

I turn over my shoulder and find a dark figure walking over to me. I do not stand from the side of my bed to greet him. I instead clench my jaw.

"I came here in my on my own volition," Lord Morpheus says once he is before me.

I blink at the sight of his face. His hair is disheveled the way it always it, his eyes are dark yet gleaming as per usual, but there is a certain hardness to his expression, a certain level of force with the press of his lips.

I turn away from him and remove my boots, "feel free to do the same when you leave."

He calls my name. I let it pass through the other ear and roll my shoulders back. I regret it, considering the pain that shoots through my body.

"You are becoming more reckless than ever," the Dream king says.

I throw my boots under my desk and then slowly crawl onto my bed, "thanks. I do it for the attention."

He calls my name out again.

I lean on my pillows and bring my feet under my covers, "I'm joking," I quip dryly.

"Your father and I are very concerned-"

"Well, what do you expect me to do, huh!" I snap, raising a hand, "you expect me to turn the other way when-" I hiss and regret moving my arms as I slightly strain myself.

Dream watches me as I curl up.

"Look," I huff, "I've had a long day. My- my corps--" I hold my tongue, not wanting to continue. I look up at him as he looks down on me with hunched shoulders and a grave expression.

"I am aware," he raises his brows, "of the casualties you h--"

"Then get off my ass!" I snap, lying down, and retreating under my blanket, "I don't need either of you to rub more salt into my wounds."

"Neither of us inten-"

"Neither of you understand what it feels to live at the edge of a blade! Neither of you know what it's like to be ready to give up your life for someone you care about," my eyes begin to water under the sheets, "so don't come here telling me I should have been careful when I am only here because of the so-called recklessness of my friends."

He does not respond this time.

I silently sob under the covers. I wait for him to leave, but I know the feeling of his gaze better than most.

A moment passes. I release a sigh, "go away, Morpheus."

He speaks my name one last time.

I roll on my bed with much difficulty, "you better not come to me in my dreams tonight."

#dream of the endless #dream of the endless fanfic #the sandman fanfic #the sandman x reader #the sandman x you #dream x you #dream fanfic #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x you #morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #the sandman angst #dream of the endless angst #morpheus angst #dream angst #morpheus fanfic

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starry-skies-116 · 1 year

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FUCK IT, NEW PINNED POST THIS TIME!!:

Okay, once again, from the top- top of the mornin' to ya! My humblest and sincerest greetings to all mortals, dragons, demons, spirits, celestial beings and all in between and many more!

I’m your local multifandom enthusiast, I go by the name Starr (Katya and Starry are also fine too)! I’m just your regular Lawful Neutral INFJ Pisces South Indian teen!

I’m a bi-oriented aroace and intersex, and I am genderfluid/nonbinary! Presentation changes from time to time but I really want an undercut tbh. Sexuality is aceflux/abrosexual, while I'm aegoromantic- on that note, I'm still kinda sad that sex-ed in schools isn't LGBTQIA+ friendly yet.

I also have very few but very loving and wonderful IRL friends! Usual pronouns change between she/her, they/them/ he/him and it/its, (blame my conservative neighborhood culture kekw); I am a neopronouns user too!

Also please use tone-tags around me, this user's can't tell a joke from a serious statement a lot of times-

Personality: Hopeless idealist, wants deep companionship, feels lonely and ignored from time to time but that’s aight, life do be like that sometimes though. Sappy poet and writer lol-

I do program and write and draw, but half the time whenever I program I just wrestle with the computer lmfao (ESPECIALLY the standard library like tf)-

DNI: Transphobes, Truscum, Transmeds, TERFS, ableists, anti-cluster B/believe in n@rc abuse, racist, aphobes, homophobes, queerphobes, xenophobic, gender-critical, bigots, LGBTQIA+ exclusionists, thinspo/pro ED, bullies, NSFW/K!nk, anti-agere/agedre, Pro-DDLG and all its variants, P3d0ph!l3s, N@z!s, really anything that makes me feel uncomfortable- just come on here and you're welcome as long as you're not being an ass. (and don't make fun of me for having a DNI, it really isn't that hard to spare me the trouble of blocking you and just... not interact).

Actually REALLY high empathy by modern standards, just figured out I have to turn the tap off a lot because the suffering of other people affects me deeply!

I stim alot irl (playing with hair, foot/leg spazzing out restlessly, vocal echolalia/mimicking choirs, rocking back and forth but never adjusting position, chewing gum a tad too aggressively if I have any- if not then grinding teeth way too much, etc.)

I'm diagnosed with depression and ADHD, and have a lot of symptoms of autism and dyscalculia (because of how genuinely chaotic and dysfunctional I can be at times tbh). I also do descend into major depressive episodes from time to time, though I don't know how to recognize if they're just sensory overloads, meltdowns, brain fog episodes or just bad brain days/symptom days in general.

This bitch has PCOS, anxious intrusive thoughts daily tormenting them, and ass-tier gastrointestinal health™, thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

Multiple fandoms and hyperfixations, including but not limited to:

ROTTMNT, FNAF, Poppy Playtime, Fire Emblem, Genshin Impact, Honkai Star Rail, Demon Slayer/KNY, TMNT, Stranger Things, Star Wars, OMORI, Transformers, Pacific Rim, The Owl House, Zelda, and much more!! Sorry if you're here for any one of these specific fandoms, I tend to aggressively post about my current hyperfixation depending on it lmao-

Additional facts: Kind of a glutton when it comes to food, introvert asf on top of being autistic (doesn’t know how to do human social things), has way too many hobbies/things I find interesting to count! Absolutely fuckin HATES dresses and the unnecessary, excessive femininity of periods (especially when they worsen my gastric issues and give me stool problems)! I DO also age-regress and age-dream from time to time!

I like sweets, rice, potatoes, Middle Eastern and Indian Cuisine (ja I'm primarily South Asian and from a Hindu Telugu family tho) trying different cuisines, dogs (have one, he's named Bruno and he’s a little baby I love him sm), butterflies, sleeping, plushies, space, dragons, fantasy, writing, reading good books, hydrangeas and jasmine flowers, drawing/painting, numbers, napping in the sun/underneath the stars, stargazing, etc.

I strongly dislike spiders, too-spicy food, tofu when it’s cooked wrong, cooking (because I’m a fuckin disaster at it), bigoted people, strong smells and bright lights, difficult people, being bored, y’know, the works.

Aesthetics change from time to time but I love wierdcore, dreamcore, 80’s core, nostalgiacore, fantasycore, faecore, dragoncore, cybercore, kidcore, spacecore, liminalcore, etc.

Will update this Pinned Post from time to time as time goes on and my fluid identity changes, but for now, I’ll keep being me and I hope to get along well with everyone here!

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emmetsboyfriend · 2 years

Text

Not enough trans stuff in the tag so I'm making my own

Submas with a trans partner!

Emmet

Absolutely supportive, 10000%

The quickest to adjust to your new name and pronouns between the two

You find out why once he admits that the day you told him, he stayed up for an hour or two later than he honestly should have practicing them

He was damn near falling asleep at work but it was all worth it when he saw the look on your face when he called you by your name without skipping a beat

Seeing you that happy made his heart melt

It takes every ounce of his willpower not to crush you in the single biggest hug you'd ever have in your life

He'd support you no matter how you decide to transition, or if you even want to transition at all

"I am Emmet and you are Y/N. I want to see you comfortable in your own skin. Do not worry about me, because I will love you no matter what!"

If you're dysphoric, he'll help distract you the best that he can

On really bad days, he'll break out the Blanket Fort and just cuddle you all day.

Cradling your face gently and reminding you how wonderful you are

If you feel nervous about going out in public as the gender you are, he offers to switch up his gender presentation for a day so that you don't feel so alone

If you agree, he casually reveals that he convinced Elesa to switch up her gender presentation for the day as well

You're so stunned at how positive everyone is about elesa's new look that you forget that you were ever nervous in the first place.

He falls in love with you a little more that day.

Ingo

Your loudest supporter, literally and metaphorically

He messes up your pronouns at first, but he's quick to adjust to them

You catch him wearing a pronoun pin at work after a few days and ask him about it, to which he replies:

"I wanted to get in the habit of asking for everyone's pronouns! I noticed that you get nervous about correcting people, so as a public figure I wanted to use my influence to help normalize people asking!"

The look on your face when people start asking for your pronouns a little more often made his whole week.

Is just as supportive as Emmet is no matter how you want to transition, if you choose to transition at all.

He gets this dreamy look in his eye when he sees how happy you are being yourself

Seeing you happy in general makes him feel all mushy inside, but he can see how much happier you are now

And to him? That's a special kind of wonderful

Tries to help alleviate your dysphoria as much as he can, if you feel dysphoric

On bad days he breaks out the Big Blanket and rolls you up like a burrito

He then proceeds to list off every single reason he loves you. It...takes a while.

The first time you go out in public as your gender, he sticks by you the entire time.

He recruits Elesa as well, and together the two of them hype you up all day, completely enthusiastic.

He never takes the pronoun pin off of his jacket.

#writings #submas #submas ingo #submas emmet #emmet x reader #ingo x reader #as a trans dude i love seeing trans headcanons and that goes double for self ship stuff #its so hard to find thoughhh #but i guess thats like half the reason i'm a writer #i'm really nervous posting this aaaaaaa

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lloyds-department · 2 years

Note

what was your transitioning journey like? You've gone through a lot of changes as far as I'm aware, and id love to know when this all started

this is best told in photos so under the cut is like. a timeline?? yeah. None of these pictures will be the best quality

This is around. 2017, 2018, all I know was I was walking home from school and getting ready to go to my first homecoming dance with a bunch of my best friends

here you can see, I'm very feminine presenting with all of the pink/red and the overall just stereotypical girly look. This was when I started thinking, maybe this isn't for me. I originally thought it was because I wasn't attracted to men, and assumed this was because I was a lesbian, and so we go into phase two, this:

now this is a very stereotypical lesbian haircut that came up when I googled it as a younger teen. This was close to what I felt the more butch/masculine feeling and for a while I was comfortable with this and rolled with it, assuming all was normal. My buddy had started having his gender crisis at the time, which kick-started MY gender crisis. I jumped very quickly into being a man, a transgender man, because I assumed that was the only thing I could be. So now we're here;

I tried coming out to my parents as a trans man and sure enough they had a talk with me and told me to think on it more. Which I did. I was then at a point, who was I? What is my name? This begins the Adder Era, as I lovingly refer to it as.

The Adder Era is one that a few of you may remember, I was about 14 or 15, and I was just chilling and jumping back and forth between a trans man and a non-binary person. It was at this point I learned I could have more than 1 set of pronouns, and after I met Jace and learned about DSAF. I had broken up with mine and jaces shared ex girlfriend because she was being very sexual very fast and I roll sexy slow. I named myself after Dave Miller from dsaf around the end of 2019 when I was 15. The Dave era complete with art and other things had begin, and I had gotten into a fresh and loving relationship with Jace.. I was Jace's Davey at the time.

over the past couple of years I have definitely had a bunch of name and appearance changes, like David, Thomas, Marshall, Jeremy, and my currents, Michael, Vincent, and Fern. this had it's appearance changes with it:

and now we're here, in my mostly bald era which has definitely been an adjustment and honestly that's fine. It's definitely been crazy the past ~5 years and I wouldn't trade any of it for the world except those years I spent with two ex girlfriends °-°

thank

#i speak to anon #lloyd face tag #a lot. of my face. too much perhaps.

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dysfunctionalcrab · 3 years

Text

cute vets, pets, and boys

Pairing: Quackity x reader

Pronouns: Gender neutral

Description: Tiger needs to go to vets. Over there, his owner meets a cute veterinary assistant (yes, I mean you)

Notes: Doctor Anderson is the name of an actual doctor I shadowed I couldn’t think of anything else okay, leave me alone.

His knee bounced up and down impatiently. The place was unusually packed today.

Tiger sat in his basket, loafed and with his eyes closed. Quackity’s heart ached for the small cat, the poor animal had stopped his regular eating habits. When he filled his bowl, it was only half finished, which was abnormal, since Tiger was usually finished within 10 minutes, and then meowed for some more.

He glanced at the clock, sighing after calculating that he had been been waiting for almost a whole hour, until a vaguely familiar man walked into the room with a clipboard. He was a middle aged man, grey hair and and stubble. He wore giant glasses with black frames. It was only when Quackity’s eyes landed on the name tag pinned to the pocket of his white lab coat, did he realise this was their regular vet.

“Alex!” He called out, looking up from his clipboard and locking eyes with him

Tiger hadn’t been to vet in ages, and when he did, it was usually his mom who took him, so to see him so enthusiastic, or even remember his name, startled him quite a bit.

He stood up, clutching the handle of the cat basket and lifting it off the floor.

“Doctor Anderson?” He tried to play it off as if he wasn’t reading his badge to remember his name.

“How have you been?” The doctor asked him.

“I’ve been good, busy, but good,”

“How are you? How is your mom?”

Quackity tried to be polite, answering all the questions he had. But in reality, he didn’t care about catching up with his vet, especially after waiting an hour of waiting just to even be spoken to while his cat sat miserably in his basket. It had entirely ruined his mood. He just wanted to know what was wrong with his cat.

He was relieved when Doctor Anderson finally ushered him into the room.

The doctor walked in with another man, he looked young. This man was going to be the final patient you assist before finally finishing the veterinary experience course. You took a deep breath and approached them both.

The other guy looked you, not in a weird way, but just to curious to who you were. You offered him a kind smile, and when you started to think wasnt going to, he returned it. Doctor Anderson watched the interaction from across the room.

“This is [Y/N],” he introduced, putting a gentle hand behind your back. “They’ve been shadowing me for the last 2 months, today is their final day,”

Quackity nodded, glancing towards you again, but less soft. Your smile dropped. You started to assume he wasn’t in a good mood today, especially since he probably had a sick animal with you. So, you resorted to standing in the corner of the room, just to observe.

“So then, how can I help you?” The doctor asked him

“I don’t know,” You watched him as he distressedly pushed his hair away, alongside fiddling and adjusting his beanie anxiously. “Tiger just hasn’t been eating lately and it’s been worrying me,”

Doctor Anderson opened up the basket and took out a small tabby cat who you now knew was named ‘Tiger’. Your heart awed at the cat, you loved cats. I mean, you loved animals in general, which was the reason you wanted to help them.

You watched as he started to check the cat, feeling his fur and his body for any irregularities. His face was fully focused, eyebrows furrowing. You could tell the owner was nervous since he was rubbing the seam of his shirt aggressively between his finger and thumb.

“Has Tiger ever-“

The door suddenly swung open with a loud creak. All your heads snapped towards the entrance, another doctor stood there, her face a little sweaty and she was huffing, completely out of breath

“Doctor- we need you please, it’s urgent,” She stated.

The doctor looked at you, and then looked at the cat, and then looked back at you. You felt yourself freeze in fear. You knew what he was asking, and you frantically shook your head, pleading with your eyes that he didn’t leave you alone.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, before taking off and dashing out the room,‘following the tinder woman. He accidentally slammed the door a little hard that the noise startled Tiger. He let out a small and scared meow.

You pursed your lips, looking down sympathetically at the cat. You then looked at his owner, he was giving you a blank, expressionless stare, his brown eyes told you he was a mixture of tired, irritated but concerned. You wondered how long he’d been waiting.

Quackity was nervous around pretty people, he was far from confident. After the way you smiled at him, he felt himself heat up. He’d be lying he if he said he didn’t find you cute.

If you weren’t in such a formal environment, he’d be initiating some sort of casual conversation with you to start things going, if he even knew how to. But now, especially since he had a sick cat with him, wasn’t the ideal situation. Your voice interrupted his train of thoughts.

“So,” you gnawed at your lip nervously. “He’s lost his appetite?

Quackity nodded slowly.

You hummed, observing her on the table. He was a cute little cat, his eyes were glossy and wide. You felt a pain in your chest at the poor thing. You had never been left alone with a patient before, so you were anxious to say the least.

“Has this ever happened before?” You asked

He shook his head. “Uh- no. No it hasn’t.”

You stroked her, he immediately nuzzled into your palm. You and him both locked eyes at the adorable moment.

“He’s cute,” You stated.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “He is.”

He picked up a mental note of your interaction with him. It was uncommon that Tiger relaxed at someone’s touch so easily, usually he would do that at-least within a week of knowing or playing with them. He was also quite aggressive, living up to his name.

“You don’t need to worry, you know, I’m sure he’s fine, the worst it could be is like- kidney disease or something,”

His eyes widened

“Not that it is!” You took back, wishing you could swallow your words back up again. “I didn’t mean it like that, I was just saying that he could-“

He raised an eyebrow at you, this time out of confusion of your rambling.

“I’ll stop talking now.” You muttered to yourself

You felt ridiculous, being so nervous. You couldn’t tell if it was from the pressure, or the fact he had a strong gaze on you.

“I’m going to check his teeth, if that’s okay?” You asked

Quackity stepped back abit from the table. “Yeah, yeah, of course, do whatever you need,”

You patted her head before positioning her so you could look at her mouth. You gently held her head and used your fingers carefully to pull her jaw open. It all looked pretty normal, until your eye fixated on one of her canines that were looking black at the root.

You sighed, observing it a little longer. You smiled, thankful that you found the problem. It was funny to you how this guy hadn’t even thought to check her mouth before-hand.

“Well, we’ve found the problem,” you said. Quackity stepped closer and watched to where you finger was pointing. “Just a bad tooth, it most likely hurts when he eats,”

You smiled at him reassuringly and he relaxed. His Tiger was going to be just fine

“So now what?” Quackity asked you, petting Tiger. He quietly purred

You ran your tongue at the seam of your lips. “I don’t know, I guess. I don’t think if it’s legally permissible for me to diagnose anything or 8 anything- I think,” you spoke awkwardly. “It’s better to just wait for the doctor to come back,”

He nodded again. The silence in the room was making it a little uncomfortable for the both of you, the only thing making it less... weird, was the cute little cat laying on the table.

“So, how long have you been shadowing him again?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, he was clearly just trying to make conversation with you to diffuse the awkwardness.

“For two months,” you answered. “Today is actually my last day.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, kind of disappointed actually, this experience has been quite nice. Now it’s back to textbooks and PowerPoint presentations, it’s like being stuck back in high school”

“I get that. Law school is just case after case and it can get boring sometimes,”

“Law school? Holy crap,” you said, before throwing a hand over your mouth, remembering he was still just a patient. “Sorry, excuse the language,”

He giggled nervously. “Don’t worry about about it,”

Conversation with him from then on was easy. It flowed quite smoothly, from talking about about school to other general things.

He liked the way you listened, Quackity knew that he waffled on about certain subjects a whole lot. But you seemed to actually be interested, your face lighting up every time. You found it sweet the way he talked so passionately about things, for a stranger, you were pretty intrigued.

You enjoyed his company for the next 30 minutes, still waiting for Doctor Anderson to come back after rushing out of the door. To be fair, It was nice to have conversation during the day that wasn’t with a fifty five year old man for once.

“But we have restaurants here like Chipotle, or Taco bell!” You exclaimed, now sitting beside him on one of the blue chairs.

“They’ve never been as good as the ones I’ve had in Mexico,” he told you.

“Well then I guess-“

Again. The noisy door swung open. Both your heads simultaneously turning towards it. The doctor walked back into the room, his hair was a little ruffled and messy. He came in as if he was looking for a certain something, and then his eyes landed on you.

“[Y/N]? What are you still doing here?” He questioned, looking at his watch. “It’s past four o’clock,”

You took out your phone from your back pocket. Damn, time really flew by and you didn’t even realise.

“We were just talking about Tiger, he’s got a bad tooth,” you said

The doctor smiled at you. “Good work, [Y/N]!” He said, pride overtaking his voice. “But it’s really time for you to go home. You can pack up your things now and relax! You’re finally finished!”

“Oh-,” you said, feeling the slightest bit disappointed as you looked at Quackity. “Thank you,”

You stood up and hesitantly slipped off the spare white lab coat, folding it up and placing it in on a nearby counter.

You looked at Quackity again, his eyes were almost saying ‘sorry’ for you having to leave.

Quackity watched you leave the room. His mood dropping straight away. He knew he wasn’t going to speak to you again after this.

The doctor started talking to him again, giving him advice for Tiger and how they would deal with the problem. However, the unfortunate problem was, his attention was focused on you. You know sometimes you talk to someone once and then for the rest of the year you constantly think about that interaction? Yeah, that’s how he was feeling. He had no idea why you had suddenly invaded all his thoughts.

Too bad you’d left without so much of a goodbye.

If only he built up the courage and asked for your number.

———

Masterlist

Taglist: @inniterhq @basilly @nite-land @bunnyloo @siriushxney @notphilosopherstudentblog @tinyegg @dreamiewrites @kai-was-here @shiyanchan

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #mcyt imagine #quackity x reader #Quackity imagines #quackity imagine #quackity x you #quackity fanfiction #quackityhq x reader #quackityhq imagine #quackityhq imagines #quackityhq FANFICTION

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rjshepherd · 3 years

Note

If you haven’t already could you do headcannons for Karl and his trans boyfriend 👉👈

I know it sounds kinda boring but I need more headcannons of him and his trans boyfriend

actually the first half of all my karl hc posts were requested and written with my ftm friend in mind, so if you wanted to go back and have a look at those with that in mind, there are some extras for you!

but since you've taken the time to write me a wee ask ill do a few just for you!

i know its corny, but karl is a man's man. He likes stereotypically masculine things like building stuff, metal and wood work and hunting. He'd understand if that's not your jam, but he's super eager to include you in such activities. he wants you to feel like you're not just his boyfriend, but one of the lad, that you fit in with the male villagers.

this extends to the lycans too. since all the lycans in the village are men, he's chomping at the bit to show you off to his pack. Again, not just as his partner, but as a new friend and playmate for them, a new leader and his equal.

that being said, he's not one of those toxic masculin assholes, who worries about how he might be perceived for dating you. Karl hasn't given a fuck about what others think since 1983. He's not shy with public affection and never ever hides how much he loves you, even in front of Miranda or the other lords. if they don't like it, they can take a long walk off a short pier.

He never treats you as less of a man because of your appearance or what you may have presented as in the past. Who you present yourself as now, with him, is who he takes you for, no questions asked.

Before the outbreak in re8, he made a point of taking you around the village and factory and introduce you to everyone by your proper name and preferred pronouns, regardless of how well you might think you pass. he did this so people could see the look on his face and know he absolutely would not tolerate any deadnaming or misgendering of you, regardless of if you could hear it or not.

The message takes time to get to some of the older or more "stuck in their ways" villagers. they don't MEAN to be rude, they just have a hard time adjusting to such a new concept. Its very hard for karl to be patient with them, because if he thought they were upsetting you he'd like nothing more than to grind them into paste. But, for your sake, he tries to take a patient , educational tone with them.

Any maliciousness from anyone even in earshot of karl , however, is going to be met with the business end of his biggest hammer.

so i have a headcanon that Karl has a bit of medical experience. not a doctor , despite being based on Frankenstein, but more like an emt or combat medic. He's a little sloppy in his care at times but he would absolutely be willing to steal or obtain T for you, miranda be damned. provided you want it that is. He'll go to extreme lengths to make you comfortable in your body and get you whatever you wanted or needed to make it happen. short of maybe doing any surgery himself. not that the idea wouldn't have crossed his egotistical mind, but for everyone's sake you should politely decline.

I know some people have the idea that he's probably old fashioned when it comes to gender and gender roles. that's just a fancy way of saying he can use some outdated language. but i actually canon he's the most forward thinking of the lords. Even if he didnt know you were trans when he started dating you, he absolutely wouldn't care. its like water off a duck's back, he just rolls with it, its not going to stop him from loving you.

to go with those last two, i think he also does his own sewing. you can't look me in the eye and tell me he didn't make that coat himself. Because of that he'd be quite happy to make you a binder or some flattering clothes. i can see the pair of you rocking up to alcina's castle in Matching tailored suits .

there you go nonnie! i hope this sparks the joy

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! i read every tag you guys write!

#Karl heisenberg #karl x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #karl headcanons #my stuff #my headcanons #headcanons #my writing #asks #my asks

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layercake · 3 years

Text

Why Naoto is Heavily Trans Coded, and How The Discussion Surrounding Him Needs to Change

Hello, I’ve never written or posted anything like this before LOL so this is a bit daunting. But this subject is something that’s been bothering me for a long time, and I wanted to get it out somewhere. So let’s talk about how Naoto Shirogane is heavily trans coded, and how the fandom has a problematic culture surrounding the issue that really needs to change.

Tw // discussion of misogyny , transphobia , and mentions of harassment

Initial Shadow Confrontation

Since the discussion is most often about what’s “canon” and what’s not, let’s first take a look at what the game actually does give us about Naoto’s character. During the confrontation with Naoto’s shadow, we learn that Naoto idolized detectives as a kid, and wanted to be one himself when he was older.

However, this posed a problem for him in multiple ways. One, he was (is) still a child, and the people in his field don’t take him seriously because of it. He tries desperately to escape this fact, to try and act as mature as possible, but ultimately he can’t change how others will perceive him at his age.

This is what the shadow confrontation focuses on most heavily. But then it switches to discussing the other part of the issue-- the fact that Naoto’s ideal image of a detective is a man, and he “isn’t.”

At the end, Yukiko says “You must know already that what you yearn for isn’t to become an adult or to become a boy,” and Naoto accepts it. This is what most people point to when saying that Naoto can’t be trans, because he agrees that it wasn’t what he wished for. So, easy, right? If you take this as him telling the truth, then it looks like an open and shut case-- he isn’t trans. But Naoto’s actions don’t really fit what he says here.

The issue starts with these next lines (below) in particular. To me, Naoto’s tone in the first line is regretful, and doesn’t strike me as a sentiment someone who is cisgender would necessarily hold. Why would he want to “change into a man?” To fit his ideal image of a detective? As he says here, yes.

(Real quick before I continue, it’s not clear in the dialogue screenshot but it’s important to note that Naoto does say “yes” to Yukiko’s question about him not liking being a girl. He nods his head)

The narrative that the game tries to go with after this is that the “ideal image” Naoto wanted to live up to, including the male aspect of it, was unattainable and formed primarily because he felt that was the only way he could be a detective.

But, is this really that much of a problem? We all look up to certain types of people, people that we want to be like-- and for many, this can factor into gender identity as well. If Naoto really just wanted to be a cool, male detective, that doesn’t at all negate that being trans would be a part of that for him.

Naoto’s other words and actions, as well as the framing of this scene as a whole, make the scenario feel a lot less believable to me for multiple reasons. Naoto never initiates the conversation that him wanting to be a boy is incorrect-- Yukiko does. Naoto isn’t even the one to trigger his shadow-- Kanji does that. Naoto had a lot less agency in a lot of these decisions than the other characters did with their shadows.

Naoto’s Continued Actions

The fragility of the narrative Atlus put together for Naoto continues to grow throughout the rest of the game, due to the way he behaves after the initial shadow confrontation.

For starters, it’s implied that Naoto is not his birth name, something that i think a lot of people either miss or forget about-- and yet he continues to go by it throughout the course of the game. We never find out his deadname and he never expresses a desire to share it with anybody.

The day after the “reveal,” Naoto doesn’t change anything about his appearance, mannerisms, or how he presents himself. He honestly seems uncomfortable with the fact that everyone has found out, in a way that felt much like being outed to the whole school, as opposed to finally being seen and accepted for who you “really” are.

I understand that such a drastic shift in people’s perception of you would be overwhelming to anybody, no matter if you were cis or not. But if Atlus really wanted to hone in on the idea that Naoto was happy about this change, they could’ve at least made him…. Well, happy about it. Even if it was just a small smile, just a tiny indication of relief even despite how hard it will be to adjust, it would’ve made it at least a little more believable that this is what he really wanted.

But that’s not the case. Instead, he’s uncomfortable, he still binds, he still wears the school’s male uniform, and he still goes by Naoto. The only time any of this actually changes is if you as the protagonist push him to, which… is a whole other mess.

The fact that Naoto has even gotten to this point, though, speaks more volumes to me than anything else. Passing is not easy. Coming out is not easy. Naoto would have had to go through difficult lengths in order to get not only his school, but the country and media to see him as a man. He’s a well-known "detective prince".. someone was bound to look up his records and find out about it. That's a huge risk to take.

In addition to this, he binds. He goes by masculine pronouns and a masculine name. He very audibly changes his voice to be more masculine. I don’t know how to tell you this, but this is just…. not something cis people do? At least not comfortably.

In fact, doing all of this would have been incredibly uncomfortable for Naoto if he was cis. As someone who experiences dysphoria, looking like and being seen as a gender you are not can be really, really painful. If transitioning was something he really didn’t want, why would he put himself through all of that? Was it really to escape misogyny? Me asking this isn’t minimizing the issue at all, because I understand that it’s incredibly serious and hard for countless women. But I would generally think someone’s first reaction to facing misogyny isn’t to… completely change their identity and present as a different gender.

On top of being probably the hardest option of escaping misogyny available to him, and one of the most uncomfortable, presenting as a man doesn’t necessarily get rid of any prejudices Naoto may face. In fact, I would argue that it’s considerably more dangerous. Especially in a rural town like Inaba, where people seem to not really understand or approve of being LGBT. Naoto is smart, he would have thought of all of this. So why?

Inherent Transphobia of Naoto’s Arc

There is something to be said about how much misogyny is present in Japan’s workforce, especially in fields like Naoto’s, and the importance there is in discussing that. The base idea behind his struggles and message isn’t inherently a bad one, but the way the game went about it was problematic because it put down transgender identities in the process.

The first time I watched Naoto’s shadow confrontation, it was really distressing to me. The game continuously repeats the idea that you can’t “cross the barrier of the sexes,” that Naoto “can never really be a man,” and that “you can change your name, but you can never change who you “really” are.” I hope I don’t need to explain why this is a problem.

Naoto’s wish to be a man, regardless of what was driving it, is depicted as something temporary and childish. Something that Naoto “didn’t really want,” something that was just an excuse to run away from the misogyny he was facing. Even if it was unintentional, this message is incredibly harmful to transgender people.

It would have been a better and much more coherent message about misogyny if the writers had steered clear of trans themes entirely. In fact, I think they did so well with Sae’s character in Persona 5-- she’s in the same field of work, facing very similar struggles, but she doesn’t react in the same way as Naoto at all.

Kanji and Homophobia

It’s even worse that Naoto’s “reveal,” on top of being problematic by itself, is used as a method to bury Kanji’s exploration of his own sexuality. The problems with Kanji’s own shadow are bad enough to warrant their own long rant, but the reveal that Naoto was “really a girl” this whole time allows the story to completely wave off his gayness for good.

This isn’t something unique to this game-- the trope of “two boys fall in love, but one of them turns out to be a girl so it’s fine” has been used numerous times in other media to explore the topic half-assedly. It plays with the “exoticness” or “drama” of a gay romance, but backs off at the end in order to uphold societal norms and prevent backlash.

This doesn’t really give any kind of good commentary on gay relationships, nor does it depict them in a positive or helpful manner. It isn’t something that these games should be getting kudos for doing.

Misogyny?

I think there’s also something to be said about how poignantly bad Atlus is at really tackling the problem of misogyny. It tries, especially with characters like Ann and Sae, and in certain aspects it can succeed. But then they have scenes like the pageant and Every Beach Scene Ever, where the women are forced to wear swimsuits or revealing clothing against their will, or their bodies are talked about without their consent. There is consistently a character in each persona game who is forced to do the whole misogynistic dipshit gimmick that’s supposed to be funny-- Junpei, Yosuke, Teddie, Morgana, Ryuji-- and while this is obviously not a Persona specific problem by a longshot, it’s still indicative of how unsuccessful these games often are in delivering the message that society’s systemic misogyny is an issue.

This is something I think about a lot when people try and argue that Naoto’s story can’t be about him being trans because it’s “an important message about misogyny.” Atlus often doesn’t deliver on such stories already, and they certainly didn’t with Naoto. As soon as Naoto returns to “living as a woman” he’s subjected to the same misogyny that the other girls are. His chest is commented on, he’s forced to be in the beauty pageant, he’s made uncomfortable in the bath scenes-- really, all Atlus did after the reveal was make the problem worse for him.

On top of this, his story never actually meaningfully tackles the problem of misogyny in the detective force. It’s not a major part of his social link or the general plot of the game-- honestly, it’s barely even touched on at all after the initial confrontation. Thus, the idea that “Naoto can’t be trans because it erases a story about misogyny” is just plain untrue. There never was a coherent one in the first place.

Problems Within the Fandom

Despite all of this, there is such an intense backlash from the majority of the fandom if anybody dares to bring up these issues with Naoto’s story. Naoto being trans is generally seen as something ridiculous and stupid, or something to insult and mock people for.

I understand that there's always going to be people who say provocative stuff like this, no matter what anyone does, and that it’s not something exclusive to this particular fandom or character. But the problem is that this rhetoric isn't just from them anymore--the consensus among so much of the fandom seems to be either that Naoto absolutely cannot be trans, or that speaking about it at all is "annoying discourse" and taboo. Even from fans that are LGBT or allies themselves.

This in and of itself is such a telling thing to me. if you find yourself getting angry about the subject, really ask yourself why. Is it such a problem for people to reclaim a transphobic story? Is it such a problem for a character to be trans in the first place? There is room for discussion and nuance regarding this situation, but we have to make it for ourselves. We can accept that Atlus’s base game will never actually give us a coherent story about either misogyny nor being transgender with Naoto’s story. But petty arguments and insults thrown at people who bring up this topic isn’t any of that-- it’s just poorly masked transphobia.

So at the end of the day, no, Naoto being is trans is not “canon.” Of course Naoto would not actually be allowed to be trans, he is a main character in a game series where the only explicitly LGBT characters have been consistently buried, stereotyped, or demonized with only a few rare exceptions.

Yes, you’re allowed to headcanon whatever you want about him. I can’t stop you from wanting a story about misogyny, or from seeing Naoto’s gender as something more fluid than I do. But you can’t ignore the fact that his story, as written in canon, is laden with transphobia despite its intentions. It’s not a ridiculous or harmful thing for trans people to want to reclaim that.

There are still a lot more issues with how Naoto is treated in the game-- especially in his romance route-- but that’s a whole other can of worms I’m not ready to unpack today lol

Hopefully all of this made sense though, and feel free to bring up anything else I may have missed or point out any issues you might have with it :-) Thanks for reading!

#persona 4 #naoto shirogane #p4 #persona #naoto #trans naoto #meta #long post #discourse #misogyny #transphobia #god?? god!! help me #this is literally such a mess lol But #sorry for lack of pictures in the second half also

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datastate · 2 years

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Hey I hope this question isn’t annoying or anything but I was wondering if you had any tips on feeling comfortable with neopronouns ? I’d really love to start using it/its but I’m a little nervous since I’m unsure how people would feel about them. Thank you :>

sorry for taking a while to get to this!! i got caught up with other sorts of stuff. first off, i will say this isn't an annoying question! i'm just not exactly sure how to approach it

i'll say, in my case, first trying things like 'neopronouns' (or even saying i'm trans in the first place) was helped with ... first using them actively on the internet until i grew into it. here, people can't see your face or voice or whatever else to first judge you off of - what you say you are, is what you are. whether that changes intermittently doesn't often matter and helps with testing the waters to see what you yourself are/n't comfortable with. most people are understanding of this and are decent enough to gender you correctly, and the assholes who aren't you shouldn't mind (which is hard! especially when you're first getting used to a term; so long as the term/s make you happy and it isn't lgbtphobic in its creation/implications, it's none of their business. this is for you, first and foremost)

i would hope your friends are decent enough to heed your preferences, even if they aren't trans themselves. especially with it/its, there are people who raise objections like 'why are you fine being objectified' or whatever else, but ? really it's all within context of how people refer to you when it comes to this. there are trans people uncomfortable with it/its for themselves with its dehumanizing connotations, and others who have used it and gotten so used to it being used normally and accepted that way, that it's their own way of reclaiming this sort of thing. it isn't their choice to decide how you go about presenting yourself / your identity,

if they do have other issues with referring to you with neos, you could send them pages such as pronouny that gives out examples of how your pronouns will be used. i am not someone that really bends easily to other's pressure unless given viable reason, so i'm... not sure if i can give much advice when it comes to telling people or friends to refer to you with these other than 'well, this is who i am right now. respect this or [else]'

TL;DR : the internet is a nice starting point to test the waters for how you feel about other people interpreting and referring to you as [] and most decent people will understand and mind if your identity / preference changes or shifts over time. writing characters with chosen neos can also help with normalizing it internally. once you've grown comfortable here, and if you are in a safe environment to tell others of this, then you could begin telling friends to help you use it aloud (where, even then, you could first try out hearing it through vcs or referring to yourself aloud)

i think something that could help, though, aside from all of this. would be reaching out to and befriending other trans people (whether or not they themselves use neos). sometimes it helps being more at ease with your identity when you know you're not alone in this. i know something i did a lot when i was first coming to terms with being trans was make ocs / used characters i loved and wrote them using the neopronouns i liked but was hesitant to use for myself.

if you do want to use them irl, you could practice referring to yourself / having trusted friends refer to you by neos aloud (or in vcs) - and esp with pronouns such as xe/xem, it helps figure out what is actually feasible to speak or use aloud, which may be a bit different than through text! i'd be a little more careful once you actually present yourself with [chosen pronouns], because people will take it with more weight and it'll take longer to adjust, but practicing beforehand online helps with refining yourself so it's not an issue irl where you change name/pronouns every day or something ; it may change over time, and there's no shame in that, it's natural, but try to dwell more on it before applying it aloud so it's taken seriously and there's more effort given in remembering what to use

there's also some comfort in looking into lgbtq history and past trans or gnc people who've used neos. you could also choose some they'd used then (it's how i found se/hir)

i hope this helped a little bit, at least. just understand that there isn't anything that needs to be 'permanent', but don't shy away from it just because other people don't make the effort to understand. it's for you and so long as you find comfort in it, people with decency + those who care for you will respect that.

#i would say go for it! even if you don't stick with it or make a big deal of it... it's fine #the question is a little broad and i admittedly don't remember much of when i firet realized i was trans so it's. hm #other people may have a more comprehensive list! feel free to ask other neo users . it is late for me and i sort of. rambled on #if you need something else though or clarification somewhere i'd be happy to condense an answer to that #ask #anonymous #long post

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mallowstep · 3 years

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Genetics ask! I know that male torties/torbies are very rare and caused by a genetic mutation, but with those who do exist, are there any prerequisites with their parents? I’m assuming they’d have to carry the red gene since tortoiseshell is one red, one not-red, but I barely know anything. And based on this, is it better to just headcanon cats like Redtail as biologically female?

alright! hello, anon.

since i had to do more research than usual for this one, reminder that:

i am not an expert. i can and will be wrong. you can find my self-corrections under #corrections, but those are only things i or others have noticed, and that i've had the time to write a correction to and explain.

disclaimers out of the way, let's talk about tortie toms. (and torbie toms, and calico toms, it's all the same deal.)

if you know how ginger works, you can skip the next few paragraphs.

orange (ginger, red, etc.) is sex-linked in cats. what this means is that the gene that causes orange cats is on the x chromosome. it is also codominant, which means that having an orange x chromosome (Xo) and a non-orange x chromosome (X) is not black or orange, but both.

basically:

X or XX: black

Xo or XoXo: orange

XXo: tortoiseshell

yeah?

now, for the rest of this post, i'm going to be writing O and o instead of Xo and X because it's one less character and i don't run the risk of putting three x chromosomes together.

okay. so because torties need two x chromosomes, they're typically female. the way tortie itself works is basically, cells activate one of the genes (O or o) at random, creating patches. so you need two copies.

wikipedia says about a third of male torties have klinefelter's, which is the XXY karyotype. while this does have physical changes associated with it, the only way to confirm (humans have) klinefelter's is to test it genetically.

luckily, cats are very helpful about demonstrating it. what with them being tortie and all.

(we're also lumping in the variations of klinefelter's here. you can get XXYY, etc., and they all fit into the same broad idea.)

anyway, the extra x chromosome can come from either the mother or the father. this makes tortie toms...not quite easier, since the prereqs are the same, but y'know. if mom is Oo, dad doesn't matter. if mom is OO, dad has to be o, and if mom is oo, dad has to be O. same rules as usual.

XXY toms are going to be...not sterile, but pretty infertile. using human stats, about 50% can produce sperm, although the likelihood of them having kits is still low. humans with klinefelter's are also taller than average, so keep that in mind.

again, and this might be a correction on my part, i can't remember, but tortie toms aren't strictly going to be visibly different than other toms.

okay, so most people stop at klinefelter's, but there are two other ways to get tortie toms: mosiacism and chimerism. these are often confused/combined, but because i strive for generally being accurate, i'll go over them both.

mosaic cats carry multiple genetic lines, because of a mutation. this can either be somatic (happens in the body, is not hereditary), or germline (happens in reproductive cells of parents, is hereditary).

this is not always a gain of a line, you can lose a chromosome as well. the difference between somatic and germline and how it affects torties goes over my head, so i'm not going to speak to it, other than i'm pretty sure we're talking about somatic mosaicism. i think. again, not a biologist or geneticist, just a hobbyist with an internet connection.

right, so what happens is basically, some cells lose their extra x chromosome, giving you a cat with karyotype XXY/XY. these cats are more likely to be fertile and generally have less effects of klinefelter's. i'm not entirely sure how this affects tortie presentation, if at all, but it does happen.

i suppose you could also have some kind of mutation that gives you an extra x spontaneously, but that would be unlikely to cause torties, because it would also have to mutate into the other O allele.

again, i really want to stress that while i'm not bullshitting, i'm also not speaking definitively here.

last up is chimerism, where two embryos fuse in the womb, creating mixed genes.

i'm using a picture of a dog, here, because this is what goes through my head when i think of chimeras. you'll have to take my word for it, but while this would be a normal tortie cat, it can't really happen in dogs without some kind of mutation. and chimerism, given the extent of the patching, is pretty likely.

right! chimera torties are going to be, afaik, normal levels of fertile, although it's likely that they can pass on either black or red, not both.

(while i'm here, before we move on, there are a lot of types of chimeras. this type is called tetragametic chimerism, and it's rare in humans but more common in other animals. it's hard to know how common it is, because the differences are often very subtle, and hard to test. it's also not mutually exclusive with mosaics or klinefelter's, just to really muddy the waters.)

i don't have statistics for how common mosaics and chimeras are, and there's always, "a different type of mutation that doesn't fall into this category"

for mosaics and chimeras, the rules for inheritance seem to be the same as for klinefelter's. there's the added note that, because there can be multiple sires within one litter, a ginger queen could have kits with a ginger tom, and get a tortie son, as long as she also...ahem...with a black(/brown, etc.) tom. (or vice versa, with all brown and a ginger.)

okay! so that's basically how it happens.

as for the second part of this question, well. "is it better?" is a matter of opinion. i don't think anyone is wrong for having tortie toms. i don't care. (a) it is possible, and (b) we're all just having fun.

i, personally, do not think redtail is karyotype XX, because i like him being sandstorm's father with brindleface. idk. i like brindleface. yes, i know this raises huge genetic problems, and it's not very canon. i don't really care. i read that redtail fic where he thinks about sand&brindle as he's dying and it hasn't left me.

that said, i'm still a sucker for trans redtail. love it. idk, this is kind of hard to explain. like? it's not my headcanon, but i still appreciate it.

anyway! to the point: if you care about statistics and likelihoods and how many tortie toms you've had in the clan, yes, you're probably better off saving your chromosome anomalies for when they need to have kits, and using XX karyotype for the rest.

(under the cut: matthew rambles about trans cats and gender identity for a while)

i'm pretty sure cats don't have the western concept of gender. i don't think they have a human concept of gender, either, but at some point i need to be able to pin down something, and i think a third/fourth gender is closer to what they have.

i've been thinking about this a lot lately, because i decided i wasn't satisfied with my old approach to trans cats. i can do better than that. i decided cats don't have gendered pronouns, so why should the solution be, "trans cats don't really get to do anything about it"

no. i am dissatisfied with that.

at the same time, for specific reasons: i also don't think cats are trans in the western sense of the word.

because if for nothing else, remember that cat sexual dimorphism has a bigger effect on their life than in humans.

like, queens are going to be uncomfortable around male cats they don't hella trust and their kits. that doesn't go away if said male cat isn't a tom. y'know?

i'm in a constant state of tweaks with this, because i basically: form opinion, test opinion, refine opinion. my initial opinion was too harsh. and!

part of what's changed is i decided i wanted fernsong to be able to raise his kits in the nursery instead of ivypool. so i had to adjust how i think the nursery and queens work, slightly, to permit for that. now, i can turn back to gender and think about it some more.

i'm not going to coin any new terms, because i'm not in that kind of mood, but i think there is some idea of a female cat who is not a she-cat. i don't think the cats would call them a tom, but i'm not sure what they would say or how they would describe it.

i think they would just, on some level, get it.

actually okay you know what! i do need some lingo here. queens = cats who are raising kits in the nursery. she-cats = XX karyotype, considers self female (cis, if you will). toms = XY karyotype, considers self male (cis, again). and uh...we'll go with...

god i hate. i don't want anything i say in this ramble to be considered "words i am going to now use consistently" because i literally just need some way to describe this for my own sanity. with that in mind, let us use molly for XY karyotype, but not a tom, and...how about gib for XX karyotype, not a she-cat.

again, i don't want that to be considered permanent, i'm just fishing at words people use to describe cats so i can have something to work with.

right so, i don't think cats think gib and tom are equivalent, but i also don't think they (as a society) care about that.

like, okay, let's say redtail is XX, but not a she-cat. there's nothing to really be done (heck, if he wants to be a queen, that's still fine), cats don't have gendered pronouns or names, but at the same time, there's an intuitive understanding of what that means.

this kind of ties into the matriarchy, kind of? like, hm, queens are an important part of the matriarchy, but at the same time, she-cats inherit family lines. not that cats inherit much, but still.

i'm getting very abstract here. take, uh, like let's say a hypothetical trans mothwing. i think a lot of people have that headcanon?

and i think, like, mothwing would not be considered a tom. if cats had a concept of sexuality, leafpool would not be straight, because she likes mothwing, and mothwing is not a tom.

but! i would still think willowshine probably is the first line for nursery visits, at least when the kits are very young.

and i don't think anyone there would be unhappy with that deal.

right. i just kept rambling for a while, because i've been thinking about this and obviously it's semi-tied to the question.

tl/dr: cats don't care about gender, because they are cats meowing at each other in the woods. if a cat says they're not agab, everyone is just cool with that.

#ask #anon #essay #long #ask to tag #jic #mine #txt #genetics #redtail #warriors genetics #trans cats

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digitalcomfortspot · 4 years

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Self indulgent headcanons about a trans masc s/i + f/o because thats what i ammmm and i want other transmasc self shippers to feel good about themselves and their f/os!

- Your f/o helping you out when you feel dysphoric, doing what helps you take your mind off of it, getting you your favorite hoodie to hide your chest, or just holding you if it gets to be too much some days

- You f/o going with you to help you pick out a new wardrobe/alter some of the clothes you wanna keep but don't fit right due to feminine cuts. No matter how you present, they want to help you feel good about how you look!

- Your f/o defending your pronouns and new name every time someone decides to try and invalidate you. They switched over IMMEDIATELY and whenever someone tries to make you feel bad about who you are, they defend you and correct others on your pronouns if you're too scared to

- Your f/o being there every step of your transition, if you go through one! Whether it's social, medicinal or surgical, they're there with you the whole time. Taking care of you after surgery, helping you take your T doses if you can't administer them yourself, and even helping coach you with how to lower your voice before you go on testosterone

- Your f/o calling you handsome, adorable, king, prince, etc. Any nickname they had for you before you came out changes if you ask them to change it, and they adjust to whatever you ask them to with ease. If they slip up, they apologize and correct themselves until it's no longer an issue.

- Your f/o either waits outside public bathrooms to ensure your safety or, if they can, they go with you. In public if you're nervous about being mistreated or followed, they help watch with you for anyone who seems antagonistic, and they help escort you away from the area AS SOON as trouble arises, either from a transphobe or a cop. They always make sure you're safe. Always.

- Your f/o loves you, transness and all. You are a handsome boy in their eyes, and they love you for who you are and hope to help you be loud and proud of your gender, and they are so proud of where you've come so far, whether you're pre-everything, pre-t, pre-op, post-everyrhing, no-t, no-op, gendernonconforming... Whoever you are, they love you so much.

#trans masc #f/o #f/o imagines #imagine your f/o #f/o tag #f/o stuff #romantic f/o

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strawberryybird · 3 years

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ok ok half a leonie pinelli nonbinary gender fic. lets go lets go lets post vulnerable gender thoughts on the internet

oh god like i would love love love to write a fic about Leonie’s relationship to gender and how one of the things keeping them in the closet is their (stupid, in post-war hindsight) rivalry with Byleth, and how it would look so.. juvenile if they said sod the gender binary, just like byleth had quietly done all their life. Like, Leonie just heaps responsibility and inheritance onto their own shoulders, wanting to make their village proud, wanting to surpass Jeralt the Bladebreaker, wanting the equal-footing relationship with byleth that neither of them knew how to forge. And now, in the settling dust of the world they fought for, they have no idea how to live a life without the weight of other people’s expectations. When the rest of the deers are going on about freedom and new world order, Leonie’s stood there, wedged between Ignatz and Hilda, wondering if it’s worth saving the things they hold most dear - Jeralt, Byleth, the memory of her village. What of their past self is worth carrying forward? What part of themself does Leonie even want to keep in this brave new world? The war had been over for 3 whole months. It would be terribly selfish to think of the war as a spark of self-reflection, but Leonie had never pretended to be altruistic like that.

so here’s a little of that: warning for posthumous outing of gender questioning.

Leonie snags Ignatz after the meeting broke up, and they potter on up to the third floor balcony to watch the sun set.

She shares a bottle of good wine with himon the balcony, sun already half-sunk over the horizon. They talk about everything that isn’t the war, and then, once they get the second, nicer, wine open, they talk about the war. Because it had been three whole months, and yet it had only been three months. Far too much time to be breaking into cold sweats in the middle of the night and not enough time to have fully scrubbed Nemesis’ blood out from under her fingernails. Too short a time to be so self-centred in discussing the war, there would be time for self-indulgence later, and long enough that the construction of new world was already well under way. Stuck in this half-risen morning, cranking the wheel to reopen the stage curtain and start the second act.

They buried Dorothea’s body in a city that never appreciated her, and says as much out loud. Ignatz poured them both another glass of wine and clinked the glasses together.

“I thought we had put the toasts to rest as well?” Leonie leaned back on the stone to catch his eye.

He shrugged, his smile still a little soft after the war. “I think it’s how she’d like to be remembered, really. I’ve nearly finished her painting.”

Leonie drew a knee up to rest her wine on. The sunlight was dimming like a campfire without the familiar crackling in her ears, only the whip of the wind. “Ingrid, as well, then. She liked all that honour and tradition. A toast in her name seems like a way to remember her.”

“She wanted to be a knight, didn’t she?” Ignatz adjusted his glasses. “I wondered if she ever did change her pronouns.”

“What?”

“We used to talk about gender presentation, from time to time. Mostly in the greenhouse, it was one of the few times our lives crossed over.” He shifted and crossed his legs, the stone was getting pretty cold underneath them. “It wasn’t much, I don’t think, but I wanted her to have someone in her corner if she ever did want to..” He took another sip of wine. “- to present herself in a way that she wanted, or preferred, at least. We were lucky to have the Professor in our corners.”

Leonie washed down the sudden brick of envy in her throat with alcohol.

“Do you mean Ingrid was...” She tailed off, searching for something that wouldn’t sound like a desperate confessional. “Like you?” She tilted her head at him, in a bit of a clumsy question.

“It’s not polite of me to say this since she’s dead, but now there’s no one else alive to know this about her. She wasn’t sure, really. We spoke about a lot of things, but she never did make any announcements. I was too shy to suggest I use different pronouns for her, and looking back now I don’t think she would have ever asked me to. But we spoke a lot about it, especially right before..”

“Before the war.” Leonie filled in the gap.

Ignatz drank more wine.

The sun lingered in the far corner of the balcony, a brilliant orange puddle on the stone.

Leonie poured them both another glass.

“This afternoon.” She began. “With everyone talking about being better people. I was thinking - ”

Ignatz’s smile grew sharp again, and she punched his shoulder.

“I’m not sure I want to be who I was before the war. She wasn’t very nice, was young Leonie. Don’t look at me like that,” Leonie caught the glint behind his glasses, “I’m glad I was her, she got me through a war. But if Lorenz and Marianne are being better versions of who they are..” Leonie’s throat caught on itself again.

“I liked her.” Ignatz said, without looking at her. “She taught me a lot, and even if she wasn’t nice, she was kind to me.”

Leonie didn’t know what to do with that.

“Why did you tell me about Ingrid?” She asked instead.

The evening wind whistled through the carved stone rim of the balcony, not quite chilling after the scorching hot day. Ignatz shifted again, knees up to his chest.

“I didn’t say it to burden you further.” He said at last. “You already have Captain Jeralt, and Dorothea, and Ashe, and your village.” His hand nudged against hers on the floor. “You understood them more than the rest of us would. I know Hilda and Dorothea were friends, before, but you had different friendships with her. I wanted to give you Ingrid. Like you have your necklace, maybe. This world seems very new, now the war is over, but nothing really is. All those landscapes I used to paint had been seen before I drew them, and they’ll exist after me, too. I wanted to tell you about Ingrid so you could have that history, if you wanted. So you had something to inherit, or look back on. Like footsteps.

“I miss our school days, and who we thought we all were.” Ingnatz curled his knuckles in Leonie’s own. “But I’m glad we’re here now. Maybe Claude and the wine has gone my head, a little, but I think I believe him when he said we can be who we are in earnest, now.”

The catch in Ignatz’ voice was far more convincing to them than any of Claude’s charismatic speeches. Leonie grabbed his hand properly, both of them calloused and worn in the same way. It would be nice, to be themself, but Leonie hadn’t been nice before the war, and wasn’t sure if they even knew how to be. The world was being called brave and new, in all the grandstanding speeches made around the war council tables, and Leonie knew how to do that. The war had taught them how to be brave, if nothing else, and now Ignatz had said there was nothing truly new about them. It was something to be only new in yourself. They didn’t need to be as brave. The sun long set below the hillside, and Leonie held on tight.

#god this is dramatic. gotta love a bit of self indulgence.#ok i accidentally wrote a fic.#tw for poor trans etiquette #leonie and ignatz have gender feelings on a balcony with wine #i have a lot of feelings about leonie and gender. most of which i do not want to put on display for tumblr dotte comme #so uh have this? i'm sorry if its in very poor taste.#it certainly wasnt intended to be #okokokokok im going to post this intensely personal bit of unedited tumblr text post fic. here we go.#bird does fics. idk what my tag is.

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ma-lark-ey · 4 years

Text

Nick Close had never been a very fantastic child. That much was very obvious. Granted, most of the dumb and illegal shit they did was for their fathers attention (however rarely that option actually worked), but it was still dumb and illegal shit.

Tonight was not one of those dumb and illegal nights, however; tonight was still a night Glenn Close could never find out about. Nick prayed he'd never find out about.

Nick had always been closed off from their father. How couldn't they be? When they were little, it was always Nick and Momma at home, while Daddy was on tour or doing shows. Glenn only started being home once in awhile when Mom died. And yes, Nick calls him Glenn. Glenn was never... He was never 'Dad.'

And this, this was certainly one of the things Nick kept tightly closed off from their father. That thing being one of the biggest secrets Nick may ever keep; their gender.

Nick didn't *mind* to be a 'he,' don't get them wrong. Some days, they really enjoyed being a 'he.' But today? Today... Nick was a she. And she couldn't deny that. Some days she felt so fucking confident in her body, like she could throw on a baggy t-shirt and slightly too-big pants with a beanie and fight god. Others, her body felt like someone else's and she wanted to rip her skin off and start over. Dress like those beautiful alternative women she saw on TikTok. With the demonias, fishnets, skirts, ripped up shirts, messy hair. God, some days she didn't know if she wanted to be them, or be with them.

Tonight, she definitely wanted to be them.

She had done up her makeup in the most extravagant way she knew how, eyeliner to the gods. Fishnets under a faux-leather, checkered print pencil skirt she found thrifting with Grant a few days ago. She had one a torn up old t-shirt she'd cut into a croptop and not to mention her Docs. She felt like she could fight god with her chain belts and dramatic jewelry.

Nick knows Glenn would never care if he knew his 'son' sometimes felt more like his daughter, but she wasn't ready to give him that kind of trust. Grant? Grant got that kind of trust. Henry got that kind of trust. The twins got that kind of trust. But not Glenn. Glenn hasn't proved he'd deserved that yet.

And maybe Nick didn't want to take the time to explain why Grant sometimes called her Nickie beyond "Its just a nickname, Glenn."

And she was okay with that. She knew that she wasn't ready. Maybe she'd never be 'ready,' and Glenn wasnt in her life enough for it to matter.

...

Why'd the front door just open? Why is Nick hearing a car lock? Why is the front door opening? Glenn's not supposed to be home from tour until tomorrow. And here Nick is, in the living room. Looking like a pretty well passing woman. She had learned plenty of tricks over her last two years of presenting feminine some days. The lanky, stickman build the had was the one thing Glenn had given to her that she was thankful for.

But the genetics of Glenn Close that were gifted to his child were not the problem at hand. The problem at hand is that *Glenn's home.*

Glenn's home. Glenn's home, and Nick is not in her Glenn Mode. She's vulnerable. Vulnerable to a lot of questions she doesn't want to answer tonight. Doesn't want to have to explain where all this women's clothing came from, nor why she's dressed as one. It can't pass as drag, but she's obviously not in drag makeup. Fuck. Fuck it all. Fuck her life and her shitty decision making skills. Fuck Glenn for never communicating his plans. And fuck the stunned way he's staring at her now.

The awkwardness of the room was palpable at this point. Nick felt like a deer in headlights. Nick felt like melting into the floor and disappearing from the world. Nick felt like her whole world was about to collapse in on itself. What if Glenn hated her, what if he didn't want her to act like this or be this person, what if-

"Well, don't you look nice. Got a date or something, kid?"

Thats... That's not what Glenn was supposed to say. That's not what he's supposed to say! He's supposed to be upset or revolted or-

"I- I uh..." No. No don't cry. Fuck. Why are you crying, Nicholas? Nicole? Fuck what even if your name right now?

Glenn's here. It should be Nicholas. That's your name when you're a boy. But its a girl day. You want to be Nicole today. Glenn is here, and you're Nicole right now. And Glenn is here. And you're Nicole. And Glenn-

She heard a bag drop on the ground and footsteps come toward her. She stepped back and tried hide behind her arms. No words. She can't speak.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

She remembers the time she went to school in feminine clothes and a couple of guys almost jumped her, before Lark pulled a knife on them and got them both suspended.

Hands grab onto her shoulders, a gentle hold. She can feel the calluses on Glenn's fingers from his guitar. When was the last time he held her?

Her knees feel like jello. She remembers when she started posting on her second TikTok, open about her gender and pronouns because she didn't have to keep up a cisgender face when her dad didn't have the account. And how transphobes sent her deaththreats until she blocked all those words from her comments and the DMs got disabled.

She's a few inches taller than Glenn in her platform Docs. Which she realizes when he pulls her into a gentle hug. She feels makeup running on her face. And she's crying. Why is she crying?

She remembers being ten years old standing at moms grave, standing next to Glenn. Just after the burial. It was the first time she'd seen him cry.

Her chin's on his shoulder now, his arms around her upper torso and holding her against him. She realizes she's shaking. That he's just holding her. He's holding her. Daddy's home.. He's giving her a hug...

She remembers the last time Glenn had hugged her. At Mom's funeral. She was sobbing at her grave, and so was Dad. He pulled her into him and held her so tight. So tight she thought he'd crush her. But he just held, like she was the entire world. Like if he let go he'd loose her to. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hid her face in the mix of long hair and his suit jacket. He felt like her whole world in that moment, too.

Nickie brings herself back to what's happening. Glenn's holding her, her arms are awkward resting on his back, He's clutching her by the shoulders. She remembers these hugs. The hugs that he used to give her every time he left and came home. The ones he gives where every second of it is embued with love. It felt like that now.

She could tell he loved her. But those words felt like lies in her head.

Lies. Lies. Lies. So many lies. So so many lies.

"I'll be home by nine, Nick." It was a lie, Glenn didn't come home for three more days. "I promise I'll be home on your birthday." He wasn't. "I'll be there." He wasn't. "I'll make it, promise." He didn't. Everytime. Everytime, where Glenn shouldve been, it was Mom. And when Mom died, it was Henry. Or Ron. Or Darryl.

But he's here. Right now. And he's holding her. It doesn't make it okay, it doesn't excuse it. But he's holding her. Her knees go weak, and she crumbles. He crumbles with her.

She sobs, he doesn't force her to say anything. She doesn't return his hug, he doesn't expect her to.

"You're supposed to be mad." Nick mumbled after she doesnt remember how long. Glenn gives a light chuckle and adjusts his grip on her.

"And why would I be?" He asked, not protesting as Nick shoved him off and shuffled back a few inches. It felt weird to be so close to him after sixteens years of so much distance.

"Why wouldn't you be?" She spat, crossing her arms and staring at the ground. "Nick's fucked up again. That's my whole brand! Being a total and absolute fuck up! The disappointment! The druggy, the- the... The mistake." She felt more hot tears behind her eyes. She could feel Glenn staring at her in concern.

"Nick, you are not a fuck up. Or a mistake. Or whatever else. Nick, you're my baby, and I-"

"Then why did you leave? If you're gonna pull that bullshit, and say you love me no matter what, and that I'm your little girl, and that- that you wanted me from the very beginning and wouldn't give me up, why did you leave? Why dont you care now? When you come home, and woopsie! Your son's dressed up like some goth chicken. Why are you acting like everythings fine!? Everything is NOT fine, Glenn!" She hit the floor with her hands and growled in frustration. It wasn't fine.

Glenn stared down and took a deep breath. Then he sighed. "Yeah, I can't blame you on that one, kiddo. Alright, full disclosure, Nick. I already- I knew. I knew about the pronouns, and the name. I knew. Henry told me."

"H- Henry... Did what?"

"He told me. Soon as you told him. He called me that night, let me know what you had said. We have a rule in our group, we've had the rules since Grant came out. If one of the kids comes out as anything, you tell the other dads. Especially if its a name and pronouns thing. Cause, we agreed that since well, we were all kind of one bug cluster fuck of parents to each others kids, it was better if everyone knew who was what. So we didn't fuck it up."

"So you have a rule to out kids to their parents? That's-"

"No! Not any kids. Its just you, Terry, Grant, and the twins. Just you five. Because, here's the thing, Nick- Nickie? Whatever. Us dads? We arent- we're new to the whole queer scene. Its not as normal for us to just fliparoo what pronouns and names we call people as it is for you guys. So, we would practice to each other. When you told Henry you liked being called Nickie, he came to us and essentially said, 'I'm gonna say Nickie to you guys as often as i fucking can do I don't end up deadnaming.' "

Glenn took Nick's hand into his and held it tight. Nick still felt like punching Henry in the fucking face for outting her to Glenn.

"You know that I love you, Nick." Her body went rigid at that. And she looked uo at him, glaring as hard as should mister with how fucking teary eyed she was.

"Do I? Do I know that you love me, Glenn?" And his face fell. It was like she just sucked his soul out of him. Good. That should be one hell of a wake up call.

"Nick, of course I love you. What would ever make you think I didn't love you?" Nick but her lip, thinking over her words before she said them. She thought on a lot of things.

"You left. My mom died, and you left. My *mother* was dead and you went back to touring in a matter of weeks. My mother was dead, and I was ten years old. And I was home, by myself, for weeks. Glenn, I was alone for months. Sure, there the nanny. But that wasn't Mom or Dad. I needed my parents. I needed my dad. I needed my dad to give me a hug, promise me it'd be okay. That we were okay. And he fucking left. He walked out that door, didn't come back for months, only called every three weeks. Missed birthdays, holidays, soccer games, and whatever the fuck else. Why on gods green earth would I think that you loved me when you fucking abandoned me, Glenn? Why? Would you think I loved you if I fucked off to god knows where after being home for just a couple days? Huh? If when I found out you'd been up in drug city with your mates and getting caught by cops doing a bunch of stupid shit, all you got was a slap on the wrist and a phonecall that last three minutes?"

Glenn stared at the ground for a long time. He didn't speak. And he pulled her back into a hug, practically dragged her across that distance to hold her again. Hold her like the whole world depended on Glenn never letting go again. Like if he let go everything would come crashing down, like Nick was the entire fucking world and he just wanted to protect her. He held her like he had when Mom died.

"God, Morgan... He's just like you." He mumbled, clutching Nick so tight she couldn't breath. She didn't care he used the wrong pronouns, she didn't care he'd barely even addressed the elephant in the room, she didn't care her heel was digging painfully into the back of her other leg. Her dad was here. He was holding her. He was making sure she knew he loved her. Dad finally came home.

Glenn let out a painful sob into Nick's shoulder, he said something. Nick thinks it was an apology, but between the sniffles and the hiccups and layers of clothing, its impossible to tell. Glenn pulled her up into his lap, held her like he would when she was five or six. Her head on his shoulder, his arms around her middle as he sat horizontal across his lap. Her legs were too long to curl up like they used to, so they sat awkwardly half-stretched across the floor. It was nostalgic in a way. It felt Glenn was just realizing how many years he'd wasted. How much time with his child he had lost.

"I'm sorry, Nick. Im- I didn't realize. I'm so fucking sorry, Nick." He was still crying. Crying more than Nick had ever seen him cry. She could hear the self-hatred and the regret in his voice. She reached an arm around his neck and pulled him that much closer.

"Just don't leave again... Please, Dad." Nick doesn't remember that last time she had called him 'Dad.' But, it felt right in that moment. It hasn't felt right in a long long time.

#this is a whole mess of angsty Close boys #genderfluid Nick is the only kind I will accept in my writing anymore #dndads #dungeons and daddies #Glenn is a shit dad but I will accept a redemption arc for him

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